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I grew up in the Pacific Northwest fishing the banks of Dairy and Gales Creek for 10" inch cutthroats, so you can imagine how thrilled I was when I moved to Eastern Oregon and learned about trophy trout. Your website caused me to catch the brown trout bug in 2009, and then finally in 2011 I landed my first over 5 lbs. The following story and pictures are of that fish.

The fish came on the last morning of a four day trip to East lake. The temperature that morning was very cold compared to the last couple mornings, but more what you would expect for early June at that elevation. I had been on the water since well before dawn and was enduring what is typically the coldest part of the morning as the sun started to break. I was yet to get a bite this morning and I kept telling myself "one more pass", "this is prime time", and "any minute now it could happen".

An hour later as I reached the end of one of my runs, I reluctantly turned my boat towards shore knowing that it was time to get on the road. Next thing I know, WHAM! My rod buries in the water, literally the top three guides were submerged in water when I grabbed the rod from the holder. My whole body began to tremble from the excitement (and the cold) as I felt his head shake, and watched the line zing off my spool. After three days of nothing over the three pound mark I was overcome with both joy, and excitement as I battled this fish. It is the only time I have experienced "buck fever" on a fish.

After several minutes I was able to calm down a little and breath a sigh of relief as i got that first wrap of fluorocarbon on my reel. Come on, just one hundred feet to go I told myself. The battle endured with me gaining slowly but surely, all the while he stayed deep never giving me a glimpse of him. My mind was racing, ten pounds, fifteen pounds, twenty? Then, finally through the crystal clear waters shape and color started to form, but as quickly as they appeared they vanished with a splash of a tail as I watched another thirty feet of line peel off my reel. Twice more he did this vanishing act before he gave up his fight and slipped into my net.

I still remember how my eyes fixed on that large hooked jaw getting closer and closer until my net was finally able to reach him. I weighed him after he spat out a eight inch chub and he totaled eight pounds six ounces, and taped twenty six and a half inches. Not the twenty pounds I'd dreamed of, but I was definitely satisfied.

I don't know what was harder, the fight or the release, it was definitely bittersweet watching him swim away. I've since caught bigger browns, but it's that first one that I'll always remember.

Thanks
Jeremy Evers