Winter season in Minnesota opened this morning, a friend and I proceeded to follow a ritual seen this day for the last four years. Wake, prep gear, drink coffee and drive to the spot. This spot is particular in that no matter the conditions the bugs are active and thus the fish follow suit. Some years this has worked better, some not as well but today was awesome. Windy as all hell on arrival but we found pockets of the valley void of wind and when we did get wind came in bursts allowing us to fish between gusts and see many fish come to hand. Interesting notes off the bat: the fish were very active on arrival and the fish activity tapered off around 1pm then proceeded to drop off a cliff after 2pm. Also, the creek was a bit stained, certainly not gin clear as I was expecting which perhaps benefited us. Finally, the bug activity on arrival was good, very good. My attempt with a #20 Griffiths Gnat saw many fish move for and even aggressively chase downstream leaving a wake as they came after my fly. Arrival airtemp was ~30degrees with a 26-30mph sustained wind from the WNW.

Several fish were nymphed up with a #20 Miracle nymph and a #18 Beadhead PT, those were the hot nymphs for the day and Sershen did quite well landing many right after I put all the rising fish down with a couple bad hooksets on the Griffiths Gnat. I swapped to the #20 Miracle nymph with a Hot Blue Wire rib rather than the traditional copper and it got crushed. The fish were hungry and active, so much so that fishing a no indicator rig was generally easy as they tugged line rather than slowly sipping the flies. As the morning wore on we moved to a spot that has in the past given up few fish but looks so damn good that it’s hard not to spend a short period of time with. Due to the depth and potential for larger fish I opted to try a new streamer pattern that is still in the proto-type phase and is not fully ready to be unveiled but I can tell you this much… the fish certainly enjoyed it. I’m calling this fly the “Jungle Boogie” and it’s for a couple reasons but I’ll get into that perhaps down the road a bit. All you need to know is that it brought trout after trout out from dark hiding places all the way to the surface of the creek to be smacked time and time again as I watched. I like fishing a dry fly as much as the next but watching a trout come from the depths of blackness following your fly to then open wide and hit it hard is a beautiful thing and I watched it happen several times this day. White mouth then hooked trout, brilliant.

At one point fishing the same hole we saw a double as I hooked a 15 3/4inch rainbow on the Jungle Boogie with Sershen hooking into a 16inch rainbow on his #18 PT nymph, because the net was closest to me I scooped my fish up then moved upstream ten feet to land the second trout, this was the first winter double I’ve been a part of. Shortly after this occurred I hooked another rainbow and pulled a rookie move shaking my glove off with my back to the creek only to find it floating in cold creek water. Note: always have a spare set of gloves, I’m glad I did. After landing a few more rainbows bringing the count to close to twenty apeice we decided to leave the comfort of rising rainbows and aggressive stockers for less pressured water containing browns and brookies. I continued to fish the Jungle Boogie as it was still producing trout after trout and I saw no reason to argue with its effectiveness. I managed a handful of browns that exhibited the same aggressive charge on my fly throughout the early afternoon. The last brown of the day was seen but not hooked as I made a short cast stripped my fly in and watched as a ~16+inch brown darted out from a rock that I was practically standing on to smack my fly startling me thus hampering my hookset, this was another highlight of the day. I don’t mind missing a fish when I get to see things like that.

After the couple mile hike upstream we headed back to where we started to find the wind picking up, the airtemp dropping and with it the fish activity. It doesn’t take much of a change in water temp (+/-1 degree often) to drastically alter feeding behaviour. At ~2pm the trout that had been previously so aggressive and willing to chase my streamer down were now looking and if presented properly were willing to hit it but not nearly as hard. Often it was sipped and not hit with the fervor of the earlier morning. I landed three or four more rainbows then opted to hike out, the wind was continuing to pick up and I had enjoyed the opening day of the winter season thoroughly. I saw no reason to sit in the wind struggling to force feed a handful of smaller trout. It should also be noted that the fish that were willing to strike in the afternoon were consistently smaller than the morning trout, an interesting note if you ask me. Despite the lack of snow it was a good day, very glad to be fishing the Minnesota water I love so much. To the 2012 trout season, it’s here and I plan to take full advantage of the time I have. Hope some of you got out and braved the wind to touch a trout on the 1st, I love the smell of trout stink on my hands.

Post Script: My 8’6 3wt Sage Flight was sent in on Dec. 4th, I shipped it regular mail to the factory in Oregon. After discussing my need to have the guides looked at and possibly replaced I was told upon inspection that several of my ferrules had cracks in them. Sage built me a brand new rod, cork handle, reel seat, guides and all. It was shipped overnight back to me on Friday Dec. 30th, just in time for the opener. Thank you Sage.

