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All posts for the month May, 2012

Strange Day

Posted by thosnut on May 24, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 7 comments

I headed out this morning to a local free stone stream which has trout, but they are very migratory depending on water levels and temperature. I wasn’t going after a lot of trout, but I was targeting big ones. The water levels are lower right now, so I thought I would hit some of the big holes. The drive to this the river was about five and half miles, so it didn’t take long to arrive.

I put on all my gear and began my hike in a long the railroad tracks to the first hole. I was hoping for stoneflies today, but if they weren’t on the rocks yet, I would try something different. I was deep in thought preparing what I was going to set up as I hiked when a female turkey went crazy and started running in a circle around me. I just kept hiking because I figured the hen was trying to protect a nest. A nest next to the railroad tracks wasn’t the best idea for the bird.

In the first hole, I missed several takes. The stonefly shucks were still not to be seen, so I used the killer bug. On one strike, I went to set the hook and the second last section of my Yamame rod snapped. I wasn’t worried about the rod. I figured it was under warranty or the replacement parts are cheap, so I hiked back to the car past the turkey and got my 12’ Iwana.

I hiked back down the railroad tracks, but not quite as far. A little turkey head was just over the plants and watching me pass. I reached hole number two and setup my Iwana. I hooked plenty of shiners and creek chubs on the back swing with a killer bug fished in the deep hole.

After a few minutes, I hooked what I was after. It made the 16” fish that I caught the day before seem small. The pool was big and that gave him plenty of room to swim, and it gave me the room that I needed with my 12’ Iwana. My plan was to work him until he was good and tired and then bring to the shallows and net him. He swam and turned and would not come up. I just held on with both hands and did my best. He was well hooked and I knew he was mine.

He was tired and near the surface. I started working him back towards me in the shallows. He was HUGE and I was so excited. It was hard to move the net and control the fish at the same time. I was fumbling and trying hard, but I could not net him. Even in the six inch water, he was still strong enough to fight me at every attempt. I almost netted him twice and he got behind me. There in the shallow water were three rocks and he wound me and broke me off. That excitement left my hands shaking for several minutes. There were no more fish taking a fly in that hole, so I moved on.

On the way to hole number three, a doe walked into the creek right in front of me with her fawn. It took a second for them to notice me and then all hell broke out as they crashed through the water and broke trees trying to get away from me. Hole number three held only creek chubs and shiners. One creek chub’s head was all covered with horn like bumps. The males do this when its time to breed. They also build large piles of rocks for their little size.

Hole number four held its own strangeness. I hooked a trout, but it got off by quickly jumping in the air. Not long after, I hooked a similar fish that got off by quickly jumping straight in the air. I would not land a trout today. After a few shiners, I had a big hit and the fish ran. It darted back and forth in the back end of the pool, and it did not feel like a trout. After I got it under control, I was able to net it and see that it was a northern pike. I had seen a huge one down river about 10 years ago, but that was where the river was dammed near town. I unhooked my killer bug from his lip and took his picture. Then I let him slip into the water. A minute later I hooked another northern in the same spot, but this one was able to get off. I think like the trout it was the same fish twice.

That concluded my strange day. It had high points and low points, total quiet and total noise, and even destruction.

I called Tenkara USA and they are sending me a new segment for free.

Farm Land

Posted by thosnut on May 23, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , . 2 comments

The wind was still and the sun was shining, so it was a good day to put on my waders and try to catch some fish.

I went to a stretch of water that is very open and flows through a farm. This section offers some nice sized fish, but it sees a great deal of anglers. Because it’s open, the fish tend to scare easy.

Steps over the electric fence

There are many cows at this farm, but good land use keeps plenty of buffer space for fisherman and cows. A bridge goes over the creek and the cows cross and yell at you if you are below the bridge. An electric fence keeps the cows well away from the stream. Fisherman can easily get over the electric fence by using two small step platforms that take you up and over the charged wires.

Sand hill crane

As I fished a sand hill crane was upset with me and made plenty of noise. Not long after his chanting began, two more sand hills dove out of the sky and joined his chant. They wandered off and left me to fish with no more fuss.

I found little activity on the water in the way of insects. Occasionally a small crane fly would appear on the water, but I had little success fishing a similar pattern. After effectively fishing the killer bug for several trout, the fish began to be more aggressive just below the surface. I used a sakasa kebari fly and hit all the spots where fish should be.  It became very productive for my remaining time.

The largest of the day was a 16” brown and it was a good match for my 12’ Iwana. The fish shook and shook trying to free itself from my barbless sakasa kebari fly, but everything held and I was able to net him.

As my morning wound down, I decided that I needed to head home. I had caught 15 trout and missed several more. The walk back to the car was beautiful and I was happy and felt luck to have such a great place near to where I live.

