Dates: April 17, 2010
Location: Eagle and Club
Air temp: ?
Water temp: ?
Hatches: Caddis
Fish landed: a few
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QD
TP
Xan
Having a hard time deciding where to fish, we wound up at Eagle. After a quick jaunt upstream, we reversed course and fished our way downstream to the mousing pools. It was a slow go, but a few fish were landed here and there by the group. Caddis were out and about, with a few fish rising to them.
We then headed out to the Club, where we hiked a ways downstream. I almost caught two trout on a caddis dry, but my hook set timing was off, and dry fly fishing sucks balls anyways. The day ended after we made it close to the upstream reaches of the Great Lawn. TP landed a decent trout on a downstream caddis dry presentation.
Dates: April 4, 2009
Location: Eagle Pass
Air temp: 40s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
I got off to a late start on Saturday, which was made later with stops at Burger King, a gas station and Lunds. After I renewed my license and purchased some pink squirrels, I was on the road, ready to take advantage of the glorious overcast day.
There were four cars at Famous Original Rays, so I drove to Eagle Pass, determined to try a spot I hadn't been to this season. There were a couple of cars there, one of which departed with two anglers as I was setting up.
Fishing just upstream from the bridge, I began what would be a frustrating day of bullshit. Snags, two lost flies, getting caught in the same tree twice (once on the way up, then on the way back down), scaring every fish in the stream, destroying a leader, etc... The only fish I came close to catching was one that rose to my Royal Wulff early in the session.
I hiked up a ways upstream, fishing every decent looking spot, which were few and far between. Once again, the river was low and clear, and my late start ensured numerous anglers had already flogged the water I was fishing. On days like this, I can only take solace in the fact that I didn't impale myself with a guide or have to take a shit in the woods with just a sunflower seed bag to wipe with. There's always a bright side.
On a side note, what the fuck is up with Wisconsin and pile of shit stores like Pamida and Shopko? They seem poised to compete against Wal-Mart and Target respectively, except with roughly a quarter of the inventory. Need a store with no produce, six packs of Bud and Sanyo TVs? Pamida is your place!
Date: May 18, 2008
Location: Great Lawn
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 6 (4 browns, 2 brooks)Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Scotty Mac
Xan
Another early morning, another day at the Curd. We arrived to a bridge without any cars parked by it. Once set up, we began covering the watery expanse along the Great Lawn itself. Cast after cast, after cast, after cast... after cast. Nary even a hit, for either of us, as we slowly moved our way upstream.
Finally, along the bank, protected by overhanging branches, I was able to land four fish. We kept on, fishing our way to the large pool, and even further up past the second major pool. I was only able to land a couple more, that was it.
We ended the day by the first, smaller pool from the lawn. The fish were rising with regularity, but not interested in our dries. Worse, they were taunting us by occasionally rising just behind them. After a good deal of futility, we called it a day.
Date: May 17, 2008
Location: Eagle
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 brownsPresent members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
TP and I set out early on Saturday hoping to beat the crowds. After encountering a refugee camp at the EP Spot, we arrived at Eagle to find no cars. Things started well, as I was able to land a few just upstream from the bridge. We then traveled a ways downstream, to the first big pool in the area between Eagle and the Club. It was slow going for the both of us, with a few fish picked up here and there. The water was low and clear, and in a few hours they were swarming with other fishermen. After a meager haul, we went and got some spicy curds.
Date: July 20, 2007
Location: Eagle, The Great Lawn & Bridge
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Booter
XanTP
I admit, I like Bob Seger. I wouldn't call it a guilty pleasure (like my secret glee of hearing Bobby Brown's "Don't Be Cruel," or some Hall & Oates), and I only have his greatest hits album, but I will go on record saying he has some fine tracks.
In our email exchanges planning out this night fishing session, I invoked a few lines of his seminal work, which serves as the title of this post. As TP was getting ready to leave work that day, whose raspy, heartland voice came on over the PA? If you guessed the seminal Michigander, Throb Seger, singing "Night Moves" no less, you get a cookie.
As we drove to the stream, we discussed the significance of this coincidence. Was it an omen? And then, it came, like a light from the heavens. "Turn the Page" burst out from Booter's radio. We had been thrice blessed by Ann Arbor's favorite son.
This was our sign.
It turned out that the fishing fucking sucked, so Bob can go to hell.