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Fished another Sunday in Iowa, since Liz and I ended up purchasing a year license it only made sense we would use them as much as possible while the weather holds out. Arrival time: ~12:15pm, Departure Time: ~5:30pm. Airtemp was in the low fifties, the wind was calmer out of the WSW at ~10mph. The creek was a bit off on arrival but clean enough for me to spot trout hanging on redds. Trout were sipping something small on arrival, likely midge but with the recent Baetis seen Liz opted for a #18 BWO, second cast in and she was making it look easy. We hung around attempting to take a couple more on a dry fly before moving upstream but nothing was having the larger flies. I switched flies up a couple times, took a couple small Browns on a #18 Bead Head Baetis nymph I tied up for situations like this. The creek, full of weeds, full of spooky trout who bolt for cover when they see a larger or heavier nymph hit the surface are sometimes best presented something very small despite the difficulty detecting a strike. I lost three or four easily to late hooksets. I also fished the “safety” of the #16 Pink Squirrel for a while and took a handful of fish ranging from 10-13inches. Something about the fact that the trout just can’t help but hit that thing makes me want to fish it less, like it’s laced with some kind of trout chum they can smell from a mile away.

Upstream scoping the riffles I watched one trout rise, then another and another. Shortly after a #18 BWO flew past, I dropped the nymph instantly and swapped to the #18 BWO pattern again. I watched the riffle for another ten minutes, four different trout in four locations rose but they didn’t lite up the way I was hoping they would. There would be no major BWO hatch for us. Thinking I could pull a couple out I made close to two dozen casts with only one botched hookset on a 6inch Brown to show for it. We moved upstream and I looked at my flies and put on one of a couple dozen newly tied #8 Sprinkle Me Baby’s. Something about fishing this fly, I have so much confidence in it and my ability to fish it well that it just made sense. Trust Your Gut.

Working the later portion of the afternoon I was roll casting to deeper faster water, swapping a split shot for none and back again, working the weed lines and the dark spaces between them, the BNT were coming to hand quickly. I managed over a dozen in the first hour with a few misses between. They smack this fly so damn fast sometimes it’s hard to set the hook and make it stick. We got upstream to find a couple nasty deep looking pools, faster current feeding the far side. My gut… my gut was telling me to hit each with a down and across approach letting my fly sink then rise at a steady rate as the line tightened up. The second pool gave up the reason why I trust my gut, a nice 18inch Brown. He hit deep and I didn’t know what I was in for until he gave me a big flying leap from below, this was the Iowa Brown I’d been looking for these last few trips.

Upstream all of a hundred yards and I see one of the biggest, gnarliest beaver dam’s I’ve come across in my Driftless career. Standing close to five feet tall just pouring trout water from a weak portion in the center. We hiked upstream and spied dark deep trout water but few fish. I was concerned that their might not be much around but if there was something it might make the last fish look puny. I dropped a couple bombs in the creek but saw nary a flash, my gut was telling me to move on. A guy can spend all day casting into the darkness and get nowhere, I’m guilty of it from time to time but the day was growing short and with it the light so we moved on. Out of the beaver dam and into one of the sexiest pieces of trout water I’ve seen in Iowa. I was concerned that after the beaver dam it would be kaput, pitiful creek, I was dead wrong. I tossed a fly down under a boulder offering some excellent habitat for any trout and landed two smaller browns that proved there were fish above the beaver dam. This was motivation to keep going, Liz was doing her own thing, figuring her cast out and working a streamer, I was content to dissect the creek for the spots I knew would hold fish.

I got to a riffle with a bunch of overhanging branches, took one look and knew there had to be something tasty laying in wait. The first cast was too far up the riffle and got stuck on a rock, my fly came back covered in creek sludge. After a quick clean up I made a second attempt and planted my fly on the smallest of the overhanging branches, the sun was going down and I didn’t see it until it was too late. Something was on my side, my SMB popped off the branch instantly. My gut said one more… it was right again. By now I’m thinking, damn I should be telling Liz where to put her fly but I didn’t want to stand over her shoulder being overbearing. I landed the brown and sent him back to the creek with just enough daylight to work upstream another couple hundred feet. The sun was gone, the sky was lighting up with pink and orange colors. I saw one last spot that just screamed for a fly, first cast and a fat, I mean gutty fat holdover Rainbow came out. The picture doesn’t do the gut justice but damn I was taken back a bit. By this point the ground was looking black, I left the headlamp somewhere not in my gear and we were forced to hike over a mile back as the very last of the light left us.

Additional Notes:

• Watched a Bald Eagle fly overhead at less than a hundred yards.
• Observed a noticeable change in the creek vegetation above and below the beaver dam.
• Spent fifteen minutes chasing down an evening Caddisfly.
• Watched over a dozen deer silouetted by the sky chase through a herd of cattle down a bluff side.

