Lewis

If it’s Super Bowl Sunday, I’m going to be on a trout stream or on a steelhead river. It’s best to time the fishing to the kickoff because a bunch of people try to go fishing AND watch the game on the same day, which should be illegal.

One of my favorite rivers has been discovered, partly because ODFW puts a lot of big trout in the river. I used to have the water to myself on a Sunday in February. No more.

Last year we had a dry February, but there was still snow on the ground from our white Christmas. My friend Trevor Barclay and I crunched through the snow to the river side at about 3 p.m. when the armchair quarterbacks should have been firmly ensconced in their easy chairs, beers cracked and fresh bags of chips close to hand.

There were fly-rodders in all the best water, so we walked upstream a ways. I had two rods rigged and a new long-handled curly maple landing net built for me by my friend Paxton Eicher.

From time to time a trout would rise, but mostly, if the fish were biting they were biting each other.

No bugs were visible above the water, so I took a guess and cast a No. 18 blue-winged olive cripple. A 10-inch rainbow drifted back, let the fly pass then spun and went right up to the fly, kissed it then turned back upstream. The fish wouldn’t rise to the BWO again.

By the muddy footprints in the snow it was apparent there had been a lot of fly-fishermen walking the shore earlier in the day. Trevor tied on a streamer, cast across and stripped it back and a trout grabbed it but the fly didn’t stick.

It was past 5 p.m. now, the sun low in the west, the mercury falling. I stood up on the bank and saw several dark tails against the gray green gravel. A fish turned on its side and showed the colors of the kaleidoscope on its flank.

Down on my knees, I tied on a caddis larva, pinched the barb and swung it short. When the line shivered, I twitched the rod tip toward the bank. A big fish turned against the current and thrashed like a coho salmon then showed at the surface. I followed it downstream and reached for it with the net when I could see it in the shallows.

It was the kind of trout I refer to as a couch potato. A big hatchery rainbow, beautifully spotted, but rubbed at its nose and tail. I am not a disrespecter of fish. I gave it a “good game” handshake and it nosed out of the shallows back to the main current.

What I like best about football is it keeps people off the water. Same with a good rainstorm. In fact, where I live, the best scenario is the Seahawks are playing and there’s a 70% chance of rain. The only better thing would be if the Super Bowl coincided with Valentine’s Day and a deluge. That would be the perfect storm.

Could it happen? It turns out if we flip the calendar to February 2027, Super Bowl Sunday lines up with Valentine’s Day. Gentlemen, you have choices. Can you imagine anything more romantic? A candlelit dinner. The big screen. Hot wings, pork sliders and jalapeno poppers. Renewing your fidelity vows at halftime?

Me, I’m planning to buy my wife a 3-weight rod, a double taper line and a good wading jacket.