We started at Eagle to once again rain mice over the boulder field. I once again managed to foul hook a brown, while TP and Boot caught a few, though nothing big. The fierce strikes and loud splashes were curiously absent this night.
Once we gave up on the spot, we drove to the where TP and I had fished once in May and tested the waters near the bridge. Nada. We then made the short jaunt to the "Bridge," where the hits picked up, especially at Quickdraw's favorite run, but nothing of size was taken.
Next time I'll quote Kid Rock.
Date: June 23, 2007
Location: Eagle & Club
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: 1 brown
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Booter
TP
Xan
Booter and I headed to the EPB&G on an early Saturday eve to meet up with TP for a mouse excursion. At the bar, it was decided that we weren't gonna fuck around. We plotted our war path, and it would be a late night. The evening would take us from Eagle, downstream to the Club. After parking a car at the Club, we drove to Eagle and began our way down.
We started fishing in the slow, wide area not far from the bridge. While FB and TP were throwing streamers, I made my way through the bog to give a few runs downstream a good nymphing. I lost sight of the two while the last rays of sunlight left the Wisconsin farmland. As the darkness settled in, I decided to wait for them to catch up, not wanting to wander too far off in the night. Minutes past, then some more. After a good stretch, just standing in the stream, I got impatient and decided keep going to the boulder field, the first prime mouse spot.
Of the few times I've gone night fishing, the boulder spot has presented the greatest possibilities. Big fish feed there. Under the red glow of my headlamp, I tied on a mouse and began to tempt those possibilities. Action started immediately. Two casts, two tugs, though no fish hooked.
The tricky part of fishing meece is in how the fish react. Sometimes the trout will tug on the prey, trying to drown the artificial critter. Other times, they will slap it with their tail (this is just from what I've read. I can feel resistance on the fly, but it's too dark to know what in the hell is going on). Sometimes you'll get lucky and the fish will try to inhale the mouse pattern.
On the third or fourth cast, I felt a tug. I waited a few seconds and gave a hardy strip set. A HUGE splash erupted in what seemed like ten feet ahead of me, but my line came back and there was no mouse, or trout, on the other end. The fly had broken off, due to a bad terminal knot.
Not long after, Booter made his way down. I told him of the one that got away. He told me of the quick-mud that sent water into his waders. The reason they had taken so long was a couple trips back to the car and the sinking and watery feeling Boot had gotten trying to negotiate the bog.
Not long after, TP joined us, and we fished the boulder field with much opportunity but little success. I was able to land my first fish on a mouse, with the large hook impaling the fish's snout.
We headed toward the Club, with Boot and TP fishing one of the larger pools on the way. We eventually got to the big pool behind the Club. Here, TP found his Walter of the night. A 19" trout, with sharp teeth, tried to devour the fuzzy little mouse.
Date: April 29, 2007
Location: Eagle
Air temp: high 70s
Water temp: ??? (I really need to buy some new batteries)
Hatches: Caddis (amongst others)!
Fish landed: 4 browns
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
XanFruit Booter
It was an early morning run, getting to FB's at 6am. After going through the McD's drive-through for some much needed biscuit sandwiches, we headed for the Curd River.
We went upstream and got a few on nymphs before switching to the cursed dry fly. On a side note, Fruit asked me not to divulge the fact he fished a dry, but he also told me not to mention his "not just a crush" on Jazz Hands. However, these facts were too important not to be published on the internet.
We moved back to the car not long before noon so FB could get home and shop for sink fixtures and tile with his better half. We each hit a final spot before calling it. Fruit, just downstream from the bridge tossing a dry. Myself, upstream, nymphing the narrow riffle.
After landing a brown and flipping another, I made a short cast above a little cut on the bank. The indicator twitched, I set, and a big fish darted from its lie. As has been the case with most of the other larger fish I've hooked, this one's first move was to dive and stay low. I pulled it from side to side while trying to also move it downstream away from the rocks and current.
I called out to Fruit (I recall saying something to the effect of, "Check this out!", which was heard as, "Bring the bat.") and he came over to net the fish. He pulled the fly out and helped me transfer it to my net for a measure. It came close to 17" and had a nice heft. After "the incident," FB had redeemed himself verily with his support.
Which makes me feel somewhat bad that I outed his dry fly and man crush leanings.
Quasi-SLAFfy
