In all of freshwater fishing there is no single fish surrounded by more wide spread madness, mystery, and devotion than the steelhead. From the deep cold water and vibrant blue-green rivers of the Pacific Northwest where wild strains continue their fight for existence, to the widely varying man-made populations of the Great Lakes, steelhead are the subject of relentless pursuit. Steelheaders near and far will describe the endeavor as a visceral addiction, pushing the limits of their bodies and gear in elements otherwise intolerable to willful activity. All walks of life fueled by the hope of what might lay just around the next river bend.

It all begins as a spark of curiosity. An instance that sews the seed into the minds of anglers and non-anglers alike. Perhaps seeing photos on bait shop walls or spread across the Internet showing smiling fishermen with giant, silver trout. Or seeing the crowds of wader clad madmen wandering a steelhead river in the middle of a winter day. “What are they?” Turns into “how do I catch one?,” and the seed sprouts.

It’s a hard game at first for many, but you stick to it. Struggling and begging for the chance to finally catch one of your own. Some are shown the way here, others make it by themselves. But one fact remains the same. When it finally happens, you’ll never forget your first.

From then on, the sprout grows into a problem of replication. “How do I make this happen again?” You’re hooked now, and thoughts of jumping steelhead snake their way into your brain at all hours. The learning curve is not a forgiving kind, as knowledge of timing, method, and conditions are slowly acquired. But eventually it comes together again, and then again, and you find yourself doing whatever it takes to scratch that new itch.

The new sapling grows faster now, and encounters with steelhead of all shapes and sizes begin to occur more consistently. The time it takes to reach this phase varies for everyone, and frankly some never make it this far. This is also a period where egos can develop and run wild, false confidence reinforced by the ignorance of how much more a seed can yet grow. Brands become important, numbers and fishing reports spread like wildfire, and heads swell. Humility lacks. There are many trees that stay this size forever.

Yet still, some trees will continue to grow. Unbelievable days of fishing are witnessed and at times repeated when good notes are taken. Timing becomes nearly second nature, and travels to pursue this favorite fish take on greater lengths as the quest for unexplored river bends continues. You become familiar with “the groove,” and the importance of staying in it. There is a pulse to this game, and he whose finger stays on the pulse will not often be left wondering. Some are consumed entirely by the beast that is steelhead fishing at cost to health, relationships, and whatever else that stands in the way. But this is also a period of epiphany. Suddenly you see that instead of a single tree growing up from the ground, you stand among a forest. Towering over some, and towered over by many more. Here you realize that instead of knowing it all, you’ve only just scratched the surface.

The evolution continues. New methods come and go. Finding new ways to scratch the itch until you find the one (or ones) that fit you best. Debates will go back and forth for eternity, but the correct approach will always be whichever you enjoy most. You seek new challenges, and work to hone aspects of your game that before you never knew existed. You learn to fish in all conditions, and recognize that prime rib doesn’t always mean a full belly. The more you learn and grow, the more the ego is diminished by the realization of all that is yet unknown. Knowledge is passed down, a tall tree casts a long shadow.

There is no limit to how tall this tree can grow. Just when you think that every river bend has been explored, a new facet of each bend reveals itself and the journey breathes new life. Trips may become less frequent for some, or ever more frequent for others. Priorities ebb and flow, physical limitations develop, the forest changes. New trees sprout up at the same time others fall, but the river still feels like home.

In the end, a full lifetime of knowledge gained still brings us all back to right where it first began. The steel woods.