One day a few years ago I was fishing the Sandy River for Steelhead. The
water was in great shape, and I was fishing one of my favorite pieces
of water above Cedar Creek. It was a perfect day--no wind, clear
water and nobody around but me--or so I thought. I quietly waded into
position and made several casts with my ten-foot sink-tip line. Within
5 minutes I had a Steelhead on, and 6 or 7 minutes later I had landed
a nice, bright 6-pounder. Since it was a hatchery fish, I decided to
keep it. I quickly cleaned it out and laid it on the ground behind
me. As I slipped back into the water, I casually glanced around to recheck
my fish. I was astonished to see a mink dragging it into the brush. I
quickly went over, chased it off and hung it up on a tree branch. I
resumed fishing for 5 minutes or so and then glanced back to see the
mink attacking my fish again. I was perplexed, so I reeled up,
grabbed a stick and tried to fend it off, but it repeatedly charged
me.
At this point I realized that this was his territory and I couldn’t
continue to cover the water and protect my fish at the same time. I
picked it up my Steelhead and reluctantly left the water to the mink.
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