Took a friend fishing the other day, woke early and drove for more than an hour to get streamside. That’s an hour for me… and over three for Paul. Coming from St. Paul this guy woke at 3:30am to get to my place at a good hour for the drive to the stream. Boots hit the creek at 8:05am with a water temp of ~52 degrees. The creek had very minimal stain bordering on clear but the deeper holes were a bit off providing good conditions to pull trout out with heavy streamers. I stuck on the fly of the month, a #6 Black Kiss My Leech and put Paul on the first hole we came to. A couple missed strikes and we moved on, I put my leech on the tail end of a pool allowing it to sink a couple feet before picking my line up. Again I can’t stress enough how many fish I have taken recently  just by simply raising my rod to bring my streamer up and out slowly, often an aggressive fish is following close behind. This morning my leech was trailed to the surface to be crushed by a nicer 15+inch brown. Shortly after Paul landed his first fish of many for the day and we busted ass to cover as much creek as possible in a single day.

By noon we covered a good mile of creek pounding each spot with streamers only lingering if fish were caught with any regularity. The trout were on and aggressively hitting a streamer all morning. I wanted to get Paul a bit further from his usual fishing haunts and cover as much of this water as possible. Rainbow bridge (a spot known for it’s stocked rainbows), gave up nothing and we moved upstream. I was a bit disappointed, I was hoping Paul would get a Brown, Rainbow and Brook all on the same creek but after striking out at Rainbow bridge I was pretty sure we’d only see a Brook and Brown. Turns out I was way off. Upstream just a bit and the rainbows were out numbering the browns which is very unusual, typically I notice Rainbows in a very specific spot on this creek but today they were everywhere, more than a mile from where I would have guess I’d find them. Paul nailed his fair share of rainbows stripping his version of an SMB back to his feet but as the day would have it the Brookie would not be seen, a goal for next time. We worked alot on roll-casting and getting a weighted fly up and out of the water with a smooth motion, this keeps your weighted fly as close to the surface of the water as possible when you go to start your roll cast. The result: less tension from the water on your fly allowing it to roll out nicely despite it’s weight. On a side note: I landed the first fish I’ve ever caught with someone elses fly stuck in it’s mouth… I promptly removed both flies and let the fish go about it’s way. Not the brightest trout…

Further upstream we busted out of the woods and found ourselves in a trimmed cow pasture, a beautiful dark dogger was seen but not caught, it moved on my fly and despite my best efforts refused every presentation. The bluff walls around us were sporting the beautiful colors of fall, many leaves were hampering drifts but the weather couldn’t have been nicer. At ~1pm we made a choice to travel into the unknown, unknown water for the both of us. A much smaller creek giving up brown trout and creek chubs as we moved upstream. My opinion of creek chubs is grim as where there is one there are usually many and they will often hit your fly before a trout can. The flipside to that coin is that where there are brown trout and a ready food source like the Rosey Cheeked Creek Chub you will find larger trout. The second creek had a few interesting attributes, the first and most notable was the swarms of #20-22 Trico’s that I was spotting at each riffle we came to, at 1pm in late September… that’s quite interesting but few trout were rising. The second notable item would be the stain on the creek that was clearly not mud but something else all together.

The final note would be that as we fished upstream we caught fewer browns and more creek chubs. I ended up loosing the one KML that had taken every fish up to that point in the day. I decided to swap to a heavy as hell #8 Hairball with a tungsten bead and nymph some deep water, then something spectacular occurred… I caught a Carp on a trout stream, on a designated freakin trout stream. It was awesome! Trout and Carp love the Hairball, my 3wt looked like I had 6lbs of Brown trout giving me hell and all from a tiny carp. This thing was so small I bet the ones on the Columbia are born bigger! This fish totally made my day and I wanted to stay and tempt more but time was running out and another hour long drive was in order so we split, and that’s how Paul and I spent the last Saturday of the season, catching many trout and one awesome carp. Crazy.

