The 2nd day of the weekend adventure saw me shivering as I rolled out of the tent, the night before as we pulled off the creek due to thunder and lightening we got a decent dousing. After a cold evening that shower coated everything in a thick layer of frost. I prepped the fire and got things going, a choice was made to pack up camp quickly and head out. We chose to hit the same creek as the day before, with Liz knowing the water a bit better the chance of her doing as well if not better than the day before was good. After a brief stop to get a cup of much needed coffee we were pulling up to an Iowa creek void of any other vehicles, good choice to go on a weekday.

10am creekside and the airtemp was cool in the low 40′s. Layers of clothing were applied, the wind was not going to help us again but Liz was able to handle it the day before so I had no fears that it was going to hamper anything. She rigged her rod with the same #14 Pink Patrick as the day before and we hiked to the first spot for the day, our goal was to leisurely fish the rest of the creek that we hadn’t seen the day prior. I sat back and enjoyed my black coffee hunkered down low to keep out of the wind, I watched as my girl took aim at a slow section of water that had given up a handful of nicer sized rainbows the day prior. It wasn’t long before I was up off my ass taking photos, I let her do the landing and releasing as I won’t always be right by her side to do so. She worked that first spot over well and landed a half dozen or so rainbows before we moved upstream. By noon the sun was warming things up, I spotted a handful of rises upstream as we hung on another stretch that Liz was nymphing. It wasn’t long before I watched a BWO float past.

Thinking to the day before and Carl’s dry fly prowess I snuck away upstream after I spied the first handful of rises coming from a very long slow moving stretch of gin clear creek. I rigged my rod with a #18 Parachute BWO and tried to land my fly without sending the trout scattering. There is something so satisfying about taking a tiny trout under difficult conditions, being able to see that trout scoot over and nail your fly from thirty feet out is that much better. Shortly after I noticed Liz was behind me watching my approach and cast, she was studying. The first fish was a well earned brown, the two that followed were eager rainbows. I moved upstream and talked Liz through my approach, what I was thinking and what my goals were. Upstream a bit further and I was into my kind of challenge, a lone rising trout in a very difficult position, this was going to require some luck. Under a small rock outcropping was a lone rainbow rising every so often, I had to get my fly to land in just the right spot to allow for a drift under the rock outcropping without catching my fly on any one of the snaggs hanging from the rest of the rocks around. Liz and I waited and watched. A couple attempts and I got the perfect drift on the location which resulted in a splashy rise from a smaller rainbow, right under the rock outcropping. This was the day maker for me, the holy grail of fly fishing, the pick your fish.

With my day fully made I turned my attention back to Liz who was watching this show go down and getting eager to maybe toss a dry fly of her own. We tried the #18 BWO for a bit but it was soon apparent that she needed something a bit larger to start with, I had her stick on a #10 Stimulator and let loose on a run that was bringing trout to rise. Fifteen minutes later and she hadn’t landed a fish, hadn’t gotten a single strike but her backcast was getting better. She knew she had blown any chance at those fish and yet we sat there practicing that cast for another fifteen minutes. The smile on my face probably looked stupid but sitting in the sun watching her slap the creek with her line then slowly figuring it out couldn’t have been better. Truth be told I saw one trout rise in a rough spot and I asked if she wanted to try for it instead she handed me her rod. Second drift and I watched that rainbow turn downstream, chase after that Stimulator and nail it. The sun was glorious and the morning layers were shed during the afternoon hours making for a very enjoyable day on the water. We fished for another hour or so but wanted time at home before dark so we called it around 3:30pm and hit the road.  Can’t stress how fortunate I am, the pictures illustrate that well enough.

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After the 1st 24hrs of the two day adventure it was clear… my gal can fish. If she keeps it up… we’ll I don’t even want to get into the thought that she’ll be out-fishing me soon. Plans were loosely laid out towards the end of the week, we both took Monday off and planned to get a few things done around the house before hitting the road for Iowa. We convinced Liz’s brother to watch our dogs, gear was packed and maps were looked over then looked over again. We drove around until a spot to camp was found, this ate up a bit more time than I would have liked but ultimately things worked out in our favor, got a spot less than twenty feet from a top notch Iowa stream all to ourselves. We quickly set up camp, prepared the fire pit for later that evening then split for trout water.

