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Grande Ronde Swing

A man swinging for steelhead on the Grande Ronde River

Turning towards the river’s edge behind me, I starting wading in as I retrieved my line so rapidly my reel sounded like a warning siren. The shrieking sound, reminiscent of a World War II air raid siren, was drowning out the sound that the water made as I pushed it out of my way. I am sure the little group below me that was chatting amiably around Kelly’s fire thought there was a heard of water buffalo crossing the Grande Ronde cranking on fly reels as they came on. Kelly said as much as I arrived at the happy little circle of anglers.

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