Location: Brule
Air temp: 40s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
The last time TP and I visited the Brule, neither of us landed any steelhead. A brief tussle with a river creature, which I mistook for a steelie, had given me the hope to try my luck again. Sadly, my friends, I can tell you now, steelhead, let alone any large salmonidae, simply do not exist in the Brule.
After driving up and camping on Friday night, we woke before dawn and headed out to try to be the first on the river. Not having seen many cars parked at the motel or campsite was a good sign for a low river traffic day. Of course, someone was already at the first run we wanted to fish.
Heading upstream, we fished various familiar spots, mostly throwing small nymphs and egg patterns. After no success, we decided to head further upstream than usual. We found some nice runs above and below a bend in the stream. I fished the lower run, while TP was around the corner fishing the far bank. Not long after, I heard some hoots of what sounded like joy. Further investigating, I went upstream to find that TP had just caught a steelie. Of course, I didn't see it, and it can't possibly have occurred (though he said it was about an 18"er).
He encouraged me to take some casts into the run he had just caught his "steelie" from. I was soon tossing more no-hitters than Nolan Ryan. If there were steelhead there (which there weren't), they would have been long since spooked by my retarded casting and TP's recent battle. I decided to head back around the bend to resume my efforts. About three casts in, I hooked high into the tree behind me. Staring at the sky, trying to figure a way to get my flies back, I heard another shout.
"Fish!"
"FISH!"
I set the rod on the bank and ran up to see TP holding a thin graphite horseshoe in the air. I grabbed the net and dashed out to his location in the middle of the stream. It never jumped, but we would occasionally see flashes of something resembling a steelie. This mysterious creature darted every which way through the run, trying to use the deeper water and swifter current to make it to an undercut. That wasn't happening today. After an intense fight, there was this:
We fished for a bit more, with no success. Near the end of the day, I was back at the spot that was the culprit of my hope. While TP watched from the bank, my millionth snag of the day turned out not to be much of a snag. Something started moving on the other end in rapid fashion. Unlike most fish I've hooked at the Brule, this one did not fly out of the water when I gently pulled on the line. That being said, it also felt like it was two titmouse hairs north of that threshold. This creature as well did not surface. I kept a steady pressure on it, not wanting to horse it in, when all of a sudden, it was gone. Then, another shout rang through the forest.
"FUCK!"
As stated at the beginning of this story, there are no steelhead in the Brule.
