I had been getting the itch to fish all week and by Wednesday it had become too much, some vacation time was requested and with that I put together a plan that would have seen me hiking into a remote area I’ve never seen. Plans change, even the best laid plans. The original plan saw myself and Carl hiking deep into a stretch of winter water, it involved lunch creekside, I opted for the typical hotdogs, Carl was unimpressed. Steaks, the guy brought STEAKS! and we cooked them over a fire the same way I would have the hotdogs. The steaks were awesome, I might even go so as far as to say that those steaks were the best meat I’ve ever cooked over a fire with a stick. I’m getting ahead of myself, I guess I am still thinking about that slab of meat dripping onto the snow as I bit chunks off of it while it was dangling from a two pronged stick carved moments before flesh met flame. Damn it was good.

The morning commute took a bit longer than expected, the plan was to be at the creek early around 8:30 or s0, turns out due to a slow start on my part and witnessing a multiple vehicle car accident on the way and in my coverage area (I’m on two volunteer fire/rescue departments and currently working to advance in my medical career) I stopped, donned turnout gear and did what I could while my friends and fellow members were on the way. That’s a whole other story but helps explain why we were more than an hour and a half late getting to the creek. Slower safe driving put us creekside staring into a slightly raging creek that was brown, not Wonka chocolate river brown but enough that it was discouraging. We opted to continue anyway, we had already driven the distance and gone through a multiple vehicle accident to get here. An attempt was made but after an hour of fishing and hiking it became obvious that our efforts were to be wasted if we continued.

This is when it’s always a good idea to have Plan B ready. I must be off my game; Plan B didn’t enter my mind even in the slightest. I wasn’t taking into account the several days prior and all the warm weather, wet snow combined with a long watershed. The combination made for a river that was up but in fact receding, the high water line was a good couple feet up from the level we found it at. You’re never too old or wise to be humbled, a good plan was crushed. Sitting on the banks we had to devise Plan B on the spot. If this water was blown what was fishable? I didn’t just drive this far to turn tail. Two choices came to mind and we opted for the closer of the two, the clouds that began the morning were dissipating quickly and soon the sun would be shining.

At Plan B we got to work, I fished a new smaller mini streamer I’ve been working on recently. It pulled a 10inch brown out quickly but wasn’t the best choice for this much smaller lower/clear creek. I chose to stick it next to tree limbs and any dark hole I could find, I missed a few others over the course of the first few hours. By 12:30 or so a decent number of larger #18/20 midges were around and a pretty good number of little black stoneflies could be seen crawling away from the water. Bugs were out, the sky was turning blue and the sun was now out in its full glory. Rising hadn’t begun and rather than continue up we opted to make those delicious steaks I mentioned earlier. We sat, cooked our lunch and watched waiting for a rise, it didn’t happen. We continued upstream, just kept going looking for spots to put a nymph or small streamer waiting for the opportunity to put on a #20 Griffiths Gnat.

Around a few bends and through the thick forest we came upon maybe the best part of the day, save the slab of meat that has me still drooling, the pod of fish with a few strong risers. The approach was a good 8-9 on the difficulty scale, trees everywhere, low clear water. It wasn’t going to be easy. Carl gave it a shot from behind a downed tree, it didn’t happen. I opted to belly crawl through the snow and cast from a laying position, my second or third cast saw a small trout bolt for my fly but I bungled the hookset. It was lost, the trout came back and began rising again but they wouldn’t have a dry fly of ours. I put on a #20 Miracle nymph and pulled two out easily and missed atleast two others. Sight fishing, seeing the fish turn and estimating your flies location with relation to the trout’s mouth…that’s driftless.

We sat on that spot for quite a while and afterwards moved upstream looking for other risers to fish to, none were found. The day had worn on and after close to two miles one direction it was time to turn back. It was a damn fine day to be a trout fisherman in S.E. Minnesota, sun on my shoulders most of the time I was out, low wind, beautiful scenery, this is what the winter season is all about for me. Thanks to Carl for coming on another trip and bringing the meat.

Arrival time ~9am. Airtemp in the upper 20′s. With frost on the ground Carl and I began the morning hike downstream passing up over two miles of creek. I didn’t bother to stop once to look, the goal was to get to the starting point, a remote area that requires a serious hike from either direction to get to. This translates to a place where few frequent, the trout haven’t been pressured and the area is left untouched (for the most part). Places like this, far from roads, houses, people…they are rare and should be treasured. As we hiked downstream avoiding the temptation to glance at the water we were to see as our day progressed, the morning sun came out taking with it the frost and my need for an overcoat. January and I’m hiking the creek in a fleece because my traditional winter gear is simply too much for the almost 30degree airtemp at ~9am.

