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The last couple days have been very tough. Last week there were some days that shined, this week (so far) has been a reality check. Barto and I fished half the day on Sunday with not so much as a grab. We did talk to one other angler that landed two browns, but other than that it was quiet. The deer were running for their lives and we saw a doe and a fawn dash across the river just below us. If you're out this week, wear some orange. People sometimes hunt in some surprising spots and it's better to be on the safe side. Today started with a few grabs and ended with a few grabs. No fish actually stayed pinned for any amount of time, they just wanted to remind us that they were there. Maybe they were hunkered down on the bottom with little flak jackets on. A small buck that was bedded tight on an island jumped up when we were very close to it and made a dash to somewhere he thought was more safe. We didn't hear any shots after he ran off so I'm assuming he lived for at least a little while. It's been strange. Warm, overcast weather and good flows is usually a recipe for success. Lets hope tomorrow is a little better. If I don't get a report in tomorrow, Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels to all.
Charlie, a.k.a. C 13, finally broke his streak this morning with a fine steelhead. The fish ate a black and chartreuse Eumer tube mid-swing at about 9 a.m. It felt like a steelhead morning, with rain and a light fog falling across much of the river. Enjoy it, pretty soon it will be snow... Congrats Mr. Cutter.
The fishing lately has been streaky. When the fish are hot, they've been really grabby. When they're off, they're off. I've spent nearly every day of the last week or so on the rivers and have seen the ups and downs. The last two days we took a bit of a beating, but today was golden. Unseasonable weather and cooperative fish. We started the day by hooking and landing a good brown that ate a Bow River Bugger swung slowly through a deep trough. After lunch, Dennis repeated the feat by conquering another brown, this one a bit smaller but nonetheless a great fish. Early in the afternoon, we came to a run that rarely gets fished and started at the top swinging the Bow River Bugger, which Dennis had understandably gained a momentous amount of faith in. Two-thirds of the way through the run, the fly was swinging under a big overhanging tree and through a bucket when a fish grabbed. A couple seconds into the fight, the fish cleared the water and we saw that it was a dime-bright steelhead. The fish ran two circles around us, between Dennis's legs, upriver and then down and thankfully stayed pinned. Sprinkle in a few jumps and it was a typical A+ steelhead battle. A gorgeous specimen as fresh as they come. Two big browns is a great day in itself, but a fresh steelhead is a bonus above bonuses.
Congrats to Sara Kwitek on her first steelhead (and second), caught on the Brule River this last weekend. Thanks for the pics Matt, but you never mentioned if you got any fish. I'm guessing that you were a chivalrous man.
I made it out this morning after hitting my snooze about seven times and was shocked that there was no one else at the area I wanted to fish. I was either lucky or somebody had already been there laying the hammer down. I got a good grab on my third swing and decided that perhaps I was lucky. Two-thirds of the way down the run I sent a cast out along a big log and got jacked before the fly even started it's swing. It was a good brown, clean and around seven or eight pounds. She ate the same black-over-blue tube that Bart got his big fish on yesterday, only today I added a hot orange cone ahead of the fly. I hit one other area on the way home and didn't do much. A couple grabs that were probably the little planted browns the D.N.R. put in this fall. I love this weather but I'm kind of longing for the cold stuff.
An impressive outing for team Tight Lines this morning. At the first run, Bart hooked a nice female brown towards the bottom of the run on a fly dubbed "the Hammer" and just after I landed it for him and took a few pictures, Timmy hooked and landed another smaller female. At the second spot, I hooked a huge fish in the bucket at the bottom of the run on a black-over-blue tube. I fought the fish for a couple minutes and just as Tim was coming down to help me land it, she rolled up on the surface and dropped the fly. The huge, square white tail told the story. It was the second salmon of the season that actually ate a swung fly. A couple runs down from there, Bart hooked and landed an offensive lineman of a brown trout. It was not far from where he landed the huge brown last season, with this fish dwarfing that one. After a good tug-o-war, Timmy avoided getting knocked off his feet and successfully tailed the monster. It was the biggest brown Barto has ever caught and probably the biggest I've ever seen. Clean as can be and just a brute. I proceeded to get two more tugs and not land a fish, but I did have a personal first. After the three of us went through a run, I backed out and put on an Airflo floating poly-leader and a firetiger Wiggle Minnow. After just a few casts, the W.M. was out there doing her thing across the surface when a fish came up and smacked it. In surprise, I set the hook hard and it was all over. It just goes to show.... when all else fails, try something different. November, 67 degrees, no wind and sunny. The day couldn't have been any sweeter.
