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Don’t get me wrong, I love steelheading. I have vivid memories of racing down riverbanks attached to lake bound steelhead, twisting hand-tied streamers from the corner of grinning maws, and snapping photos of friends hoisting 30 inch bucks under the warm spring sun. There are no shortage of daydreams about bombers sipped from surface and floats disappearing with authority. But I’ve also been thinking about the trials and tribulations that accompany the activity.
While the thrill of victory can be all consuming, taking stock of the agony of defeat is a valuable exercise.
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