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I went out to Keystone Harbor at Admiralty Inlet for one last shot at salmon this year in MA9.
As I approached, I saw the usual angling suspects trucks were already parked in their hotspots and dug into the gravel with their boots.
I made my way to a spot, grabbed my gear and walked along the Stoney trail blazed toward the driftwood pile that crested the shore.
I paused to observe the Coupeville Ferry landing slip, the point at Fort Casey and out over the Sound toward Port Townsend flanking the Strait of Juan de Fuca which funnels Salmon from the Pacific Ocean, amazingly silhouetted by the ascending Olympic mountain range.
As the clouds were lifting, showcasing the heat of the sun, I turned my gaze south toward the central and southern Puget Sound that extends past Seattle leading to the rivers that spawned the returning two and three year old buck and hens I'm hoping for.
Turning to my left, the banks of western Whidbey Island were meandering back toward the crescent shaped gravel and stone shoreline of Keystone Harbor dotted with fishermen and women.

As I stood there I reflected, if only for a moment, at the imposing, awe inspiring majestic beauty of the Pacific Northwest in all of its evergreen splendor, thankful to have rod and reel in hand as I approached the billion year old saltwater.

I then made my way over the wide pile of driftwood that crested the shoreline, looking down the deeply sloping bank that had been carved out from millions year old glacier ice, revealed by a glassy flat-water low tide where I began casting a pink and purple rotator over a popscicle yellow hootchie.

After about 45 minutes, I feel a strike. My Okuma stick arched like a bow, creating a C as my rod tip shook violently from the struggle.
My adrenaline soared as I resisted the "urge".
I calmly allowed tension on the 12 pound P-Line copolymer and Gamagatsu barbless siwash hook cornered in the mouth of the bright chrome Pacific Ocean protein fed powerhouse.
Then the line sang from the Pflueger President reel as the chrome sided hen started to run, testing the drag set on my spool in a game of give and take.
After a few rounds of out and in, back and forth the old powerhouse conceded to my tackle, to be landed cleanly. 24"/5.5# hatchery Coho.
On the last day before closure I was treated to a bittersweet ending. (Two days before, I had lost my limit in two hours time- cut line and hook release).
I came back later that night as time ran out. Alot of jumpers and rollers showed with no luck. But north of me closer to the ferry a group of anglers were screaming for joy about their multi catches apparently with some size.
See you next year MA9.

makscoot

9/7/2017 6:35:59 AM

I thought I was reading a Luis Lamoure book for a while there.

SaltyFreshWetline

9/7/2017 9:20:41 AM

Makscoot- Yeah, I got a little carried away. I was hooked on Keystone when I landed a very large Chinook on a warm August evening in 2015 while fishing for that years smaller Pinks. Had to release it, but since then I keep reeling back to this shoreline.
Sometimes we are spoiled for our limit or that trophy catch that we forget how lucky we are to be part of life's cycle. I just wanted to take pause every now and again to enjoy it while IT and WE are still here.
I will always celebrate the Pacific Northwest.

Salmon King

9/7/2017 10:55:16 AM

Glad to hear that somebody got a Coho...
I went Coholess this year...??

Salmon King

9/7/2017 10:55:48 AM

Glad to hear that somebody got a Coho...
I went Coholess this year...??

ONCOfisher

9/7/2017 4:18:29 PM

Great writing - and congrats on the fish!

Goldrigger1

9/9/2017 6:14:30 AM

Ah yes, Luis Lamoure! I read all his books.
I've felt what Salty shares. Sometimes I get to feeling so good being out on the water it hardly matters if I catch anything.

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