‏Swing flies for steelhead on the Vedder River in Chilliwack, BC.

‏Swing flies for steelhead on the Vedder River in Chilliwack, BC.

Catching my first steelhead using a fly fishing system, specifically the spey system, was an unforgettable achievement for me. It was not just about landing a fish; it was the culmination of years of effort, practice, and dedication to mastering a method that many consider one of the most challenging in the world of angling.

I had always been fascinated by the idea of catching a steelhead on the swing. The technique, “Swing the Fly,” is a poetic dance between the angler, the rod, and the river. It requires precision, patience, and, most importantly, perseverance. Living in Chilliwack, British Columbia, and fishing in the Vedder River, I knew I had access to one of the most renowned steelhead rivers in the region. However, the challenge of catching these elusive fish using a spey rod was something I had yet to conquer.

The journey started several years ago when I decided to transition from conventional fishing methods to fly fishing. At first, it was incredibly intimidating. Casting a spey rod felt awkward and foreign. I watched countless videos, attended workshops, and spent hours on the river practicing my casts. My friends and mentors offered advice, but the learning curve was steep. There were days when I felt like giving up, especially when I would spend hours in the cold water without so much as a tug on the line.

Steelhead are known as the “fish of a thousand casts,” and I quickly understood why. These fish are not only rare but also highly selective. Each cast I made with my spey rod felt like a prayer, hoping that the fly swinging across the current would entice a strike. I experimented with different fly patterns, but chartreuse flies, which have always been my favorite, seemed to give me the most confidence.

The winter of twenty twenty-four was particularly challenging. The weather in Chilliwack was cold and wet, and the Vedder River’s conditions fluctuated frequently. Yet, I made a promise to myself: I would not give up until I caught my first steelhead using the spey system. Each day after work, I would head to the river, sometimes before sunrise and often until sunset. My hands would ache from the cold, and my legs would feel numb from wading in the icy water, but my determination never wavered.

Then, in the final days of twenty twenty-four, it happened. It was a crisp, cloudy morning on the Vedder River. The water levels were perfect—slightly colored but still clear enough for the fish to see the fly. I tied on a chartreuse fly, made a smooth cast, and let the fly swing across the current. As the fly reached the end of the swing, I felt a subtle tap. My heart skipped a beat. I paused for a moment, letting the fish take the fly fully, and then set the hook.

The battle that followed was exhilarating. The steelhead took off with a powerful run, peeling line off my reel. My spey rod bent deeply, absorbing the fish’s energy as I carefully managed the fight. I knew I had to keep the tension just right—not too tight to risk breaking the line, but not too loose to let the fish shake the hook. The fish leapt out of the water several times, its silver body glistening in the morning light. Each jump felt like a moment of suspense, and I could feel my adrenaline surging.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, I finally guided the steelhead into the shallow water. It was a magnificent fish—bright silver with hints of pink along its lateral line. Holding it in my hands, I felt a sense of accomplishment that words cannot fully describe. This was the moment I had worked so hard for, the result of countless hours of practice, dedication, and persistence.

As I released the steelhead back into the Vedder River, I took a moment to reflect on the journey. Catching this fish was not just about the thrill of the fight or the beauty of the steelhead itself. It was about proving to myself that I could rise to the challenge, embrace the learning process, and succeed in mastering a technique that I had once found daunting.

Swinging a fly for steelhead with a spey rod is more than a fishing method; it’s an art form, a test of patience, and a celebration of nature. For me, it has become a way of life. The Vedder River, with its stunning scenery and challenging waters, is more than just a fishing spot—it is my sanctuary, a place where I feel connected to the land, the water, and myself.

This experience has strengthened my love for fly fishing and reaffirmed my decision to dedicate myself entirely to this method. Moving forward, I am more inspired than ever to continue refining my skills, learning from each cast, and sharing my passion with others. Catching my first steelhead with the spey system on the Vedder River in my hometown of Chilliwack is a memory I will cherish forever, a story I will proudly tell for years to come.

Ebi fisher