Trying To Rise

Posted by thosnut on May 21, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . 2 comments

Brown water and brown trout

After my last trip, I fell ill to many things, and I was sick for eight days. Those eight days were the first perfect weather, but for me, it involved two doctor visits, not being able to sleep, coughing up unworldly things, losing my voice, getting pink eye, having an ear infection, and also have a virus like no other virus that I had before.

Today I ventured out of my bubble, but I am still not quite myself. The river was muddy from downpours the night before, and my mind felt the same. It was good to be out and have the sun shining on my face.  Everything was very green and many birds were singing many different songs.

At the end of my short hike, I used a hitch knot to add my line to my Iwana rod and extended the rod out. I tied on a killer bug and added a small indicator. Because of the brown water, I wouldn’t be seeing fish today, and maybe I wouldn’t even catch any.

My muscles and mind went through the memory of casting and I started out. Within a few casts, I was able to catch a small brown trout, and this was pleasing. I fished slow and not too hard. The important thing was that I was out and free in the world again. I had never been that sick in my life, and I hoped never to be again.

It wasn’t the most productive fishing trip, but it was start. I had landed five trout. Three were smaller, and two were in the normal 10-11” range, but it was enough. Two hours after I began , I drove home thinking that I must finally be getting healthy.

Wanting To Go Home

Posted by thosnut on May 12, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . 3 comments

It was a rushed week and I was sick of rushing. It had been to many weeks since I had fished my home river. The plan was to wake up early no matter what and get a stretch on the river before everyone showed up. At 4:30, I rolled out of bed with a sore throat. I was moving slowly. I ate some food with a quick check of email. My body wasn’t quite right, but that wasn’t going to stop me from fishing. I got dressed and put on my waders.

It wasn’t the nice sunny day we had the day before, but it was warm enough. With overcast skies, I parked the car and geared up. I was going to hike in far from any parking spots, so I could have plenty of this small spring creek to myself. I lazily cut my own path through the brush in the new light as most of the paths were overgrown.

About halfway to where I would start, I sensed something. I stopped and looked six feet ahead. Frozen in my path with its body sideways to me was a furry statue. The groggy opossum didn’t make a sound. If I would have kept going, I would have walked right into him. I back stepped a few feet, thinking this isn’t the healthiest creature to run into. He climbed a young tree to about my height and couldn’t go up anymore. I was fumbling to decide what to do. I tried to pull out my camera and he tried to go up, but fell out of the tree. He wandered into some thicker brush, and I was happy to see him go even though I didn’t get a picture.

I ran across another fisherman and we talked for a short time. I told him to look out for the grumpy opossum. Reaching my point of entry, I was surprised to see how muddy the water was, but I decided to use it to my advantage and it worked. I tied on my own variety of the killer bug in size 14. I was happy to be out on my river, and I didn’t notice the changes my body was going through.

I worked every area over for this small creek and I kept my eyes and ears open for rises or bugs. Wild trout were everywhere and they were hungry. In a few hours, I had caught 20 fish, and most were greater than 10 inches. I finally saw a caddis fly bouncing above the creek, but no rises. I gave a caddis pattern many tries in all the right spots, but it was the killer bug that owned the day. Around 25 trout, I started to feel super tired and my throat ached like Darth Vader had a hold on it.

I told myself that at 30 fish, I would quit and head home. It was then that the pull of home was starting to take over. I was starting to slump through the water. I was missing many strikes. The next four fish broke me, and that is when the trout started rising. I was spent. Home…Home…I  had caught number 30 and was going to pack it up and then a larger fish rose right in front of me. I cast to it and on the second cast he took my caddis. I released the fish and headed home.

At home, I hit the bed after finding out I had a fever and twitched and moaned my way into a slight nap. After tossing and turning for so long, I gave up and wrote this.

I needed to fish and I think I got that out of my system with 31 trout, but I’m paying for it now. Back to bed…

Double Plaid- a fisherman’s love story

Posted by thosnut on May 9, 2012
Posted in: Life. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , . 8 comments

Laying out my clothes for tomorrow

Have you ever worn an outfit that was made up of conflicting colors or patterns? Are there too many things in life that we try to keep in check?

When I first started fly fishing in the early nineties, I would make at least one trip a year to the Wolf River in Langlade County, Wisconsin. This is a large freestone river well used by kayaks and rafters and fly fishers. It runs through the Nicolet national forest and it has that strong feel of a wilderness river with plenty of solitude. The Wolf River was the first place that I experienced a huge blanket hatch. The dark evening sky was filled with millions of bugs, but none of them cared at all about me. They were there to reproduce.