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That would stand for Super Secret Sexy Streamer Stretch. Say that five times fast… Better yet? Hike around the Driftless Area for a couple years looking for the most amazing piece of streamer water holding some of the largest trout in high quantities, then if you find it… keep your mouth shut. It’s approaching the end of the season and the trout are putting the feed bag on in anticipation for the fall spawn, this means big fish looking for a big meal. I’ve been spying a new stretch of creek for a while now waiting for the right moment to tackle some steep banks and thick vegetation, with the cooler weather it seemed like the time was right. Sershen and I got on location and made a decision to hike downstream to point A, fish up to point B quickly then concentrate our efforts from point B to point C, a thickly wooded section of creek that just looked daunting. My fly of choice was a #6 Black Kiss My Leech as I have exhausted every last Sprinkle Me Baby that I own, the only ones left sit in the ceiling of my fishing vehicle, the only real trophies other than photos I collect when big trout strike. Conditions were about as good as I could have hoped for, a bit of overcast on arrival with the creek stained a bit. We knew this could turn out disastrous with few fish caught while struggling through a thick forested mess, on the other hand the potential for hooking into large fish lay on the other side of the coin. I guess I’m a gambling man and I’m of the opinion that unless you hike it and put your flies in the drink you really don’t know what’s out there, you have to see it with your own eyes.

Downstream ~45min later we were at point A. That’s right, 45 minutes of hiking through thick ass brush, weeds taller than the average man and more burning nettles than I think I’ve ever cursed before. Along the way the first of many trout was nabbed as our path forced us to cross the creek in a particularly tasty location, a deep drifted Kiss My Leech very slowly brought to the surface revealed a 14inch Brown trailing it only to strike within an inch from the surface. My experience has shown when drifting anything really really deep bring it up slowly, so many times I’ve had a fish trailing the fly all the way to the surface. I look at it like this, if the fish strikes, excellent. If not you now know a depth that a fish was holding at or at the very least that you were able to get deep enough to find a trout along the way back to the surface. If you arn’t getting your flies to the fish they will not strike. So the first fish showed its ugly face… literally. This fish looked like it picked a fight with a Heron or something, the jaw was busted in several places and was all bloodied up yet it still nailed my fly…

Downstream at point A we took turns presenting streamers to tasty looking water spending only a few minutes in each location. It’s important to spend enough time to be confident that your flies are getting to the right locations in the creek but not so much time that your wasting your afternoon. We tag-teamed specific runs and others we split and each took solo. Point A to B went quickly and a handful of Brown’s ranging from 13-15inches were caught before I managed the first dogger of the day. 18inches according to the tape, this trout caught me a bit off guard as I had pulled a smaller 15inch fish out just prior to hooking this guy and was not expecting much to come of a second pass, I was wrong. Several nice head shakes and this fish was working me over pretty well, I thought about reaching for my net as I hollered back to Sershen for assistance but ultimately opted to keep my hands on the rod and line which kept this fish from wrapping me around a tree limb. I eventually moved him to a shallow section full of mud and scooped him up with the net. Dogger #1.

We moved upstream and the #6 Kiss My Leech could do no wrong, it hit the creek and the brown trout turned and hit it just as quickly. The strike to hookup ratio was almost 1:1 by this point and things were looking excellent. We reached point B and took assessment of the thick jungle. We opted to hike the forested edge at first but I got sick of that after attempting to climb a steep bank up and out of the creek only to end up sliding face first into a bunch of nettles. Shortly after I hopped in the creek for good and made roll casts to any dark or deep peice of water basically continually moving upstream until I found something super tasty: like this, at which point Sershen and I would take turns attempting to pull something out.