Earlier in the week Liz and I made a trip to the Driftless Angler, we had arranged a time with Mat to get into the shop for some much needed gear. Liz needed the basics, rod/reel/line and a pair of waders/boots. Mat had exactly what we needed and set us up in fine style. Liz tried out an 8’0″ Echo 4wt and we paired it with a Lamson Konic reel lined with some secret super line that I’ll get to another day. Mat also happened to have a pair of women’s chestwaders in the right size (finding the right size for Liz can be difficult). Boots worked and with that we had what the weekend demanded. Thanks to Mat for accommodating us, if you need Driftless gear…get a hold of Mat and goto the Driftless Angler.

So, the fire was prepped, tent pitched, and a cold beer was about to be history when we geared up for an evening on the creek. We had roughly an hour and a half of daylight, I hiked us to a spot I know of and rigged Liz’s rod with a #14 Pink Patrick with a single splitshot and an indicator. We only had a couple hours before the sun set, I watched Liz roll cast to trout holding in a deep hole. These fish are pressured, they have seen anglers before and they know what a fly is. After about an hour of roll casting, mending and watching the drift Liz had missed two solid strikes, line management (lack there of) will burn the learning angler many times. We hung out casting to trout until it got so dark we couldn’t see the indicator anymore. We hiked back to the campsite, lit the fire up and cooked a quick dinner. An hour or so later Carl showed up wanting to hike through the woods to try a bit of night mousing. We hiked over two miles downstream and fished back up, a couple hours of fishing and we had nothing to show for it. Liz was a good sport and hung out with Carl and I while we got a couple strikes but never did end up landing a trout. Mousing has been spotty since fall has set in, I’m curious if it is a product of the change in season or the water we are fishing, something is not the same as it was a month ago.

Back at camp we finished the night with a good beer and a big fire. The next morning we shook off the frost and crawled out of the tent to find a beautiful blue sky with a bright sun staring back at us. The plan for the day, take off, search a new creek and maybe meet up with Sershen. Once cellphone reception was restored (I turned the phone on for the briefest of moments) we set a time/place to meet up with one of my friends, Carl who just couldn’t leave good fishing and who slept in the car came along for the search. The four of us met on a new creek, we picked a direction and split up. Liz and I moved upstream from our initial location and worked on roll casting a single nymph rig with an indicator. After working on her mending a bit more she was getting strikes regularly, it took a bit but she landed her first trout of the weekend shortly after our arrival. A puny rainbow with a tail deformity spared the fish a serious photo and instead we went right back to casting.

Liz continued to fish a #14 Pink Patrick while I tied on a slightly larger #12 Black Hairball and moved upstream from her, not too far as I was her source of tippet, nippers and other important supplies but enough that my presence wasn’t going to get in her way. The look of determination was plastered all over this girls face and I didn’t want to sound like a nagging fool so I tried to give her some space throughout the afternoon. She stuck at that first spot for quite a while before wanting to move on, maybe longer than I would have but I was enjoying seeing her take part in something I love.

We moved upstream to find cattle muddying the creek but that didn’t seem to bother the trout any. Liz continued roll casting her rig and continued to haul in trout. A couple hours after our arrival and I was fishing upstream on my own and every so often I would see her set a hook, watch the rod bend hard and land trout after trout. We sat in the sun for a while and enjoyed the beautiful weather, the wind which greeted us on arrival remained through the day but didn’t hamper progress much until near the end of the day. After several hours being separated from the rest in our group we hiked back downstream until we came across our friends. Sershen took off in search of other water while Carl, Liz and I continued back upstream to fish out the rest of the daylight. Liz was picking spots, making casts and landing fish. Carl fished a tiny dryfly for the majority of the day and continued through the evening while I tossed a Hairball landing a trout here and there. I fished some but I spent alot of my day content enjoying the creek and watching my girl get into browns and rainbows.

Again, this girl can fish. The sun came and went with the clouds, it would make random appearances throughout the afternoon before eventually hiding behind a wall of thunderheads that would later signal the end of the day. A couple light rain showers were enjoyed before the thunder came and with it the strong lighenting that forced us to put our rods down, pack our gear and head for camp. Day 1 was a good day, all goals were accomplished with style and more importantly Liz wanted more…

Note: Brown and Brook trout are spawning on the creeks in the Driftless Area. I was very careful to take steps to avoid all potential redds and to point out those I was sure held trout eggs. Liz and I crossed the creek only when we needed to and we crossed in deeper muddier spots avoiding riffles when possible. We never cast to any spawning trout and we try to make our impact on the fish during this time of the year as minimal as possible.

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Two beautiful days and two cold nights spent in Iowa. Visted by a couple friends, watching the girl land trout. Fishing dry flies, nymphs and streamers. Many fish seen. Rain showers, lightening, campfires and beer. Tired and a bit worn out, bed soon. I’ll get to the rest later. Life is good, life is very good.