Next to this wild river there lived a man. He had adapted his living room into his fly shop. The sliding deck door became his shop’s entrance. His bar had become his sales counter. What I remember most about this man was his great attitude and that he always seemed to be wearing double plaid. He always said that we could fish the river next to his house and he always loved to talk. His spirit was infectious, and his happiness was brighter than the sun.

This man passed away several years ago. I remember returning to his shop/ house and finding out of his passing. The world needed more people like him, so it was sad to me that he was gone.

My fishing friend and I always joked that we wanted to be someplace like that in our lives someday, and I spread this word to my future wife and others who would listen. Someday maybe, I would wear double plaid too.

At the time I lived in the heart of Milwaukee among all the chaos of a big city. Friends getting jumped and robbed. People passing away in their little apartments, but no one knowing for weeks. Sirens, car alarms, and just crazy stuff happening everywhere. Peace and double plaid sounded warm and inviting to my soul.

It’s been several years since I’ve visited the Wolf River, but I’m sure if I went, I would think of him. I’m not quite there in my life yet, but I do live in a more peaceful town where people say hi and mean it. I have great love for life, family, nature, kids, bugs, water…the list could go on and on. Double plaid is a state of mind to me, and it’s worth working toward. Peace can be in the future, but I think it can be now too. My nine-year-old daughter still wears conflicting outfits sometimes, and sometimes I just let her do it.

Digging through old notebooks I found this poem that I wrote for my wife when both of us worked and our kids were much younger.

If we had time,
And no distractions,
We’d be snuggling.

We’d be wrapped up
In each other-
Like a warm bed.

Oh we have love,
And life,
And new life.

You and me.
Me and you.

Double plaid
And redundant walks
And smelling hair too.

All I can still say
Is from deep inside 
I love you.

Fishing Small

Posted by thosnut on May 7, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , . 4 comments

Today was the first day that it didn’t rain and most of the rivers and streams just needed to work through all that extra water. It was a school day, so I got up at my normal time and made breakfast for the kids and packed their backpacks for school. After getting everyone to school, I went to a local pool and swam laps.

When I’m swimming the world disappears and I can think much clearer. As I swam back and forth in the pool, I tried to reason out a good place to try fishing.  I concluded that I would only have success if it was near springs or head waters, so I decided to try a spring pond.

An overgrown spring pond

I drove about 20 minutes to a park that is hidden in the middle of farm country. This park has many hiking trails and a little spring pond. I navigated the only road in the park and parked my car. I knew if I was to have any chance, I would need the right gear and lots of stealth. As I found the tiny creek that exits the pond, I saw how nature had reclaimed this wild spot.

Trees and bushes now owned the pond- reaching over it from all sides. I headed to the spot where I once had caught the blackest brook trout. It too was reclaimed. Peering down into the water, I could make out one tiny spring where the sand was slightly bubbling through the black bottom. It had been at this spring that I had caught that fish- maybe 10 years ago. I slowly put together my nine foot modified Iwana Tenkara rod. I sat and watched over the spring for any movement, but there was none.

All my casts were feeble attempts. Most the time I was able to cast my line out, but the trees and bushes wanted to take my rod and line. After a while, I admitted defeat and moved on to the tiny exiting creek.

In the creek, I did see little black fish, but most were less than two inches in size. If I was going to have a chance today, I would need to go somewhere else. The fish may be here, but everything was too well protected, so I drove 25 minutes to another stream that was slightly larger.

As I drove up to the only parking spot, two men were packing up their fishing gear to head out. Both agreed that they had fished it pretty hard and were calling it quits. One of the men with a fly rod said that he had caught several trout, but he had let them all go.  This didn’t bode well for me, but I was determined to try anyway.

This little creek is always full of watercress, and it is so clear that you have to crawl on your knees to have any success. Most of the creek is unfishable, but there are a few stretches where there is some room to cast. I’m sure the two men had worked those areas well, but after sick kids and downpours over the weekend, I was determined to do some fishing.

The sky was overcast and it was starting to lightly rain, but I continued to get my rod in order. With all that watercress, I was going to try a scud unless I saw some blue-winged olives or some midge flies. With nothing happening but the drips of rain and a gobble from turkeys, I tied a size 16 scud to my 7x tippet.

I worked both my knees and that little stream hard. I fished a long stretch with no luck, and then the stream got tight and narrow. It was deep, but the stream was maybe 20” wide with grass and branches near its edge. I would maybe get one cast or two if I didn’t hit the water on the first one.

I worked my fly in the air and then cast it forward. About two seconds after hitting the water, a dark shape moved in and attacked the scud. Fish on! Luckily the fish turned and headed downstream toward me where it widened. He was well hooked and it was a nice struggle. Once in my net, I saw what a true trophy he was, and then I let him go.

