Early season recon

It seems like only yesterday we were fishing in board shorts and sandals. The smallies were rowdy and the pike were killers. Then the subtle change to Fall happened. Predator fish trolled the waters for victims, picking them off as they wished. Anadromous fish came to get their freak on providing lots of opportunities for amazing eats on swung flies and nymphs. Now Winter has come in vengeance.

Those who have been living in this area for years- say the weather is truly colder than normal for this time of the year. AWESOME!! As a Midwestern who transplanted to the West to ski full time and then returned to the Midwest, it is totally cool to have such good skiing already. The snow is light, dry and covers the world in a grand blank canvas; begging for new tracks to be laid down. Rivers are gurgling with ice they are still giving up some fish. Its great to be fishing deep and cold then look up to see people grinning as they ski down pristine white snow.

Throwing on pack and skinning to some of my favorite fishing places is so much fun. I am always amazed at returning to my favorite fishing holes in different seasons. It is like seeing it in a whole new light. The Winter shows you the places on the river that flow almost year round thereby providing the best fishing opportunities year round. So I am throwing on my pack and skinning to my favorite rivers; the best ones out West provide a nice descent to back to the car. Maybe I will throw my fishing stuff in the pack, maybe just some strong Irish coffee either way the crowds will be light and the scenery great.

On the approach to the Falls. It was brilliant crisp winter day. The crusty upper layer of snow made for a quick, easy skin but made for a horrible descent.

 

 

Through these trees is great swinging water. This was as close as I could get without waders- the numerous little streams around it where not frozen over yet. There is one that I am standing on to get this shoot praying that my skis spread my weight enough to keep my dry.

 

I skied down to my car through a different valley and never knew this was around- I will have to go back in the Summer. Many of the tribs in this area hold lots of brookies.

A new day and yet more new water.  The colors are in full effect, there was a nice little rain and I had the water to myself.  I have heard that when fishing new water that you know little about it is not uncommon to not catch fish 7 out of 10 days.  A little depressing but those 3 days make it worth it.  The other days you have to big deep find pleasure in the small stuff and be happy in any fish you land. 

I know there are steelhead in the water some even tease me but over all they schooled me.  Swinging small swinging high swinging big nymphing small nymphing big a recipe of school kid rhythms at only landed a single brown.  But it was so perfect.  The fish was where it should be and hit with the utter lack of restraint that only a small fish can. 

It aint a big fish most people would not even take a picture let along post it.  But I had to work for the fish and everything else was just perfect.  So here is my small friend and I look forward to seeing him later in life when he is all big and mean.

Its been an eventful few months.  Fall is coming to the UP there are have been a few nights in the 30s, chrome is turning up and the colors are changing.  Besides trying to find new places to Cast and Blast this fall I am also trying to find a new job.  The economy is a delightful thing haha.  In the next coming months I hope to have photos of new flies and new additions.  My GhettoSuperStar has been my go to baitfish fly lots of movement, flash and an 'eat me' attitude that is glaring.  Mistress Mayhem a flashy streamer for pike full of kick.  New colors and weights to my Rubber Legs Carp Candy. New color for my Copy Cat candy apple red total carp nip.

It was a fun day on the water today chancing pike on a river that is becoming my home waters.  There are many reasons why I like this river- its mediumish, pretty, quiet and full of life.  Baitfish scattered away from the raft.  But the best aspect of my home water is its ability to surprise- the fish cannot decide on size, species, what flies they prefer or presentation.  Its like fishing a new river everybody with much familiarity to it. 

Heading back to vice now a part time fly tyer without a real job needs to turn flies out.  Enjoy the coming of Fall- a friend of mine once called it an embarrassment of riches and I love being wealthy to enjoy this season.

Boundary Waters Part One

Few things compare to heading off on a fishing trip...old water, new water, exotic locales whatever- you are fishing not working. If it is a good trip you are out of cell coverage for a significant part of the time. The only signs of civilization are satellites that pass on a clear night sky. The Boundary Waters have been on my list for many years. From my Mum, it is the loons and their beautifully eiry  call. From my sister, blood sucking leeches, windy lakes and dirty portages. From my brother, tales of deep clear lakes with big smallies and ravenous pike.

It is blessed relief to finally load your gear into your fishing transport, in our case a canoe. No more worries about gear, food- if you do not have it you make due. The weeks leading up to the trip I was following the weather. I knew it might be cold- already in July there had been many days of really cold weather. If nothing else that means the ticks and the winged blood suckers should be down to a tolerable level. On this trip I was going with some new people which is great fun but you also think in the back of your mind- what if they are boring, complain about camp food or in our case since we were there to fish they decide they would rather read books than fish. Luckily for me my companions were awesome fun they took the bugs, the rain and everything in good stride. Camp fires were full of conversation sometimes beyond me but always interesting. Smiles all a round whenever a fish was brought to the boat.

Like any good outfitters everybody said the fishing was great- the water was up, it was cold, the moon would be full, they had made the necessary sacrifices to the fish gods. In case you are wondering the right sacrifice to guarantee a good fishing trip is to burn a copy of a how to guide on snagging trophy salmon on gravel beds on the PM.

A mandatory safety video before you went on the water harped on bear bags but finding a good one was tricky especially when trying to hang food for a bunch of guys for a week. I have heard stories about trees falling on tents during big winds. Want to know how to find the trees most likely to fall on your tent. Hang your food, go fishing, and listen from the boom- lesson number one for the trip.

it was great to finally get fishing that first night. Forget the fact that most were small they seemed eager so it seemed to bode well for the trip. Unfortunately they never grew in size but the numbers stayed true for the rest of the trip. For a few hours each day the fish turned on and we had fun. Which was good because the fish made was work for them. Casting sinking lines standing in canoe aint fun. Sink tips, big streamers, small streamers nothing sparked the big fellas to come out and play. I tried insulting the fish hoping to piss them off and that did not work. One day we decided to have a fish dinner. I am a dedicated catch and release guy for years but sometimes eating the fish you catch is terrific. Me eating the fish I catch is an event that happens about once a decade or if you believe my Mum as often as I clean my room. In a desperate tactic to find a better fly we cut their stomachs open. Each and every fish had empty sucks. This went on and on and occured again during our second meal. The only fish that had something in its belly was a hammerhead pike with a small little baitfish mostly digested.

The scenery in the Boundary Waters though more than makes up for it. Sometimes the fishing is really secondary to the whole overall experience. Something that I almost never say or really believe but in this case its God's honest truth. Everyday we were surrounded by loons. Night time was punctuated by their calls breaking the silence of the night. Beavers were plentiful. Swimming around throwing up huge wakes as they swim around. No matter how many times I hear it when beaver's slap their tails to warm their friends it is still great. Paddling around and hearing that slap especially close never gets old. One day the slap was so close we almost got wet. Though seeing an osprey wing past us with a large pike in its talons was cool it was also kind of stinging. Two playful otters pasted us one day I love those creatures. It reminded me of my favorite river in Montana where I regularly saw otters playing in currents.

More coming soon