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Another Sunday run south of the border. Crappy weather, my girl handled it very well. Windy, rainy, cold, the 1.5hrs of sunlight was welcome but left us for more clouds and rain in the later afternoon. Fished from ~12noon till ~6pm, first creek was a new spot. It was beaver town, slow backed up water that looked so damn good but held few fish and those that were seen were closer to 6inches rather than 16. Second creek was a bit turbid from cattle activity, the trout were in full spawn, redds everywhere. I watched a couple brown’s spawn for ~30minutes while Liz was working a group of trout upstream. Very cool to watch them so vulnerable up in the riffles, half exposed in some cases. I watched and took note of a brookie that swam up a riffle to root up a bed of cobble with which to lay her eggs in, sweet. Liz is coming along well, she has spent more time fly fishing than I have but that time was spent years ago when she would fish with her father, she is quickly falling back into the swing of things. Rounded out the day watching her take over a half dozen RBT and BNT roll casting a lightly weighted #12 Black Hairball (no indicator) on a long stretch of slow moving water that would give any fly angler a difficult time.

Other Notables:

• Viewed the Upper Iowa River from a most excellent perch.
• Brook, Brown and Rainbow trout slim covered my hands by the day’s end.
• Watched Liz crush a brown working a #18 BWO Dry fly.
• Liz fished nymphs without the aid of an Indicator and did very well.
• Many more Brook trout caught this day.
• #18-20 BWO’s seen hatching in small quantities at ~2:30pm.
• Liz had a BNT Dogger on the line but got off before it could be landed.

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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.

Slide Show

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.

Slide Show

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.

Slide Show

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.

Slide Show

Fished a creek with Sershen yesterday, we’ve been able to get out a handful of times lately and it’s been good. I’ve advocated creek dueling with a friend before. I dig talking trout, tactics and everything else while fishing with a good friend. Everyone has that person who matches their style well and things just work, simple. Simple is good. Once onstream we hit the creek hard and hiked close to a mile downstream without stopping or checking the creek out much. We moved far from the banks and took in the forest around us. Cooler air temps have created excellent afternoon fishing this August with hoppers hopping and BWO’s popping.

I fished a #8 Yellow Hopper first hoping that the pasture we found ourselves in had seen its share of these creatures and the fish would readily rise for a big meal opportunity. My instincts were right on, shortly after dressing my fly to ride high I was into wild brown trout. We fished a larger creek offering with it the opportunity to spend an afternoon in knee deep water tossing flies, I typically avoid standing in the creek but if done properly one can take quite a few fish from a single run even standing next to your prey. A bruiser took a swipe at my fly as I drifted it through a small piece of pocket water, it came riding by quickly and I think he simply missed the mark. I enjoyed seeing his backside flashing me before he dove for the depths.

We took a handful of trout with Hoppers and Stimulators as we worked the pasture up, splitting runs apart back and forth was common place, we also randomly drifted apart at times to get entire riffle/run/pool sections alone. The depth of the water was pushing me to see what a streamer might produce but the lure of the rise had me and it took a while to put the SMB on. Eventually working through a forested section I switched flies and roll casted my streamer to the opposite bank as we moved upstream. A handful of BWO’s ranging from #18-22 were seen and netted in my hat but few fish were surfacing. Working a deep hole a couple brookies chose to give up a picture with the Sprinkle Me Baby, I love catching brookies and I love seeing it go down even more. I watched as my fly drifted deeper and deeper until a white mouth opened wide and with that a tight line.

We pushed on but the setting sun forced us off the creek and to water closer to home before the day would be done. The first stop gave up a brown and two rainbows in ten minutes while a swarm of mosquitoes took their toll on exposed flesh. These super skeeters cut through shirts, pants and even my buff. Normally bugs don’t bother me but this was the exception. Ten minutes was all I could handle and we were off to the last spot of the evening. On location we peered through the weeds to see a scant few stocker rainbows, my dinner stop. I knew a few were around and with previous experience at this spot I slapped on a #8 Hairball and a single splitshot. A nice roll cast to sink the fly as close to the weed line as possible follwed by a short dead drift into a swing resulted in a handful of rainbows for dinner. Bows take the Hairball all day long. I found a smaller 8inch fish that took my fly as I dapped it on its face to get hooked and off only to get right back in line for another round with the Hairball. I figured this fish would only give it up twice but a decent drift with a twitch at the end put him right back on my Hairball for a third and final time. With dinner in one hand, my rod in the other and the sun setting behind me we took off for home. Brown, Brook and Rainbow, damn Southeast Minnesota has been good to me.

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