The first trout

About 20 yards upstream I saw another fish holding in the current. I stayed tucked under the grass, and I cast ahead of him. The trout changed directions toward my fly and hammered it. I had to enter the creek to net this fish, for he was unwavering in his fight. After safely netting him and unhooking my fly, he too was returned to the water.

The second trout

I continued working tight spots and any hole where I had a chance, but I spooked many fish before I could cast to them. My fishing day was almost at its end. Soon I would need to start my bus service by picking my kids up from school, but I still held out hope for one more fish.

I started walking- both exploring and observing. There were lots of tiny holes, but again the fish spooked before anything could be done. Up ahead there was one more spot before the stream turned unfishable from trees and bushes. I got down on my 42-year-old tired knees, and worked my way up slowly for one last chance. As I got closer, I could see the current had dug out a deep hole here. I prepared to cast- hoping for that one last fish, and I was not denied.

A brook trout

Almost the second my fly hit the water, a fish came from out of nowhere and struck it. It was a BROOK TROUT! He turned and swam with my little fly straight down, but I countered his every move until he was safely in my net.

I didn’t have much hope for any fish today with all the high water, but for me to catch a brook trout is hope in itself. I have searched and fished many places to find one. I have caught well over 200 fish this year in the early season, but this was only my second brook trout. What a nice way to start the regular fishing season.

Opening Day is Here

Posted by thosnut on May 5, 2012
Posted in: Life. Tagged: , , , , , . 3 comments

Dreaming of trout

Last night, I filled my car with gear, made sure my phone and camera had juice, and laid out my clothes, so I would not disturb anyone when I got up to leave this morning. The trout season officially opened this morning at 5 am. I could have gotten up earlier, but I set my alarm for 5 am. As a parent, I have learned to fully appreciate a good night’s sleep.

All night I dreamt of rivers and flies and fish. I guess you could say the hype was there. Around 3 am I could hear the rain, and I wasn’t too excited about it. After raining the past few days and one day of only a little rain, I thought the rivers would be low enough to fish. This 3 am rain was light, so I pushed it aside in my head and shifted position in bed and tried to sleep some more. At 4 am, the pounding rain woke me again from my dreams. This time I went to the living room window to view the damage.

Outside, a river flowed down the street in front of our house. I could see the large pelts of the big heavy rain hitting the ground with my puffy eyes. Maybe if I just slept beyond 5 am, I could find some place not effected by the rain, so I went back to bed. I shifted my pillows and my body making the perfect little place to fall back to sleep, and surprisingly I did sleep.

At about 4:30 am, my daughter came into our room, and that almost never happens. She mumbled something about not feeling well, and my wife took her to the bathroom. Not long after a resonating in-human sound bellowed from that area. Yep, she was sick. It continued to rain and later my daughter got sick again.

I could have gotten upset, but I have learned this is an important part of my life. In the morning my son would need picking up from his sleepover, so I knew where I should be. I needed to be with family.

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans,” a quote by John Lennon.

The hype has passed, and I know that I will get out fishing sometime soon. Life does happen and it’s good to have something to dream about like trout, and fishing, and maybe even family.

A Few More Days

Posted by thosnut on May 3, 2012
Posted in: Trout. Tagged: , , , , , , . 7 comments

Because the inland trout season is closed, I went for a hike today. Bad rain and thunderstorms rolled through all night, but that didn’t stop me from getting out. With my camera and rain gear, I headed out.

I went to a spot near the Ice Age Trail where I knew there was a spring pond. I had read online that over 500 brook trout were planted earlier this year, so I wanted to see it. I’m not one to pursue the planted fish, but I needed to get outdoors.

Even with it overcast, little blue winged olives were coming off the pond. The planted fish were doing acrobatics in the air to get the emerging flies. It was fun to watch, but it had that “look but don’t touch” feel to it because I couldn’t break out my rod.

The thunder kept cracking in the distance, but for my hike the rain did not fall. The deep spring pond was an aqua blue even with all the rain run off. The river in town had turned the color of chocolate milk, and I hoped all the rivers would be clear by the opening of the regular trout season this Saturday.

I have prepared all my gear and tied a bunch of flies, so everything is ready for the opener. I’m hoping to find a little place to fish in all the chaos. Last year I didn’t even try to fish the opening day.  I went the second day, and saw all the carnage of the first day.

Last year, all over the river on the second day of the season, there were dead trout. It felt weird fishing in the presence of these dead fish. I remember there was an exceptionally large dead brown trout below one of the spots that I had been fishing hard all that spring. I had fooled a large fish sipping flies there, but I could never land him.

I thought about all this during my hike. If I had to this Saturday, I would fish so small and tight of a stream that it would guarantee my solitude.

As I ended my hike at the car, the rain began to fall. I can wait a few more days, but I hope the chaos of opening day is no where to be seen. I doubt it though.