If I Did It....

I'm not saying I did it, BUT if I did... here is how it would have gone down....

......The river was gin clear, and I had had it up to here.

Steelhead? Can't live with them, can't live without them.

I had been chasing after my trophy hen for days, and so far my North Umpqua Steelie, the "Nickel Bright" one that made me feel like a man, had been busting my chops. On top of that, my bank account had been dwindling, and "Nickel" had threatened to suck me dry, if I kept stalking her up and down the banks of the river.

"Nickel"--you don't mind if I call her "Nickel"-- and I had had a stormy existence to say the least.Early in our relationship, everything was great, I was a young athletic guy in the prime of my life and I was frequenting rivers throughout the Northwest. There were so many fish in the sea-so to speak- and I never got tired chasing them all. I could go all day, dancing up and down the banks, hitting all the hot spots, eventually hooking some unsuspecting young thing. All bright, feisty, full of life, along the river bank we would dance, and at the end of the day, I might even head home with one--sometimes two!!

Whoa, what a life!

I was the envy of all my buddies.

Then one day it all changed. I met "Nickel.

She was a bright one alright, and after a long day of chasing her-I hooked her.

"Nickel" was the hottest Steelhead I had ever hooked, and back in the San Fernando Valley where I grew up, the "boys in the 'burb" were pretty impressed with my prowess over these bright tails.

At least that is what I thought.

"Nickel" was wild, bright, fresh, and I planned to make her mine.

But wild North Umpqua Steelies don't go home to stay with anyone.

For one, the fishing regulations say so, and two, city boys like me, don't wind up with wily hens like this.

That just made the challenge more fun.

I hooked her alright, and she jumped, flipped, ran and did all she could to keep from coming under my control. But soon I had her under my power and it was just a matter of time before I planned to have her. She began to submit to my steady pressure and I felt just like a man should. Powerful and in control.

Then something changed.

"Nickel" refused to yield and her wild nature took control. She refused to be possessed by any man.

She ran.She hid. Under a big boulder, to be exact. I - I - mean, IF I was to be exact!

I could not get her to budge.

I tried to reason with her. "I am the man, and YOU are the fish!"

But it did me no good. She was arrogant and she meant to have nothing more to do with me.

I became angry. My buddies starting making fun of me, saying they knew I couldn't hold a hot trophy like that. "Your not as young as you used to be, hotshot--break it off and let's go golfing."

Now I was incensed. They were challenging my manhood here.

I stalked her up and down the riverbank, applying light pressure, then trying steady force,all to no avail.

The laughter from my friends was deafening, and her beligerance only fueled my anger. I begged and pleaded. "Come on baby, you and I have come too far to have it end this way."
Still, there was no reasoning with her.

My friends were embarrassed, and it was getting late, so they just left me there alone with "Nickel". Just the two of us, a wild river, a wild fish, a moonless night and two wild souls that would not back down.

I have always had my way with fish, and this trophy would not be any different. I grabbed a glove from my vest, my hands were tired from fighting this hen,and blisters were starting to develop. I grabbed my swiss army knife from my pocket and was finally ready to just cut the line and break it off.

Then something happened.

She rolled over and came free of that boulder.The young fishing stallion re-emerged in me and I was back on the hunt. We fought and tussled, but she was worn down from my constant pressure. I pumped up and down, reeling like a man possessed. Soon she was at my feet, exhausted and breathing hard.

And so was I.

I had been here a thousand times. " Come here baby, let me release the hook and you can be on your way." I grabbed her by the tail fin, and the wildness in her would not let her submit. She thrashed, kicked and actually came off my hook.

After that everything happened so fast.

I became angry. If it was time for us to part, it would be MY decision--not hers!

I dropped to my knees, and grabbed with my gloved hand around her throat. I dropped my swiss army knife somewhere in the water and couldn't find it, so I grabbed a rock and smashed it into her bright beautiful head, over and over and over until she laid blood soaked on my glove.

"What have I done?"

"Nickel Bright", full of life one minute, and now in my fit of anger..... GONE..... a lifeless WILD steelhead cut down in her prime. A.J., WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, I thought to myself. She shouldn't have challenged me that way! Why did she have to be so defiant? Why didn't she just submit just like all the other "hatchery" hens before her?

I panicked.

There was no one around, so I tossed her to the side. I couldn't get caught with this wild fish in my possession.

I pulled my "bloody glove" off and tossed it into the bushes. My swiss army knife was somewhere in that murky water, but it was to dark, and I had to get out of there.

I grabbed my fishing rod, and ran. I jumped into my Ford Bronco and slowly and sadly drove away.

There was nobody there to witness this and even though the game warden came across the grisly scene the next morning, nobody could "prove" that it was I who had killed "Nickel Bright". In fact, they tried to get me to fit into that bloody glove, but thank goodness, it must have shrunk. My swiss army knife has never been found, and that rock..... well ...it's secret lies somewhere at the bottom of the North Umpqua river.

NOW YOU KNOW....

.......I mean..... IF I DID IT..... that is the way it would have gone down.