Where: Skykomish River
When: Sunday
Conditions: Overcast, rainy
Flies used: MOAL leech, marabou spey
Species sought: Steelhead
Species caught: A few beat up, nasty pinks. :(

"Let's go anyway."

That was the thought. The four of us had been geared up for spey all week and, river blown out or not, we were gonna get us some SPEY. :)

Practicing the anchor stroke...

Fall's colors painted the river and the weather seemed as if it would stabilize.

The only good part about autumn...

But looks can be deceiving...

Having gotten our fill of practice and our dose of rain, it was time for a late lunch.

"All right, let's go eat Mexican food!"

For some reason, chips & salsa and a good fajita can save any fishing day. ;)

The combination of friends, dreary weather and, of course, the tortillas drove my mind elsewhere. The past summer's memories played in short clips, interspersed between the running spey commentary.

And I realized that I hadn't finished my Baja tale...

--------------------------------------------

"Lo mas importante es un pez gallo para el."

"Si."

"This is it dude, we're putting the icing on this cake."

Steve smiled.

Yesterday, he caught a marlin. A dream come true.

Today, we would complete his goal.

Pez Gallo.

"That's the one thing I want out of this trip."

I remember him saying that on the first day.

The panga sped toward the most likely spot.

They have to be here!

Unfortunately, Antonio's honey hole didn't produce.

Dang.

After about an hour, we gave up. Our panguero thought dorado might be more cooperative, so we headed out to a few buoys.

I was lucky enough to grab a dorado right off the bat, but just as quickly as it came, our luck died off.

"No mas."

I agreed.

"Podemos pescar para gallos por los demas del dia?"

"Bueno."

Antonio understood our determination--today, it was all about the rooster.

"We didn't come all this way to be disappointed," I said to my boatmate.

Before long, we were in a beautiful lagoon, out of the wind, with interested fish all around.

We let the chum fly.

They came from every direction, gobbling our silver offerings.

"Get 'em, dude!"

I hooked one follower, but had to strip FAST to do so.

Steve stripped like a madman, too.

A miss.

A flash of interest.

A refusal.

More chum.

"Over there!"

A pair of hogs cruised by to crash our little party. We fished them HARD but they weren't playing along. Later, we learned that they were yellowtail, not gallos.

Sweat trickled into my eyes. I blinked, only to have more flood in.

"Where did they go?" I asked myself. "It can't end like this. We were so clo--"

"Yeah, buddy!"

Pez gallo.

It's like they say in "Running Down the Man." "You have to BELIEVE." :)

And all was well.

It was in that moment that I knew I'd be back. I had done everything I had intended to, and more.

In four days, I had caught bonita, skipjack, pargo, snapper, yellowtail, dorado and the feisty roosterfish. Best of all, I shared those catches with friends.

That same time the next day, I also knew I'd be stateside and, in the grand scheme of things, the past five days would be just a collection of photos and some words on the internet.

But in the minor scheme of things, I know that--

Steve's eyes will always twinkle when he hears "pez gallo."

Anil will always smile when he remembers that marlin.

And I'll always shake my head in disbelief thinking about the strength of a skipjack.

And that's lo mas importante. :)