"Oh, you're trying to hook them in the mouth?" (Green report)


must escape the warren
"Oh, you're trying to hook them in the mouth?"
"Oh yes, with this hook and these feathers."

The morning began on the shortest day of the year with me in the Whitney Bridge parking lot on the Green. And after that memorable and humorously brief conversation, I hit the water.

I hadn't fished this stretch of river in months, so I figured to go with a sinktip and a purple / black spey I tied last night.

The fish were all over. And they stunk. Lots of spawning activity, lots of happy gulls, one great blue heron who wouldn't bless me with its froggy croak, and no other fishermen seen on the water.

I wandered down a side channel, sticking mostly to the mud. The good gravel had fish all over it. I did not want to disturb them too much. When I reached the point where the main flow picked up this trib, I threw one cast upstream into the main flow. The moment the fly came under tension I had a fish on.

I could tell it wasn't a steelhead, in the same way you can tell when you haven't hooked into a rainbow on the Yak. It felt like, I don't know, a tremendously oversized whitefish. That's not to knock this chum - I had to sink the boots in to bring it off the bottom, and he was relatively fresh and strong. My arm was getting tired, and the rod was bent to the seat the whole time. A few runs got my pulse up, and I was simply overjoyed at having hooked into this fish. The take was obvious, and that it hit my "Minnesota Viking" spey was icing on the cake ("what the... something ate a fly I tied?!?"). When it was near my feet, I final dash on its part snapped my rod tip, which was only something else to make this memorable. Not something to be upset or disappointed about. Warranty cards are a good thing. Post office lines this time of year are not.

Tomorrow I get on a plane, bound for the frozen tundra of the upper midwest. The memory of this morning already has me itching for the return flight!

Happy holidays :thumb:

Nice words! Fun to read. Thanks for being careful with our fish--hell, they are as much yours as ours. But isn't the Northwest just great! I just love it here. Don't tell anyone of your experience. Say that it rained constantly and you were rudely treated. And vow that you would never move here. Tell them this. And then one day, make your escape and come and join us!

Bob, the You can fish next to me. :thumb:


must escape the warren

I speak fondly of the rain to the family back east; but I do tell everyone about the ridiculous quantities of litter found in otherwise unexpectedly beautiful places :(
So maybe that'll keep them at bay.

Glad you guys enjoyed reading the report. I enjoyed sharing it. This was a very nice morning.

They may be somebody's fish, Bob, but I'm not laying claims to ownership on them just yet! But I gladly accept that they are ours to protect. That's a way to state the sentiment that sits better with me :thumb:

I've lived here nearly 5 years... Wisconsin is now relegated to a place with familial ties that I love and visit.


"But I gladly accept that they are ours to protect. That's a way to state the sentiment that sits better with me."

Nicely put and iagree

Bob, the Used to work in Minnesota out of Cedar Lake on the Minneapolis and St. Louis R.R. :cool:

Old Man

Just an Old Man
There is nothing wrong with Wisconsin except that I was born there. But that was a long time ago and I've never ever gone back. Left there in 1944.