A Different Type of Fishing

My youngest son and I were fortunate enough to spend most of Monday wading a blue ribbon of the midwest – a river that is in fact a gem of The Driftless Area. The pictures are a clear signature, recognizable by anyone who has put eyes on this landscape.

We started ~1100 – nice and easy. The temperament of this little guy is remarkable. He apparently sees riding in the backpack not as a means of confinement but rather as a perch from which he can see and hear all. He points and exclaims regularly… he grabs leaves and branches, and by all accounts seems to enjoy the ride. Every few minutes I’d reach up and hand off a rock. He would giggle. We’d stop now and again on a cobble bar and he’d teeter-walk around on inspection duty. It makes me happy to see him happy in such a great place… and I’m happy to be in such a place so I guess there is happiness abounding. That’s the best way to say it.

We did fish, but I say here it was a different type of fishing because it was incidental in that it took a back seat to simply being in the river. The turning leaves, the flowing water and the limestone and sandstone were at the forefront on this day. We did fish though. One fly – the Wilted Spinach – all day. Never lost one. Swinging a soft hackle is good for a day like Monday… low water and slow, thoughtful walking… you can fish it from quite a distance and you don’t have to worry about getting a good drift because you’re fishing it downstream. Fewer tangles too. You could argue less skill is required – probably so – you don’t really set the hook even. Also, you don’t typically get into the big fish with this technique, as it is difficult to get it down deep in the slots and dark hideaways. The kid cackles at any size fish though. The most interesting thing regarding the fishing was watching different sizes come from different waters. We fished mostly the shallow riffles, and from those we caught quite a few browns in the 4-8” range – very small indeed. In the couple shallow pools we fished we nicked a couple browns that were slightly larger. And from the one really nice deep water that was slow enough for a swing through, we caught the two big fish of the day: a couple rainbows in the mid-teens. One might have pushed 16” but not sure. On one of them, I felt the headshake before I even realized the fish had eaten the fly… not all that skillful, but it seems that can be the way of it sometimes.

Regarding the place – the pictures speak volumes, but it’s still not enough. You need to go there and look on it. It’s not a vacation, it’s not a family trip… It’s our backyard. A remarkable river and valley. Leaves on fire with color, rock faces whispering on some history, and a stone-clear flow of cold water around your legs. Waders would have been an insult. We climbed to a high point in the park to do our duty and pay some homage. I really felt that on a day like Monday, it’d have been offensive to the place to not be out there.










You'll have to excuse this blatant pose. I only meant to capture what you might see if you were to stumble across these two happy guys standing in the river.