I decided to sleep in a bit this morning and fish a tad later than I normally do. Matt Z. and I rendezvoused at my house at about 8:30 and after the traditional stop at the gas station for coffee and Little Debbie donuts we were fishing by a little after 9:30. After a few casts in the first run I got jacked hard mid-swing. I was fishing a tube fly that I tied that is basically four clumps of black Arctic Fox and a copious amount of june bug colored Flashabou. I tried a few more casts and then switched flies, this time to a fly called the Kilowatt. The new fly, about 1/3 the size of the first one, went out via a snap-t and hit the water with a subtle little plop. After swinging about ten feet I felt a couple thumps. I stayed with it and a couple seconds later the line went taught. I pulled back and felt resistance, but very little else. After a couple more seconds, hell broke loose. The fish, now realizing that it was hooked, tore down river and across the river into the fastest current of the run. I knew I couldn't win the battle from where I was, so I crossed the river and booked down the shoreline to some slack water. When I got the fish a little closer, I noticed some white. My first thought was that it was a moldy salmon, but I had never seen a moldy salmon fight like this fish did. Then I saw the orange belly and white edges on the fins and realized that it was a big splake. I handed the rod to Matt and tailed the fish. Awesome stuff! After some great pictures by Matt, back to the water she went. What a fish. My first big splake on a fly. We fished through another run and at the beginning of the third run I got walloped by a big female brown. Matt expertly tailed her and after a couple shots, she was free. We finished the day in a different part of the river and Matt got his fish for the day, a pretty little 7" brown. It couldn't have been any prettier out and to have the success that we had made it all the better. To those who regularly read and follow this blog, Thank You. Your compliments and positive comments make it easy to sit down and write a report after a long day on the water when I really just want to relax and kick my feet up. From the bottom of my heart, Thank You.
Tony (my brother-in-law) and I fished yesterday morning on one of the local tributaries. Despite the terrible conditions, there were still a good number of people around. It was an outing that ended in frustration, but started with a really good fish. Tony was below me in a run and he hung his fly on the bottom. When he broke it off, he broke the tippet free from the sink-tip he was using. He began walking up to me so that I could repair it. I stripped in my skagit head and tossed another cast out, roughly 70 feet. As Tony got to me, I stuck my switch rod between my legs and began the task of re-tying tippet, nipping tag ends, choosing another fly and tying that fly on. I had just cinched the knot tight on the fly when I felt something. I looked down to see my 7110 Z-Axis getting rocked by a fish. I dropped Tony's fly in the water, picked up my rod and to my surprise, the fish was still on and running line out and across the river. My first thought was steelhead, but about the time that thought started dancing in my head my fish cleared the water with a very nice jump. I saw that it was a nice brown and I remember thinking to myself, wow, I wish they did that all the time. We landed the fish, got some nice photos and pushed her off back to her lair. Browns on three consecutive outings. Things were all good, I was happy. On a side note it would have been great if the Packers could have pulled off the victory today, but I did see one sign that was hilarious. It simply read "We're gonna miss you, Brent". Also, if you want an easy ab workout, click on this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD-KaUl_olo The dude in the beginning and at 4:50 are hilarious!
