\nWell I only harvest some\u2014Neil Young, from \u201cHarvest\u201d\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/h3>\n
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There is something about the descent into a trout valley in Southeast Minnesota that puts me in a good mood like few other things can.\u00a0 I started my journey on Saturday with the hopelessly boring drive on the highway south of the cities.\u00a0 The only thing of interest is the occasional stream that is passed over; I make sure I\u2019m in the right lane at every stream crossing so I can get the best view of the water below, helping to get a gauge on the overall water conditions for the area. I hit Rochester and find it to be more of an annoyance than anything [better watch your speed, cops have someone pulled over every time I\u2019m though on 52].\u00a0 At some point I get off the highway, at least now there are some interesting old farms and other curiosities but it is still a bleak landscape, painted by someone whose palette doesn\u2019t go beyond gray and tan.\u00a0 Then suddenly the road is pointing downhill.\u00a0 Down a steep hill.\u00a0 The colors spectrum changes from mostly gray to mostly green. Usually as I get close to my fishing destination my speed increases in anticipation of getting there, but today I find myself riding the brake though the valley\u00a0as I try to take it all in.\u00a0 There are several streams that come together here, and there are many people out enjoying the great day.<\/strong><\/p>\n My destination is a stream I have not been on before, and actually had very little info on other than some very limited second hand accounts.\u00a0 One key feature is that it is lightly fished due to lack of access points.\u00a0 I had Google Earthed the crap out of this stream, and the parking spot I was looking for was easy to find.\u00a0 I was disappointed that there were three other cars there.\u00a0 One vehicle had three generations of trout anglers about to head up the trail, they shared a bit of info with me, assuring me I would like what I found up in the valley.\u00a0 I was probably five minutes behind them on the trail, but they were nowhere in sight.\u00a0 The trail paralleled the river which was a few hundred yards away.\u00a0 Eventually the trail and river converged, and there were my buddies form the parking lot.\u00a0 I quietly slipped past them, walked hard for about ten more minutes and decided to start fishing.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n When I\u2019m on a new stream I fish very poorly. Or at least very quickly.\u00a0 I had no way of knowing exactly what was around the next bend, where the best water was, or where any other anglers were.\u00a0 Having fished a lot of streams I have learned that all trout streams tend to \u201cbehave\u201d in a similar manner, which means that the ways that pools and rifles are arranged on one stream will likely be repeated on a completely different stream.\u00a0 The stream had a strong \u201cLower Kinni\u201d vibe.\u00a0 Part of this was likely due to the hike up the valley, but there were a few riffles that had a twin on a different creek a hundred miles away.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n What flies worked the best here?\u00a0 I had no idea.\u00a0 As is usually the case, I had a black wooly bugger tied on from the last time out, and I made a few casts with it, but my MO on this type of water is to nymph my way upstream, and then bugger my way back.\u00a0 So, I changed up with a nymph and a cork but continued to fish fast.\u00a0 There was so much good looking water here that I just couldn\u2019t slow down.\u00a0 I would make a half dozen casts into \u201cthe juice\u201d [this is Gunnar\u2019s name for the \u201cspot-on-the-spot\u201d, as in \u201cQuit casting into that bullshit water and throw into THE JUICE!\u201d] and then march on to the next spot.\u00a0 It is hard to describe what the juice looks like, as it is different in each riffle or pool, but anyone who is an experienced angler will know what I mean.\u00a0 It usually involves an edge near the top of a run where the riffle comes in, where the current speed and depth are just right. \u00a0I found myself constantly alternating between looking back over my shoulder, anticipating other anglers coming upstream and straining to see what was up ahead. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Eventually I started catching fish.\u00a0 Not sure if it was because I had slowed down, found the magic fly [I was using a one-of-a-kind beadhead thing], or if I just got into better water, but this stream appeared to be filthy with trout.\u00a0 Most likely looking water would give up a few, and in a couple of spots I left them biting.\u00a0 I got to a point where the tasty water changed to flat \u201cgator water\u201d, and I figured it was a good point to stop and start fishing back.\u00a0 A break was in order, and I took my time eating a sandwich on a grassy bank.\u00a0 I thought about how glad I was to be fishing alone this day. \u00a0\u00a0I had asked my kids if they were up for trout fishing, but the response was less than lukewarm. \u00a0I had considered trying to hook up with a friend this day, but my schedule is unpredictable, and I never know what I\u2019m going to want to do, or where I\u2019m going to want to go. \u00a0Getting someone to put up with my unpredictability, and is willing and able to keep up, will have their own gear, know how to use it etc. is tough.\u00a0 I like fishing with others, especially on known water, but on this day I was glad to have all the adventure to myself. <\/p>\n Despite all of my marching and fish catching, the spectacle of a mature hardwood forest on a spring day was not lost on me.\u00a0 The forest floor was a green carpet speckled with millions of white flowers, reminding me of stars in the night sky. \u00a0I was wishing for a camera better than what is in my phone, but it would have to do. \u00a0I was keeping an eye out for morels, but never did find a single one.\u00a0 <\/p>\n![\"IMG_6201\"](\"http:\/\/wildsmallie.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/IMG_6201-300x200.jpg\")
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