It was Kim who brought up the idea of moving. For her, it was a long time desire to move back to her native New England after being in Ohio for 20 years ago. Her daughter went to the University of Maine and graduated in engineering. She currently resides in Portland, Maine and her extended family still lives in Massachusetts. Her son is entering his sophomore year at Ohio State and he's given his blessing and understood why Mom wanted to move. For both of us, it's been a wide range of feelings from excitement to full of anxiety.
But, I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Alley and wetting a line. Luckily, we got some rain which has been a rare event this summer. It wasn't a lot, just enough to get some flow and let some early arrivals in. The window would be brief as the waters would clearing quickly and the temperatures would soar into the 80s later in the week. Monday would be the only day that I could get out. We just started packing and had about 2 weeks before the house closes. The day before I tied some sacs and I bemoaned that fact that I accumulated at least a season's worth of eggs in the freezer. Nearly every year, I go through fits of anxiety because nobody knows when the tackle shop will get eggs. But, I knew they wouldn't go to waste as I had a couple of friends that needed eggs this year.
I headed back downstream below the Main Street bridge and there were 2 other anglers fishing below the riffle. As it was like at the first spot, my first drift got slammed by a pretty large fish. The fight was brief as the fish tossed the hook. The two guys told me it was the first fish they've seen hooked. Not wanting to linger, I drove to another spot. I fished under another bridge and had no takers. I looked at the time and it was 10:30 so that meant another hour. I walked to the trestle and I figured any fish would be hanging out in the faster water. Just like the other places, I quickly hooked into another bright silver fish. I beached the fish and took a quick picture. It turned out to be last fish I caught for the day as the other spots didn't produce any takers. As I walked back and soaked in the scenery, because I have no idea if I'll ever make it back. On the drive back, I called a couple of friends to fill in the details of the trip. They joked that they'll miss my useful reports. When I arrived home, I quickly got into the basement and started what seemed like the endless process of packing boxes.
There will be a sense of sadness as I'm leaving behind 26 years of memories and friendships. I remember the move from Alberta in 1998, the first steelhead I caught, my first Indians and Browns game, when the Cavs brought Cleveland their first sports championship in 55 years, and meeting Kim on a whim back in 2015. But, I'll definitely miss fishing the Alley. Every September, I begin to stir and I grow antsy at the thought of hitting the rivers. I've grown to love the mornings when I'm heading out to one of the rivers for a day on the water. It was one the times when I was truly happy and in my element.
When I arrived home I placed my rod and gear in the garage corner. I looked at trusty ole rod and reel and we have plenty of stories to tell. Unlike my old fly rods, I couldn't bare the thought of every getting rid it. Later in the week, one of friends came by to pick up some eggs. He was still in disbelief that I was moving and told me I was more than welcome to stay at his place, if I decided to come back for a week. I would love to come back, but the cost of living is higher and the distance is pretty far.
For the reminder of the time it will be purging and packing. It will finally hit me when we see our possessions packed onto a moving truck and in a couple days we hit the road east towards to Maine.
I will miss Steelhead Alley