This water was giving up 12-16inch Brown’s left and right to the Kiss My Leech, for a good hour I could do no wrong just put the fly on the fish, often they hit it so hard I didn’t have to do much to set the hook. As time wore on we began noticing the random aggressive rise and shortly after Sershen pegged the cause, big, ugly, flying beetles. There were so many that at one point I took more than one to the head and neck. I came to fish streamers through big ugly Driftless water so I stuck with the Kiss My Leech as it was kicking ass, Sershen opted to try a foam beetle pattern after loosing his streamer to a snag. He did manage one trout but before he could land the fish and retrieve his fly we watch the fish wrap him around a tree branch, shake once and take off. The streamer was re-applied in short order.

Bouncing through the creek bank to bank is not the ideal way to go in my opinion but some situations call for it. The fish, despite my un-coordinated trudging remained eager to eat and relatively un-affected by my presence. I managed a nicer 16inch Brown along with a handful of 14-15inch fish along the way, they were promptly released without me so much as touching them, a simple grab and twist of my barbless fly put the trout back in the creek and kept me making casts and landing fish. We worked the wooded section up and came to a couple deep spots that deserved a bit more attention but only a couple shadows were seen, it was the faster deep riffles that held the bigger fish for the day. Sershen, after putting on a #8 Hairball, pulled two nice fish from a deep riffle then turned around and landed an 18inch female sporting a serious gut. This was the icing on the cake, Dogger #2. With both of us content and promising it wouldn’t be long before we were back on this water we quickly fished back to the vehicle with Monarch butterflies following us on our way out.

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So it went that the last day of the catch and keep season I went George hunting. I had spied this trout several times throughout the latter half of this summer season, I watched her come out twice on previous attempts but hesitate at the last moment only to slink back to the hidey hole thus eluding my net. Armed with a #6 Black Kiss My Leech, one large splitshot, 3x tippet on a 6ft leader and a big net I made three casts before I saw her come out. She moved and again hesitated, I thought I missed my opportunity but decided to cast to her again as she had not tasted hook. On a down and across swing (she had moved downstream from me after following my fly on the first attempt) I watched her come up and nail my fly ~3inches under the surface. This fish felt like a hog, I didn’t realize how much of a hog until I got her into the net. She taped at exactly 22inches and was probably the largest fish I’ve caught in terms of girth to date. And so it went that on the last day of the catch and keep season I nailed a George, smiling in the sun, knee deep in the creek I let this fish swim from my hands, splashing my face as she returned to the place she came from. Flies will take big trout around here, persistence helps, so does a big net and 3x tippet. Note: the crappy out of water photo was taken in a heart racing moment with adrenaline pumping, a typical scenario that I’ve been fortunate enough to enjoy a handful of times in my short career fly fishing the Driftless Area.

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I know of a spot where the fish can be seen. They readily take a fly because they are stockers and in all likely hood very hungry. This provides an opportunity for anyone young or old to get into trout fishing. I don’t care if it’s on the fly or gear, opportunities like this are for those who want to learn and need a bit of encouragement (that and those looking for an easy meal). Take someone fishing, do it for the fish, for trout stamp sales, to get them outside, to spend an afternoon together, to avoid the television, to breathe fresh air, to see them smile. I posed a question to Liz… You wanna go get dinner?

To my sha-grin she nodded and shortly we were out the door. I was hoping the fish would cooperate and give me an opportunity to get her a handful of fish on the fly before she became frustrated with any complications. I should preface this by reminding you that Liz has been fly fishing longer than me and it was her father who turned me on to something that controls a good portion of my brain, time and resources. Liz just never got that into it, maybe it was the plethora of grasses, weeds and other items that cause skin irritation (she is very allergic to specific plants,bees/bugs, ect.), maybe it was getting her flies all tangled up and having to spend time getting things sorted out, either way she just never took to it the way I did. So by taking the two factors that I know she dislikes the most about fly angling and eliminating them completely I was hoping to encourage her interest. Someday she may be willing to consider going out with me during the winter months when the plants are all dead and buried. All I know is that if I could, I’d fish never fish with anyone else.

