Rain, rain, don't go away...

Date: June 3, 2007
Location: Upper
Air temp: high 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: little brown things and very little brown things
Fish landed: 10 (browns)

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Xan


A gloomy day for the average Joe is an ideal one for fisher-folk. The past few days brought some much needed rain, though not enough to blow out the streams.

After consulting weather.com's animated radar, it appeared that most of Sunday morning's rain would hit Grand Old Day in St. Paul, and move south, avoiding Western WI and giving me hope I would not be electrocuted by God's wrath.

I headed off to a McDonald's in WI to fuel up with a #5 meal and "make sure the pipes were empty." Deciding where to fish that day, I chose somewhere close, "The Upper," more specifically, the spot that runs along the county road. I had not fished any spot on the Upper this year, so I figured it was time to check it out.

The weather would be overcast the entire day, and when I saw the stream was cloudy, I knew a productive session was ahead.

The start of the day, however, was slow. This was despite the fact the fish were active and eagerly striking my flies. A lack of concentration led to many missed connections, tangles and snags.

After a while, I started to land fish. The trout were rising with some frequency, but I stubbornly stuck with nymphing. My lack of tactics did not matter. The weather, water and fish conditions were ripe, and I was able to pick up fish all over the river.

I went upstream further than I ever had before. Normally I stop at the large pool, but a worm-dunker had already claimed that spot, so I forged on. After a while, I found myself fishing in the backyard of a couple homes, their well trimmed lawns leading all the way up to the water. A man and women, each on riding lawn mowers, were making their rounds along each property. They provided an audience as I continued to catch fish, occasionally stopping their mowers to comment on the trout I was landing. This area, and a little further up, had runs where the fish were piled up.

After I hit an official 10 (not counting false hooks and trout that got away right before I could get them to hand), I called it a day. As I made my way back down the stream, I saw a fellow fly fisherman in the same spot when I was heading upstream. When I first saw him, he said he hadn't had much luck landing fish, but was getting many strikes. By the time I saw him again, he reported landing roughly 20 fish, all in an area of about 100 feet.

It was a great day to be out. Afterwards, I met up with the gang at Grand Old Day, where we paid $5 for the privilege to buy $6 beers, and listened to shitty bands.