"Come down next Tuesday, that's when George will be in."

"Next Tuesday" happened to be the day that "George" would be previewing some of Simms' and Sage's 2009 releases.

Ever the gear junkie, I raced down to the shop during my lunch hour to find the back table stacked with all sorts of goodies from fly fishing's favorite "S" companies.

Here's a glimpse of things to come:

A completely new lineup of Sage reels. These things actually blew me away. I used to think that the old Sage reels were cool, but these guys raise the bar even higher. From small game to big and from entry level to high end, Sage's 2009 reel offerings should be hot.

Check this out, cigar fans. You may remember another company doing this a few years back and Sage has revived the idea--rod tube humidors. Available as singles or a set of four for $200, I gave these a thorough inspection and have to admit I was impressed. Expect to see me on the water with one of these next year!

Think you've got the best boots out there? Think again, the new G4 Guide boots take the solid (but heavy design) of the old G3 Guide boot and reduce the weight by 35%, and...

...will be offered with Vibram soles, complete with "stud receptacles." For those of you familiar with this material, this is a huge jump forward from Simms' Aquastealth soles.

And in the wader lineup, Simms presents the new Headwater waders, replacing both the short-lived Riversheds and better-known L2's. Check out the G3 chest pocket and reinforced lower leg panels. If you can believe it, these guys are selling for less than $300 AND also come in a pants version!

This feature may look familiar and you may associate it with a hefty price tag, but...

...fear not! Simms offers the bladder-friendly zipper option on their new Freestone waders. Here's more good news: You can have them for less than $300.

Other notable mentions:

The G4 jacket now comes in a new color.

And for those of the spey persuasion, this should turn your crank, especially if you're a Tibor fan: the Tibor spey. Built on a Gulfstream chassis, but slightly smaller and wider, this baby comes with the famous Tibor drag and a few aesthetic modifications, not to mention a sweet moss-green finish.

Anyone drooling yet? :)

If anything in this entry catches your fancy, give Puget Sound Fly Co. a call at 253-839-4119. None of it will be available until next year, but I have a feeling some of this stuff already has a waiting list forming...

Where: Cowlitz River
When: Saturday
Conditions: Sunny, hot
Flies used: General Practitioner-style flies
Species pursued: Steelhead

Song of the day: "The Metal," Tenacious D

5:30AM, Saturday morning.

Expected high of the day, 98 degrees.

For the moment, things were cool. Steve Buckner, our guide for the day, pointed out our respective runs and described his approach to fishing them.

Wisps of vapor rose from the river's surface like curtains pulling back, revealing the slices of fishy water I had daydreamed about for the past week.

"Go through this with a fine-toothed comb--there's no need to rush here."

Steve's words eased my racing mind. Rushing is all I seemed to be doing this season--rushing to get there, covering the run quickly so I could dash to the next piece of water.

"I almost never see anyone fishing here."

For the first half hour, I held my breath, expecting to see the parade of boats I'd grown accustomed to.

Nada.

We had the river to ourselves.

And down the run we went.

Each of us picked our sections apart as best we could and were lucky enough to find some willing cutties, but no steelhead.

In lieu of our quarry, we received instruction in identifying a variety of holding water and, as Steve put it, letting our flies "hunt" through every run.

We were living out the proverbial "teach a man to fish" scenario. :)

From that point on, every swing became a study in presentation: casting angle, current speed, proactive line management--these elements as well as more subtle ones became points of intense focus. Too much focus, probably, since it was suddenly lunch time.

Nothing like a great homemade burger to clear your thoughts! :)

After our mid-day break we headed into the home stretch.

Steve continued to relate more information to us, explaining more about water speed and presenting the fly to the fish.

Once again, I slipped into student mode, applying things as I stepped down each run.

Ironically, I was so engrossed by how the fly fished through the current that the thought of actually hooking a steelhead ceased to be a concern.

And of course, that's when it happened.

Right at the bottom of the swing, not more than 5 feet off the bank, a fish pulled the slack loop from my hand.

This was no cutthroat--he move out into the current and rod it 10 yards downstream before the 7 weight turned him back upstream.

Foot by foot I pulled him closer until he lay within a rod length.

Then he did something I didn't (but should have) expect: he burst upstream of me.

By the time I could figure it out, the long-shanked hook worked its way free.

And so did the fish.

I didn't scream.

I didn't run after it.

I wasn't even upset.

Instead, I thought, "That was cool," and turned to Don, who had walked down to observe, and shrugged.

After the initial rush, processing crept into my brain...having been in learning phase all day, it was all too easy to analyze what just happened.

"Should I have swept the rod downstream?"

"Was the 8lb Maxima strong enough to handle me horsing the fish if I did?"

"Did I baby the fish too much?"

Thankfully, Steve walked down and we discussed things.

In short the answers are, "Yes," "Yes" and "Maybe." :)

We had just gone from a good day to a great as we headed into the last run before heading back upstream.

I figured I'd fish through it quickly, again concentrating on the fundamentals we'd been studying throughout the day and doubting the chance that I'd hook another steelhead.