Streamside, minimal hike, minimal weeds and a nice roll cast. I got her situated in the creek, put the fly on and showed her how to roll cast a couple times. Then I basically sat back, unhooked fish and took pictures for the next three hours. I did bring a second rod in case she was having a good time but I didn’t feel the urge to fish. I was enjoying myself well enough just watching my girl get into fish after fish, seeing the urge to hook another build in her face. These rainbows would hit the same fly twice if you put it on them right. For some reason they take to a down and across swing presentation well, something about the fly sinking a bit and then rising as your line opens up and when it does… smack. Fish on! I gave basic verbal instructions when I knew a fish was on but she hadn’t seen it hit or how to play a fish in without getting it caught up in the weeds. I prompted her to keep the line tight and the rod up when she would slip a bit but other than that Liz and the fish were cooperating quite well. Over two hours in and Liz had landed thirty rainbows easy, she did have me catch one or two here and there but I was very content to let her take the reigns and get her fill of fishing. We left the creek with a heavy creel and some good photos. Not once did she get her line tangled, only wrapped around the rod when she left too much line out before casting. Consider that the next time you lift your rod up and back, the roll cast. I’m officially the biggest advocate for the roll cast.

Two days later… we did it all over again. Awesome.

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I was fortunate enough to get in a couple hours with some friends of mine, Wendy B. and his two boys James and Danny. With the younger ones with us the expectations for the outing were fairly low, I just wanted to see James in action fishing his spinning rod with a twister tail jig. We got on stream and hiked a short distance to the first couple of easier opportunities for this guy to catch a trout. The recent rain which dumped over .7inches of rain in my gauge at home in less than two hours the day before had turned the creek to borderline mud. It was fishable but I had my doubts.

Once in position I watched as Wendy B. did a bit of minor instruction, pointing here or there to encourage good placement of the jig. Maybe instructing how deep to allow it to sink simple things without any hand over hand instruction. After several minutes with no luck James lost interest and moved away from the creek to a small pond looking for frogs/toads and snakes. Wendy just simply allowed him to work things at his pace. While I’m observing all this go down I’ve got my line rigged with a two fly nymph rig consisting of a # 12 Free-Range Scud and a #16 Pink Patrick all the while Danny is perched on my shoulders and I’m roll casting my flies through a run. I got a handful of strikes right away but couldn’t seem to make any of them stick. I moved upstream to look back and see James with his rod again, fishing a hole with his dad just downstream fishing a run. I smiled at this scene and took a couple pictures. Someday, maybe James will love these pictures.

Ho-humming along taking a few swings here and there I had switched to a #8 Olive SMB and picked up a smaller 12inch brown. James was fishing downstream from me when my line went tight after a good cast was put next to a larger boulder. A dogger was on the line, in my excitement I managed to call everyone around Wendy B. and the boys watched as I moved the brown to the bank. This was a beautiful fish and the boys were digging it. I took a shot of James with the fish right away and then asked Danny if he wanted to help me release the fish in a riffle just upstream. I enjoyed seeing the boys look at the larger fish maybe more than actually catching it. Danny and I released the brown for an adventure some other day and with that we moved upstream to wind out the afternoon. I hung around with the boys looking for toads while Wendy B. took a crack at a couple good looking runs. While away from the creek we spotted a cow that had a horrible limp, back right hoof could barley hold the weight as it limped along. I stopped what I was doing and took pictures of the animal then promptly parted ways with my friends to see if I could find the landowner. I knocked on his door and looked around but no answer, I would later find out after calling the landowner that the cow had a bad case of foot rot and that had he not caught it in time to give it anti-biotics it may have ended up being put down. He didn’t know about the situation and was very grateful that someone was looking out for the cattle. Shortly after getting back on the creek we decided it was time to take off. One dogger and a saved cow hanging out with two of the coolest kids, a very good day.

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