Finally the hot weather has let up. Well at least at night time it has. Still being in the high 80's during the day, the ideal time to target the trout is either in the night or early a.m. Last night it got down to around 60 degrees, with low humidity. That is key. The humidity is enough to drive the sanest man crazy. Lately I've noticed that the creeks themselves have been a little on the warm side. I don't actually use a thermometer, even though I know this helps when deciding whether or not to hit the streams. I just go by how cool it feels as I splash it directly into my face, or how quickly it cools off the stinging nettles that make my shins feel as if they're on fire. So I decided to head for one of those streams where the water just seems to stay a little cooler than the rest. Yes, you guessed it, a Brook Trout stream. A tiny Brook Trout stream to be exact. A really tiny,overgrown, super extra hairy Brook Trout stream. One thing I new for sure is that there probably wouldn't be any one else out on this obstacle course of a stream. PErfEct!!! I new that many a fly would be lost on this trip, but who cares because it is always worth it and luckily I tie my own flies and don't have to spend my precious cash on them. It was late in the night when the decision was made to head out in the morning, so I decided not to tie up any new flies. I set the alarm for 4:00 a.m. and closed my eyes with excitement for the morning to come. Sweet dreams of Brook Trout and what ever else was willing to hit my fly.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. 4:00 oclock rolled around quickly. Shower, bagel and then gear. Hopped in my ride and off I went about a half an hour later. I cruised through town and grabbed a Bacon Egg and Cheese biscuit from McDonalds with an ice water. I love the BE&C early in the morning, but this time the thing was like a hockey puck. Seriously!!!! What does it take to get a fresh breakfast sandwich at 5:00 in the morning?? Not to mention the high price of the dang thing. Well being pretty hungry, I quickly scarfed it down, with a little help from the ice water. At least they got the water right! I continued on and cranked up a little Rage Against the Machine to wake up the soul. I was pumped up to toss some flies. I only had a small window of time so I was pedal to the medal, watching for deer the whole way. About ten minutes out of town and I was there. The sun was coming up and the air was chilly and smelled oh so good.
I threw on my shoes and camera's, grabbed my fly rod and onto the stream I went. Last time I was here I fished some bombers and had really good luck with them, so I decided to tie one on again. I went to a hole that I know holds quite a few fish. Sat for a bit and looked for rises. I saw one and that was all. It was still pretty early and the temps were quite cool, so I figured the fish would become more active once the sun was up for just a little. After tossing the bomber in about 5 times with no action, I decided to change it up and tied on a tiny trailer fly that looked like a mini one of my Castle Rock Killers. In it went and I let it sink slowly. Then about 2 seconds later and my line took off the other way. This was the guy that decided to set his alarm and came out to play.
Although it wasn't the Brookie I was after, it was still a wonderful sight none the less. I was happy and let it go in the rapids below the hole. I quickly tossed the fly back into the hole and had an instant strike, but missed it. Right back in it went, Splash, no wait I didn't see where it hit. Oh right, there it is, tightly wrapped around the barbwire fence. Bummer. It was about a foot away from the two flies I lost to the fence last time I was here. It was just too deep to wade out to get them, so I went to the box and tied a new fly on. I continued down stream and continued to lose flies. By the time I had arrived at the sweet holes, I had lost all the flies I planned on using. All of the cows were staring at me wondering what language I was speaking that mostly consisted of every swear word in the book, and then some. I did find one fly that I actually lost the time before and was able to retrieve it. This made me think about the other flies tangled in the barbwire at the first hole I fished. So I headed back upstream and decided to try and get them somehow. I ended up stretching out as far as I could and wrapped them around the tip of my pole and gave them a tug. The first set of flies I was able to retrieve were a Ausable Bomber with a tiny gray and pink see through bead head fly. Then I was able to get the mini C.R.K. too, but ended up dropping it in the grass and it disappeared just as quick as it was saved. Bummer. I tied on the Bomber with the bead head trailing about a foot down. I headed upstream and quickly realized it was even hairier than where I had just come from. Oh well, I wasn't about to let this stream get the best of me. Although a lot of the holes were completely blocked off by over hanging weeds, I was able to find a few holes that I was able to squeeze my fly line through. These holes are the kind of holes where you hit a weed and let it sit there and pray a fish bites it and that it doesn't end up snagging. Tighter than a new jar of pickles. The rest of the day I would some how keep the same two flies and the fish would be taken on both flies, with the Bomber taking a few more then the bead head.
|Caught this guy after letting the bomber sink down a little. The sun made it really hard to see my line.|
|Caught this little fella out of the same hole as the one above. This surprised me considering how much splashing the other one did.|
|This was one of those where I landed the fly on the weeds and let the current bring it down into this guy. Kypee little guy.|
|At first I thought this was a Monarch but was later informed by my buddy that it is a Viceroy. A mimic of the Monarch. Rare and fast.|
|This one favored the bead head and put up a nice fuss.|
|The fish were really starting to get active when I caught this last one. It seems like they always start biting right when I have to leave.|
While I was there I saw a DNR truck cruise back in to the deep of it. I was going to check it out and see what they were up to, but they were gone by the time I got that far up. I think they might have been taking some fish out to another stream, because the truck had a big metal tank in the back of it. Maybe they are taking them to my home stream :) Probably not though.
Well that's my little report for Wisconsin's Driftless Area so far this month. The temps should start cooling off even more soon, and then it's sweatshirt time. I only have two months left until they shut the streams down until March. I will either start ice fishing, or go crazy waiting for the trout season to start up again. Maybe I will have to move to Colorado since there trout season is just beginning. Not to mention the sweet snowboarding out there to boot. Mountains, snowboarding, fly fishing, does life get any better. Cutthroats HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! :)
Until Next Time.....Tight Lines to all !!!!!!!