success

We couldn't have asked for a better weekend to fish steelhead. The one to three inches of rain that were in the forecast for Thursday and Friday never really amounted to anything, so the rivers were in prime form. As I mentioned in my previous post, my brother Luke made the trip over for the weekend and I had every intention of working my tail off to get him his first steelhead. Saturday morning greeted us with cloudy, overcast skies and little wind. Perfect. We got to the river, geared up and started the trek down river. After a quick roll casting lesson and some action from some of the thousands of suckers in the river, things started rolling. Luke ended up hooking up twice, once with a really nice chrome fish that, in a blink of an eye, tore to the other side of the pool, launched into the air and popped the fly. I ended up hooking three fish and landing two, both of which were bright hens, and Danny hooked and landed a nice buck later in the afternoon. By eight the river was a zoo, with people outnumbering steelhead. Sunday morning was one of those mornings I'll never forget. Luke and I arrived at the river at about 5:15, geared up, and again headed down river. We got to one of my favorite runs and I got Luke set up with a hex nymph and a small egg fly. He stepped into the river and started working the run while I got my rod strung up. I had no more than sat down and he had a fish hooked up. I jumped into the river and tried my best to coach him through the fight and after a couple minutes we landed his first steelhead, a nice hen of about twenty inches. After a couple quick pictures, we released her to fight another day. Awesome. Mission accomplished. After some high fives and laughs, we checked his fly and tippet for damage and I took a turn in the run. I made roughly five or six casts and my indicator slipped under. I set the hook and new right away that it was a good fish. The line in the water at my feet was ripped through the guides and my reel was screaming in a matter of about a second. After several powerful runs, Luke tailed the fish, a buck this time of about twenty four inches. We took a couple pictures and got the fish back in the water. Two hook ups, two fish, and it was only 6:15. That doesn't happen very often. After that, things slowed considerably. We gave the run about another hour and decided to move up. I was nervous that there would be a bunch of people up from us, but surprisingly we saw no one. I hooked one other fish up river, a big bright fish that snapped my fluorocarbon in a matter of seconds. And that was it. The combination of high skies and pressure from the day before made the fish shut off. But that was o.k. In one and a half days, we hooked eight or nine fish and landed five. To some that might not sound that great, but to anyone that's ever fished steelhead in Wisconsin, it was epic.

first fish????

I feel like a seven year old, waiting impatiently for Christmas morning. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the coming weekend off my mind. Steelheading was phenomenal from about the 30th through the 9th (April), but then all the wishes that the fisherman had last year for rain came true...in a matter of two days. I tried, futilely, to drum up a fish on Sunday, but with the rivers raging and the color of YooHoo (with or without rum), it was a wash. No pun intended. However, it looks like the all the marbles will fall into place this weekend. The rivers are dropping as you read this, there's warm weather in the forecast with a little rain but nothing too heavy (yup, I just jinxed all of us), and it's the first turkey season. The latter is always good for removing a few bodies from the river. Best of all, I'm looking forward to my little brother coming over for his first trip. I'm hoping to give him a 4 a.m. coffee drenched crash course on steelheading on the way to the river. All of which will be a blur when his morning is shattered by a dime bright fish ripping line from his reel. And, more than likely, the tippet will snap and we'll lose the fish. That's just what happens when you mix a big, powerful, pissed off fish with a small stream. The next thing that will happen is what I'm really looking forward to. I'll be standing behind him on the bank, coffee in hand, laughing, and he'll turn around and give me that "what the @*&% just happened" look, eyes as big as dinner plates. I've hooked plenty of steelhead and I'd be lying if I said I don't have the same look after it happens to me. And that will be the end for him. Anyone reading this that's ever caught a steelhead knows what I mean.

spring steel

Quick, everyone grab your riot gear, there are steelhead in the rivers! Oh yes, spring steelheading has hit Wisconsin again. I arrived at one of my favorite rivers Sunday morning at six a.m. to find only one vehicle there and remarkably clear water. Odd I thought, I figured there'd be five or six cars here. I had heard that the day before, on the Kewaunee, there were nearly a dozen vehicles at the two main parking areas. Hence my pessimism. I geared up and hiked nearly three-quarters of a mile down river, to hopefully out run the masses. Things were slow until the sun peeked over the cedars. At about 8:00 I noticed a small hen on gravel that was really spooky. She shot down to some holding water that was strewn with wood and other cover. I took off my big ball indicator and streamer and switched to a couple smaller flies, a decision that paid off immediately. After about three casts I hooked into a nice fish and, after several powerful head shakes, one of my knots separated and the fight was over. Steelhead= one, Nate= zero. I re-tied the exact same set up, taking extra care to get the knots perfect. A handful of casts later, another hookup. This time the knots held and after a couple minutes the first steelhead of the spring was at hand. It was an early fish, probably a Chamber's Creek strain, so there was no reel screaming runs or tarpon-like vaults towards the sky, but it was a steelhead nonetheless. I managed to hook one other fish that morning, a smallish steelhead that thought a hung up, twirling in the current egg pattern looked natural. I decided, around 11:00, that I'd head back to the car for a sandwich and a soda and shed some layers, as it was nearing sixty degrees. As I headed up river, I had a permanent grin on my face. A grin that can only be attained after spending months tying steelhead flies, reading steelhead books and articles, looking at pictures of steelhead, and then finally, when all your stars align, doing battle with the beast. A grin that would quickly be turned into a blank expression. A blank expression that is attained when you get back to the parking area and see guys walking around with stringers of small steelhead, people yelling, aluminum cans strewn about from the last five hours, and the fact that the one other car that was there in the morning had multiplied by six. I spent the rest of the day walking around a couple other rivers only to witness the same thing. It was like the movie Groundhog Day. In retrospect, I should have stayed down river. Stayed in my little piece of heaven that I'd found. Maybe eat a sandwich and shut my eyes, with my back against a cedar and the sun on my face. That was all shattered when I got back to the car. Damn steelhead.

news at Tight Lines

Just wanted to let everyone know that the new Tight Lines website is finally up and running. You can click the link on the right side of the page to check it out. Also, congratulations to Tim and Sarah on the birth of Noah Matthew, born last Monday. Mom and baby are doing great!