Until I get a 50, if I ever do, I think any fish will struggle to match the feeling I got from my first 20lb king. It was in the salt, I was 14 and my bro drove my friends and I down to the fishing peir by my house. It was on Fox Island (horrible fishing, but we couldn't tell the difference). The sun was beating down on us. I think it was like the middle of july. The smell of rotting herring was in the air, and our arms were tired from hausing in dog fish all morning. When the tides start to move, you can just huck your bait out, let it sit and the current will work it. I was using a trusty old pink and white buzzbomb and was leaning over the side of the dock with my little browning rod in my hand, which was loaded with 15lb mono, watching the little sun fish peck at the pilings. All of a sudden my line got heavy, nothing special. I pulled the fish to the surface, I don't even think it knew it was hooked, and it turned and took off into the depths. I spent a half hour working that thing on my trout rod and every time it got close to the pilings it would take off again. My bro stripped down to his skibbies and waded out and man handled the fish. We were a couple of young pimply faced kids who just landed a KING salmon!!!!! I think we all felt like we caught it. Coolest moment in my life. I knew when I held that thing in my hands, I'd be doing this for the rest of my life. I think the experience is just as important as the size. Sorry if that sounded corny. I'm not a born and raised OP local or nothing (did get out on my uncles db a few times growing up), but I think that helps me appreciate the fish a little more. The same kids I'd fish with growing up, now drool at my fish pics. Sorry if I jacked the thread, it just got me thinking.