The weather was stormy, with rain pattering hard on the windshield, the glow of the 1 AM clock filling the darkness of the truck cab, and the smell of bad gas station coffee lingering in the air—nostalgia. The day prior in the rod shop, my buddies had stopped by to coax me into joining them on this early morning fishing bout roughly three hours away. Crazily, as my wife would describe it, I agreed… The feeling was all too familiar, taking me back to 2022 when I had my first run-in with spring kings, and it just so happened it was with the same group of guys. Excited was an understatement.
With the boat launched and the rods all geared up, we began the journey out to the main river channel. Navigating the shallow waters, I began to notice the sun’s rays starting to cut through the light rain clouds, uncovering the tree-covered rock walls and ridges around us. The gorge was beautiful. With the wind starting to pick up and the white caps getting more aggressive, the boat began to thrash as we made our way through our first trolling line of the morning. BOOM—it was game on. The first bite of the morning just so happened to be on my Takedown CX style rod. Glimpses of the chrome fish glistened through the water as we battled the fish and the white caps hammering the bow of the boat. At last, we tasted success, with Captain P’s sniper of a net job. Hatchery king in the boat, fish count 1.
An hour went by, and just as the wind started to really kick in, BOOM! Another hit on our Takedown 360 Troll rod. The fight was on again, and the excitement was through the roof. Then, out of nowhere, the fish launched itself out of the water, putting on a show just for us. We watched in amazement, but then... slack line. The fish had broken off. Maybe that was its way of saying, "Not today, folks." Even though we lost it, the adrenaline rush kept us pumped and ready for more action. It gave us that extra push to keep going, despite the crazy weather.
The morning continued, and with the wind picking up more and more in this location, we decided to move down the road and relaunch in another popular spot. This next area we were going to, I had always heard stories of from the guys in the rod shop but had yet to experience the madness for myself until now. It was a glorified game of bumper boats and testosterone. At least 40 boats swirled around this tiny pool, only inches apart in some spots. The sound of banter echoed from the surrounding boats, punctuated by the occasional excitement of a boat hooking into a springer. Despite the chaos and close quarters, I was beyond impressed. Captain P held such a calm demeanor while navigating around boats without any hang-ups or issues. After witnessing this chaotic scene, I understand why the day after we were there a verbal tiff turned to fists. For us, though, this spot did not produce on this given day, but man, was it an experience to say the least.
By noon, our energy waned, and our eyes grew heavy. The early start and the intense fishing had taken their toll. We decided to call it a day and head home, satisfied with our single catch and a wealth of new stories. The trip had been an adventure from start to finish, filled with the highs and lows that make fishing such a beloved pastime. As we packed up and headed back, I couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events, already looking forward to the next time I get to chase these windy canyon kings.