"You're just getting into the cream of it," Steve said, made its way downstream.

I can't remember what we were discussing but in the middle of my sentence, my line jerked.

"No way," I thought, setting the rod.

"Yup, that's a steelhead--you saw your line move, right."

I nodded.

This fish was bigger, about 7 to 8 pounds by the guide's estimation, and this time, I leaned on the Maxima, attempting to swing it into the shallows.

After a short but spirited fight and with both Steve's watching...

...I lost the fish, again! Like the previous fight, this fish shook his head and worked the hook free.

This time, a bit of frustration came through as well as a few more questions--all of which Steve handled diplomatically without so much as even hinting to the fact that, quite frankly, I suck at fighting steelies. :)

In essence, I could have fought it even harder and that I should get over my fear of 8 pound tippet.

"Don't beat yourself up, though. Just take a breather--when was the last time you hooked two steelhead, after all?"

He had a very good point.

Minutes later, we dashed upstream, racing the setting sun.

Only to fall prey to the temptation of that very first run.

Steve slowed the boat down and looked at the three of us for a consensus.

Three nods came back and we hopped out.

"It's all yours, man."

And against the backdrop of a day reminiscent of one I had on the Deschutes, we fought back the sunset.

Where: Puget Sound
When:Sunday
Conditions: Sunny and breezy
Flies used: Clouser
Species pursued: Coho and searuns

Song of the day: "Mad World," Gary Jules

Seeing as how a few better than average reports have been coming in from the salt, I thought it might be a good time to check things out.

Following my typical summer fishing protocol, we left before daybreak and fished the sunrise at a beach I suspected would hold a few coho and maybe even a searun.

What we found was both encouraging and frustrating: consistent boils at different ranges but no takers.

Figuring we should find more promising waters, we checked out a few other spots, only to have our light two handers outgunned by the now prevalent breeze.

Shrugging the wind off, we decided to work a nearby rip--it was good practice, anyway, and besides, I was curious about what a smaller fish would feel like on my ultralight spey rod.

I had bought the rod specifically for the salt and today was just as much a reconnaissance mission as it was a fine tuning of equipment.

Luckily, I was able to accomplish both, albeit in a half-baked way. :)

Bottom line: there are fish in the Sound folks, my guess is that they're last year's resident coho, plus about 3 pounds. Judging by a few of the jumpers way out there, it's safe to assume that a few migratory fish are out there as well.

Where: Cowlitz River
When:Saturday
Conditions: Cool, overcast
Flies used: Not important. ;)
Species pursued: Steelhead

Song of the day: "Say It Ain't So," Weezer

After feeling pretty wiped out and taking last weekend off, I was ready to hit the water.

Rather than beat a seemingly dead horse and, more importantly, avoid the inevitably disastrous Seafair traffic, we pointed the Scion south.

When last we were there, the river was much higher, visibly faster and cold.

Scratch that last part. The river was still cold. :)

"This water's freezing."

The thermometer read 50 degrees.

Riiight. ;)

As first light arrived, so did the fish.

A splash here, a jump there. Some of them were within range of my meager casting ability.

They were definitely here.

"Must be the rain."

Or not--what do I know? I'm a beginner at this steelheading thing, after all...

Combined with the overcast, our confidence levels rose and two-stepped down the run, our worries of frozen legs shirked in favor of touching metal.

We had to hurry; along with building daylight came the typical boat traffic.

As a few of them zipped up and downstream, a driftboat floated by.

"Hey, how ya doin?"

"Good."

"Started fishing yet?"

"No. Any bite--is that a hookup?"

It was.

The slack loop left my hand and in the middle of his question, I raised the rod tip.

The fish erupted from the surface, angry at the Gamakatsu stuck in its face.

It bolted upstream. I reeled in an effort to keep up.

Back downstream.

"Damn," I thought. "This guy's big."

He bulldogged me to the left, then the right. I shifted the rod to keep his head pointed upstream.

A few minutes later, he swung into the shallows. I tried to ease him closer, but he panicked. I gave in, letting him run a bit.

There he goes!

On his next visit to the shore, I caught my first real glimpse.

Easy now...

He was THICK.

Flipping him on his side, he seemed subdued.

I put the rod down, grabbed my sink tip and moved down to the leader.

Much thicker than last year's fish, this brute was of hatchery origin, with a fat wrist.

A wrist I was about to wrangle.

Leader in my left hand, I reached down...

And the fish freaked out.

With no give on the line, he snapped the 15 pound 0X.

In desperation, I grabbed for his tail anyway, hoping he wouldn't realize he was free.

A stupid thought.

My attempt only helped to upright him.

And off he went.

Naturally, I gave chase.

"Nooo!!! Come back! @$#%&*!!!"

For a second, I just stood there.

"No way, no way."

Dejected, I walked to the bank in silence and sat down.

My hands shook--the joy, the loss and, of course, the chilly water had begun to take their toll.

Replaying the events in my head, I decided to rest my thoughts on the positive and move on.

I stood up and turned to Don.

"You're up dude, I'll start above you."

No sense dwelling on it. ;)