Fishing the last couple weeks has been like the water levels.... up and down. Last week Friday the river was rolling at about 290 c.f.s. in the morning, only to jump to 350 by mid-day and then to 550 by dark. The next morning at around 4 a.m. the river had spiked to almost 900 c.f.s., the highest I've personally ever seen it in the fall. It fell to and stabilized at about 500 c.f.s. for a couple days, only to spike again to just over 700 c.f.s. yesterday. Strange stuff. Friday was one of the worst days I've ever guided from a weather standpoint. Sideways rain, 20 m.p.h. winds and a growing river. The fish actually responded well. We landed a giant brown within the first 20 casts on a swung marabou tube fly. I'm still awaiting the pictures, but as soon as I get them I'll throw them up here. At about midday we hooked and landed another huge brown, this one a big male that ate a black over orange Northern Lights. To cap the day off, a third fish came to the net at around 3:00 p.m., this one a slightly smaller male that was about as big around as it was long. An awesome day considering the terrible conditions that we were dealing with. The next day (900 c.f.s.) required the use of the drift boat to even safely get around in the river. The fluctuating conditions put a bit of a hamper on the fishing, but hey, we got to see the sun in the afternoon for the first time in about a week. On Monday, Matt Z., Charlie and myself floated a stretch of the river that we don't do all that often and were rewarded with one good fish and another that was very briefly attached to a marabou. We saw more mallards than anything else and it was good to be out there with the guys enjoying a beer and relaxing. Today, Timmy and I fished several stretches of our most local tributary and had a decent morning. Not much going at the first stop, but at the second area Tim got a grab and I landed one of the smallest lake-run fish I've ever caught. I'll never complain about lifting the tip of the rod and feeling head shakes, even if it is from a pretty small fish. We haven't seen a ton of fish on gravel yet. I think that they were starting but the crazy water levels may have pushed them around a bit. Once things stabilize and they re-acclimate themselves a bit, they should really be on the gravel. The quicker they spawn and recuperate, the better. That's when the real fun starts. 15 degree mornings, snow and lots of coffee and iced guides. Hammerin' um.
After reading another report from a "local" angler, ridiculing the number of steelhead on his "home" river on the Wisconsin side of Lake Michigan and the quality of the river itself, it got me stewing a bit. First of all, I've always been on board with the school of thinking that if you don't like something, you don't have to do it. Secondly, don't piss and moan about the fact that you're out there fishing. Some of us have chosen a path that allows us to fish... a lot. Others are super passionate about the sport but are tied down to a career that doesn't allow them to be out there, waist deep, doing it. Yes, we don't have a lot of river mileage available due to dam placement. Yes, there is very, very little natural reproduction on our rivers. Yes, most years in the fall it's hard to swing a fly because there's so little water that some rivers barely move. But, it's what we've got. You have the option to head out to Oregon, B.C., Idaho or somewhere else that has breathtaking water and good numbers of fish. Hell, I'd love to go out west every other week, but there's something special about home waters. Adventure and exploration are awesome, it's an almost primitive part of the mind that begs to know what's around the next bend. But a short drive to a run that you know like an old leather recliner is comforting, even if you know that there's probably only a couple fish around. Walking the same path down to the river, stopping at the same place to rig up and casting to the same features in the river that you have a hundred times before. Features that will be there for your great, great grand kids, fish or not. So go ahead and whine about the quality of our local water. You're probably not fishing for the right reasons anyway. Go fish somewhere else and leave us in peace and quiet. Familiarity breeds contempt? Possible. It also breeds wellbeing, bliss and contentment.
Charlie and I went out this morning and kicked around on one of the local tribs for a few hours. At the first run we fished I finally broke in my new switch rod on a pretty nice pike (a.k.a. Mr. ronny dingo). Not exactly what I was expecting, but hey, it was a fish. I was stripping in a black Intruder to set up for another cast and he smoked it right on the edge of a patch of weeds. I've obviously been reading Charlie's book. We went to a couple other runs and actually saw a decent number of browns and a lot less salmon than there was last week. I even got a salmon to eat a fly. The fly is a variation of a fly that Marty Kwitek frequently used for salmon, I just added a lot more flash to it. The first time I swung it in front of a salmon, the fish turned and followed it about four or five feet and then Charlie informed me that the fish actually opened it's mouth to try to eat it. A few casts later and he actually ate the damn thing. Weird. As neat as it was that he ate a fly, the fight (I'm sorry to say) was about like dropping a mesh bag of Carharts in the river, letting them soak, and then trying to pull them back up against the current. No bueno. The plus side is that the fish are around in most of the rivers and the salmon are starting to die off. The bad side is the fact that we need more water. The rivers are pretty low and clear. I have to believe that your best bets are waking up early or going out on cloudy days. Either way, it was one of the nicer fall days that I can remember.
Happy Boss Day, Timmy T. Just kidding about the brown nosing thing. So, do you remember when Charlie and I caught muskies?
This picture has been all over the Internet... pretty amazing. Estimated at 85 to 90 pounds. Fresh? No. "Dime bright"? Absolutely not. Disgustingly huge and grotesque. Yup. Hammerin' 'um.