Once downstream I gazed upon large water with darting shadows, the shadows of trout, white suckers and the rosey cheeked creek chub. Due to the large water and not having fished this creek before I opted to swing a streamer. I fish a streamer in situations like this if the trout respond, my third roll cast saw a smaller brown chase the streamer almost to my feet, a good sign that my SMB would take fish this day. A couple casts later I had the first brown of the day on the line only to have it shake my barbless hook at the last moment. Minutes into the day of fishing and I knew my choice of fly was going to pay off. I’m not suggesting that nymphs wouldn’t have worked but given the size of the creek and not knowing the depth or location of the trout fishing a streamer was going to be the best choice for me. Upstream a bit I spied from the bank a larger shadow, clear blue water with big cover boulders piqued my interest. I opted to sit on it a bit, adding a splitshot and working my roll cast out a good forty feet I let my fly dead drift until my line came to a halt. I missed one but with the next pass my line went taught, a bit of a run and a fat splash showed a nicer 18 and a half inch brown trout, a Dogger. What a way to start the morning, second trout to hand pushing 19inches.

After releasing the larger fish I sat on that spot for quite a while repeating the same process landing two more and missing more than that. The slow lethargic strike was difficult to detect but the fish were eating the streamer and so it continued to be my fly of choice. My fishing partner Carl fished upstream from me and was doing quite well with his streamer choice, we continued to work the creek up enjoying the beautiful conditions. Further upstream the wind began to pick up a bit but not enough to make me put my coat on, we sat and watched for any rising trout. A few scattered midge were spotted hovering over the creek but by 11am we’d only seen a couple trout surface. I kept the streamer on for the next hour, by 12pm we came upon a run/pool system showing regularly rising trout. We crept up low and sat in the brush watching the trout and the midge, we swapped our large streamers for longer leaders and #20 flies. The wind made things difficult, as did the clear low water but Carl’s approach resulted in a fooled brown. I tried for another further upstream but was unsuccessful, even an attempt with a #20 Miracle Nymph was fruitless. Although a handful of fish were rising regularly they were hesitant and I opted to move upstream and put my streamer back on.

The beautiful day was made as fish chased down my streamer, a handful more came to hand and many were missed. No ice in the guides and sun on my shoulders, I can’t stress enough how wonderful these places are and the excellent weather was the icing on the cake. The rest of the day was much the same, following the winding creek upstream we ended up where we started the morning, fished out by 3:30 or so I was content to call the day successful and every bit as satisfying as any other day in the peace of the Driftless Area. Good to take full advantage of good airtemps and low wind in January, it can’t last forever.

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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.

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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The cooler air temp and lower humidity has made it a bit more manageable to get out during peak hopper hours. Heath and I have been fishing together since I began fishing for trout just over three years ago, he has been a sounding board for ideas and tactics, when we fish together we often stick close to one another and analyze flies, locations and presentations. The stream we fished was running gin clear and as we hiked downstream the five foot tall grass gave up the awe that is the plague. Hoppers, thousands in all colors and sizes, so many it bordered on the ridiculous if not the absurd. Rigged and ready we split up for a couple minutes, me with my Brown/Tan #10 Foam Hopper and Heath with what looked to be a #16 EHC. I took one on the second cast, a plop gave way to an aggressive strike from a 13inch brown. I fished back up to Heath and watched as his small EHC took a smaller Brookie, somewhere along the way Heath swapped to a hopper of his own and we progressed upstream. A short time later I heard something to the effect of “this is my first fish on a hopper.” Whaaaa?? A bit of floatant and a couple minutes later he fooled another, then another and another.

The rest of the afternoon was about as enjoyable a time I’ve had fishing since spring, taking turns casting big dry flies and enjoying the takes, splashy rises and sometimes awesome refusals. I eventually swapped to a #6 Brown/Yellow Foam Hopper simply because I was curious if the larger offering would produce larger trout. It produced one very nice fish that was improperly hooked and thus not landed, it also produced many, many taps and tugs from smaller fish. They were hitting the larger food item despite the fact they couldn’t fit it into their mouths, almost comical. Heath scored a rather nice looking brook trout to take the fish of the day and despite the fact that we had more time to fish we opted to head home. The heat was bearing down on us as a bit of cloud cover broke and we had gotten everything we came for. Fish the Driftless Area, Fish it Hard.