I don’t think I’ve been this anxious about anything regarding fishing, I want the winter season so damn bad I can practically feel my toes going numb from sitting in the same spot for hours trying to take tiny brown trout on a #20 Midge.  Everyone has their favorite time of the year to fish, mine just happens to be during the coldest part of the year. Fishing the four best hours of the day, going home to tie flies and sit infront of the fire. Someone cryogenically freeze me until  Dec. 31st, then thaw me out just enough so I can go fishing, right Carl?

Hiking through miles of snow covered bank, snowshoes, frozen guides, frozen fingers, crystal clear water, tiny bugs…I want it all and I want it now. I sound like a whiny girl, yea I can hit the road, be in Iowa shortly and no-doubt my boots will cross that border again before the winter season begins but not without a bad taste forming in my mouth. I like the fix that Iowa can give me but in the same respect, it’s not my water, it’s not my home and therefore I need to remember that the pause, the build up to the winter season is one of the reasons why I love it so much. Spending the three months prior tying flies, cleaning my gear, spying maps for new places to fish, all of it gets me so excited to see it that it turns the 5°F airtemp into a heatwave (that and I know what to wear). Below are the video’s I made last winter season, damn I am looking forward to the snow. Until then the list is long and I’ve got boxes and boxes to fill, things to scrub, places to dream about.

It should be noted for all that I am truly a lucky bastard, you see Liz and I met up with Carl and his girl recently, from what I can remember it was a blast and went something like this. Note: Lack of sleep may significantly change how you remember a series of events. The gist of what happened goes as follows… After a beer at 10pm some discussion about how awesome fishing for trout begins, at 11pm it was decided that Iowa was only an hour away would put up fish, the weather was good and I happen to travel with my gear. The four of us, on a whim split for Iowa just after 11pm. We get to the discussed location, quickly build a fire and pitch tents. With the rods readied and girls in tow we split down a path guided by the light of an almost full moon. We hiked through the night fishing each spot that met the criteria for a mousing opportunity, it was so bright it mid-as well been noon. The girls who followed were ferried across riffles, one stayed dry, one got a bit wet. They kept each other company whilst Carl and I approached the darker spots looking for water that was void of a reflection. For their parts they should be commended, who ever heard of such a thing, hiking through the woods in the middle of a beautiful October night following fools with mice patterns. One of these nights I’m going to get a picture of Liz and a fat fish with a hunk of fur hanging from it’s jaw.

By three AM the moon had bested us, we had yet to land a trout, some were heard but the entire valley seemed calmed by the presence of the moonlight, basically it was a bust. Paying attention to the moon cycles and valley walls will be important next season. We hiked the girls back to camp and re-built the fire then decided to head out again to see if the lower angle of the moon would create a couple black spots for us to cast at. At ~4am I hooked and landed the only trout seen that evening. At roughly 13inches it was a stocky guy who put up a good fight, he was released and we hiked back to camp to sleep for a few hours.

From 6-10am we slept. With the sunlight came the sounds of hunters shooting their guns, we woke and prepared a makeshift breakfast, at this point anything to get a couple calories down would have done the trick. We left camp for the road and stopped at the first spot we saw, a long slow stretch perfect for mousing was staring us in the face and we totally missed it. Something for next time…. with that said we had water in front of us and rather than drive to find something else it was decided that this would suffice for a beautiful afternoon of trout fishing in the driftless area. The creek was gin clear and low by close to a foot, combined with thick instream vegetation it was going to be a challenge.

Carl opted for a #18 Dry fly not sure exactly what he was casting but he made it look easy, effortlessly casting a good forty feet into the wind. I tried a #16 Free Range Soft Hackle but ended up settling on a #16 Pink Lab, the last one in my box. It came from a good friend and now I’ll have to pester him for some of his dog’s fur. I spent the next couple hours working up a low crystal section of water picking off a couple fish here and there. The #16 Pink Lab was crushed the second it hit the water resulting in a handful of lost fish due to poor line management, something to continue working on. I moved a fish pushing 17inches but as it followed the fly downstream it spotted me standing wide eyed, probably gawking and decided the sight of this fool was enough to turn tail for better sights, bested by my best friend and greatest adversary, the trout. 