Post Note: A quick observation. How does a hopper end up in the creek? I figure one of three main ways, 1st the wind. 2nd, a disturbance in the grass like you or me… or cattle. Third, the random poor decision. I feel the first two are far more likely. So then it leads me to question: If cattle have recently come through and perhaps “primed” the creek by causing a handful of hoppers to become lunch will you have more luck as an angler because the fish have just had a consequence free meal? Or saw more hoppers in the creek in a shorter amount of time? Thinking out loud here.

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Stopped just for twenty or so minutes to fish a spot I’ve spied a George hanging out in. George is code for freakin’ big brown trout, the kind that break tippet and leave you speechless standing on the bank holding a limp line. The first cast hooked this guy. I enjoyed the smaller fight he put up then promptly sent him swimming so I could concentrate on finding my larger target. I knew the section I’d seen him at last time but saw no signs until a forty foot cast put my fly just upstream of a tree covering a portion of the creek. I let it sink to get under the branches then began stripping my fly back out when I saw the shape, big, dark and moving fast. He didn’t strike and instead gave me just enough to keep me coming back, the big ones tend to either hit it or quit it. I tossed my fly for another couple minutes hoping he would change his mind but no luck. Next time…

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Fished for three hours from ~1pm to ~4pm, hatching Caddis were beginning to show on arrival and continued to swell reaching a peak at ~3pm. Fish were caught on a #18 and #20 EHC with a Greyish Wing and Black/Grey Body. I fished a pupa trailer for the 1st half hour or so and picked up a handful but dropped it after the trout really began concentrating on surface adults. I lost count of how many trout were caught after 25 but it was substantially more than that, fairly easy pickings with a dead drifted EHC. The “wave” phenomenon that I had documented previously this season occurred again with long lulls and no rising, when the trout began rising again they would swell to a boil then drop off abruptly. The rising sections seemed to decrease in duration as the afternoon wore on with the length of the lulls getting progressively longer. There also seemed to be a relationship between the wind and rising, the windier it got the fewer fish rose, likely because the caddis just weren’t hovering over the stream during the wind gusts. I attempted various presentations and was surprised how many fish would take a sunk EHC stripped in like a streamer (very interesting). I attempted skittering for a while but found a dead drift producing more successful rises. I fished a single spot and didn’t move more than fifty feet but suffered a bit due to my choice of casting location, my belief is that when dead drifting a fly that is supposed to riding high any amount of drag can turn fish off, especially when they have so many perfectly safe choices swarming around. Due to my casting location I was crossing a couple currents leaving my “dead” drift a fairly short time frame before any drag would set in even when mending. I did fish a couple #18 and #20 EHC Puffs when the going got tough and I wanted something that would ride high but as with most things CDC after the first good dunking it lost some of its effectiveness. The afternoon ended with a fair amount of observation and camera work. Honestly I’m not thrilled with most of these photos the sun seemed to be working against me and I was trying different settings on my camera. Note the darker appearance of some of the caddis.

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A while back I was asked to submit any photos I had fitting the description of an angler with a “tight line” to the DNR Area Fisheries Office for a potential cover to the 2011 Trout Angling Opportunities Brochure for Southern and Central Minnesota. I thought about it for a bit and looked through a few options but nothing was jumping out at me, then it hit me. I can recall the April day clearly, we arrived earlier and happened upon an excellent caddis hatch that provided many “tight lines” and with it the opportunity for some good photos of which many were taken. I have to thank Wendy B. for a memorable day catching so many fish that I was able to get several of these shots easily. These brochures will be finding their way to places anglers frequent soon, this years edition contains new and updated easements on quite a few area streams as well as central state maps that were previously not included with the southern maps. Thanks also to the staff at the Lanesboro Area Fisheries office for considering and ultimately choosing to use this photo to represent trout angling in S.E. Minnesota, for me this is very cool. These books belong in your vehicle and should be a reference to ensure anglers are confident of the easement locations and regulations for various area streams. The DNR does a great job laying the streams and regulation information out in an easy to understand way for anglers of all ages. Now, time to find a new place to fish. There are so many of them…get out there.