Carl lagged behind working his dry fly while I put down a bunch of fish and continued upstream, I was anxious, felt like moving and decided I should see as much of this new Iowa water as possible before the trip home had to be made. Definitely saw a hole with a 20incher in it, maybe more, good to take note of such sights. The entire time Carl and I were fishing the ladies were wandering the area enjoying the beautiful weather, when October gives you near 80 degree air temps you take advantage of it. Truth be told I saw some sun bathing going on at one point and I know for a fact that someone got sunburned. Good to have the girl along on these trips, keeps us together and her finding more interest in what I love. Soon, very soon, change is coming on that front. I concluded my portion of the afternoon by poorly casting to some big shadows in a shallow creek, I herded those trout upstream so fast it was almost humorous. Sometime I just stink and don’t take the time to approach the fish with the caution needed to move one, hook one, land one. Fishing in those kind of conditions can be taxing. Next time… work on the dries, work on the wet flies more… Thanks to my new friends for a good and crazy trip to Iowa, to be done again.

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Things work out in interesting ways sometimes, had I not gone out with Carl two days prior I might have not fished the last day of the season which would have broken a three year tradition. Being busy with work and other obligations saw me missing hours of trout fishing until I got home. I tried to get ahold of Carl but he was busy catching trout in another valley void of cell reception and not wanting to miss out I took what I learned from Carl a couple days before and decided to go it alone. I took note of the type of water we fished, racked my brain for another location that I knew and took off as soon as I got home. The drive to the creek saw the sun setting in my rearview mirror, as the light grew dim my foot grew heavy and the car flew to the stream. My goal was to arrive with enough time to hike into the remote section I wanted to fish with plenty of sun to get a handle on the situation before the lights went out. I was fortunate and my lead foot got me to the creek with more than enough sunlight to accomplish my goals. Rigged at the car I was hiking by 7pm, the first section I wanted to fish required a decent hike through a very thickly wooded section of forest. My only thought at the time was of the hike back through in the dead of night, part of me wanted the daylight to get in so I was forced to deal with the forest in the night, sort of a trial by fire, do or die, go or sit at home on your fat ass kind of deal.

I made it to my location with enough sunlight to sit and enjoy the scenery, eat a sandwich and drink a beer, things I rarely get to do while out fishing but I wasn’t fishing yet. I could have tied on a streamer and hit something near by but opted to sit and wait for the light to fade. Hunkered low with my eyes set on the first location I waited, waited and waited some more. Silent, my ears started picking up rustling in the distance as the light dimmed the noises got louder and closer yet I sat low in the tall weeds waiting until I couldn’t see my hands held in front of my face. When the time was right and I couldn’t wait any longer I made a series of casts to a smaller pool, afterwards I believe the current was too fast and my fly just couldn’t produce the wake followed by the pause to illicit a strike. I moved up and out to the next stretch, the bats were coming out in droves by this point. I could feel them running into my flyline while I was stripping my fly slowly back in. The second location turned out to be the best of the evening and I took over a dozen trout between 12-15inches in length over the course of the first hour fishing in the dark. The sky was clear and the stars were out illuminating the rock wall I was casting to, this made the casting a bit easier but thinking to what Carl had said regarding the presence of light I was pleased to see so many trout attempt to take the mouse pattern.

By the time I had fished to the head of the pool I had moved into an area where the clear sky was no match for the valley walls, it was pitch black. I made two casts to what I thought was a downed tree trying not to get my fly hung up. On the second cast, the third pause I got what I came for… an explosion. The fish didn’t stay on long but it proved that this is going to be an effective way to find the larger trout. I wasn’t dissapointed that I missed the trout, it was the heart pounding strike that I was excited to get. I’ve read that big trout don’t eat the mice straight away, rather they grab their prey and play with it under the surface before eating it, some texts and articles say you should pause and not set the hook for a bit. Try getting your brain to not signal your hands to do what they are trained to do when that big boy hits… it’s going to be damn hard to overcome that instant response.

After losing the big strike I decided it was time to make the trek back through the forest. I turned on my headlamp and looked to where I had to go, staring back at me were 8-10 sets of eyes clearly visible less than fifty yards in front of me. I had only one way I could go and that was through the forest, towards whatever it was that was out there with me. I grabbed another flashlight and made a bit of noise stumbling through the woods and never saw what was staring at me in the dark, I did however kick up a skunk who was not pleased to see me, thankfully he chose to spare me his wrath and I escaped without having to ride home to explain to Liz why I couldn’t step inside the house.

After trudging through the forest I fished two more locations that gave up a handful of trout each, by this point the airtemp was dropping quickly and I almost had to keep moving to keep the cold away. I planned the entire evening around the last section of creek, I felt it offered the best potential to produce larger fish in larger numbers. Hiking out of the woods and rounding the bluff I saw the potential for disaster. I had not anticipated a security light illuminating the creek and specifically the stretch I wanted to finish on. At 10:30pm I began fishing the last section up, it wasn’t until I was in the only spot that wasn’t directly illuminated by the light that I was able to bring trout to surface. I landed the last fish of the season at ~10:50pm and fished until the 11pm cut off. Not a bad way to end my third full season, trying something new, learning a bit about myself and a new take on fly fishing the Driftless Area.

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I’ve been fortunate enough to meet some excellent fishermen as a result of this blog, those with similar ideals have contacted me and when things work out I get the opportunity to learn new skills and gain perspective from other anglers. A fella by the name of Carl had left me a couple notes and during my busy last week of the season his offer of a night adventure for big trout on a mouse pattern finally got to me, I had to go. We met at ~6pm, made the short drive then tackled the half hour hike into the middle of a secluded valley. I knew right away Carl and I were going to get along well as the trip to the stream yielded talk of all kinds of trouting. The sun came to rest as we hiked and was all but gone by the time we rigged our rods.

Taking a trout on a mouse pattern was high on my list of things to tackle in the Driftless Area and with Carl’s advice it became a reality at ~8pm. The sun was gone and I couldn’t see a thing, nothing. This is a totally different kind of fly fishing and Carl has it down to a science. Within minutes of casting I had a couple heart pounding strikes on my fly, the first couple I missed likely a result of setting the hook to early. I heard Carl’s voice just a bit away from me, he had hooked something… a freakin bat. Turning my head lamp on I could see dozens of bats skittering very close to the waters surface, apparently Carl has had this happen before. Shortly after the bat was removed I managed my first Brown on a mouse pattern. At ~12inches I could have gone home right then and there and been very pleased. A goal I’ve had for a couple years had just been completed but there was plenty of time left before the 11pm curfew and we had water to fish. For the next couple hours we would proceed to stumble through the night hearing the random rise from trout after trout.

Not knowing this water made it a bit more difficult, I didn’t have a daytime visual to referance in my brain and that made casting a bit more challenging. I got hung up a couple times and I lost a couple flies simply because I overestimated the distance I needed to cover with my cast resulting in a handful of mouse flies landed right in trees on the opposite bank. Carl put me on each spot and gave me clues as to how far I needed to cast and what obstructions were in the creek, valuable information when you can’t see a thing and turning the headlamp on would negate the opportunities we were after.

The sounds… sounds from all directions, animals, bats, the creek and rising trout. Carl had been out doing this for a while and was accustomed to tromping around in the middle of the night, this takes…balls, plain and simple. Frankly I was glad to have someone else around to get me accustomed to the idea of night fishing for trout in a secluded valley.  Each section we fished gave up trout, they just crushed the Morrish Mouse pattern I tied long ago for this exact moment. Many fish were missed, I’m convinced some of them were simply too small to get the #4 hook in their mouths, amazing the size of trout that would attempt to eat this fat offering. After each spot we would turn on the headlamps to get a better idea of where we were and what we had just fished, your depth perception goes with the light. As the night wore on and our time grew short Carl put me on a hole that had a spring feeding it from one side, shortly after I made my first cast I landed a gutty looking 14inch Brown, each cast after that produced a trout between 14 and 17inches all sporting fat bellies. I landed close to a dozen trout on a mouse pattern the first time I gave it a shot, this was primarily due to Carl’s instruction and allowing me to be the first one to fish each spot. At the stroke of 11pm we promptly made the thirty minute hike out of the valley in the pitch black. Carl, thanks for pushing me to get out this last week of the season, I can honestly say this was one of the best times I’ve had all season, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing adventure into the night. Thanks for that. For the rest of you, below are a couple general observations I gained from fishing with Carl. The potential for taking some of the largest trout in Southeast Minnesota exists with this style of fly fishing, if you can… try it, you won’t be disappointed.

General Observations:

• Cut your leader back to ~2-3ft long ending with 0x or a larger diameter mono.
• Attempt to make the loudest splash you can with your mouse pattern when you cast it.
• Pull ~3ft of line in over 3-4seconds (creating a small wake behind the pattern) then allow a pause lasting 2-3 seconds. The trout tend to hit on the pause.
• Target slower wider areas of creek that you know to hold trout, this will allow the presentation above to be more affective.
• Bring a headlamp with a Red light function, do not fish with the headlamp on under any circumstances.
• Remember that the stream in the evening is the same as during the daylight hours, there is just more activity from everything out there.

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