Paul
Harvey used to have his afternoon news reports broadcast over the radio. I remember listening to them. In particular is the memory of standing at my
Grand-dad’s workbench, in the tack room of the barn, up at their farm on
Lansing Avenue. I don’t recall what we’d
been working on; probably sharpening some tool so that we could cut something
down after lunch. I do remember the
radio being on, and listening to the news or the story of someone whose name
wouldn’t be revealed until the very end, when he would say, “And now you know the
rest of the story. This is Paul
Harvey. Good day!”
Being
six days out from having been socked with sixteen inches of snow for our first
snowfall of the year, I reflected back on a few trout fishing trips that I didn’t
write about in my blog this season.
In the midst of the Storm
The
first was from a father/son trip to Marquette County, in Wisconsin, back on
Thursday, July 2nd. I
actually did write about that trip, but due to the loss of the school’s camera
I had used on the trip, I didn’t have all of the pictures and videos documenting
it. (Past Entry: "Thanks for Nothing") This fall, while teaching, I
suddenly got an email at school. It was
from a man living just across the Stateline in Beloit. After a series of emails back and forth, he
returned our camera that he had found on the ground after my family had left
the 4th of July fireworks show.
Apparently I had left it next to where we were sitting. After using the camera this fall to take
pictures of his daughter at her school’s homecoming, he went to download the
pictures, and saw my last name printed on the memory card. When he did a search of my name, up popped my
email and the contact was made. It was a
miracle to get it back, and now you know the rest of that story…
Sunrise on the Way to Adventure
Thirteen Inch Brown Trout
White Pine
Tamarack
Sugar Maple
British Soldier Lichen
Bankside Wildflowers
Currents on the Water
Reflections
Ripple in the Shallows
Finishing the Day
Sunset on the Way Home
The
second undocumented trip came in the late afternoon of Tuesday, August 25th. It was at a secret creek that I was able to
get to; an hour or so before the sun set.
In the beginning I saw three really big browns in the same run. None hit solid, but more or less played with
their “food” (my spinner). I finally
managed to hook an 8” brown that I quickly released. Later I caught a 17” brown. I took a picture and then released this one
also, after working to get it back into the water and feeling good about its
revival. Within the next couple of feet
I caught two 10” browns that I decided to keep.
At the next big bend, my turn around point, I pitched up under some over
hanging grass on the far bank.
Immediately there was a wake and surge, and I had a thick 18” brown on
the line. It jumped several times and
was a load to bring up and into my hand.
Due to the fight and the size of the trout, I didn’t take any pictures
but elected to perform a quick release.
It was a fun trout to catch and hold briefly due to its size and
spunk. Typically when I turn around in a
creek, “that’s that”, and I’m finished.
This time I worked my way back to the run I started at just an hour
before. Within a cast or two I hooked
into a beautiful 16” brown. I ended up
having to keep that one as I couldn’t get the hook out very well. In fact, while trying to, I actually ended up
breaking off one of the barbs on my spinner.
With the time and stress on the fish to do this, I didn’t feel right
releasing it. This still wasn’t one of the big browns I had originally seen in
that run, as one of those jumped at a fly while I was working on the 16 incher,
and sounded like someone was chucking firewood into the creek. It was a lot of action in a short amount of
time, and now you know the rest of that story…
The
third of my unwritten summer trips came on a tributary of the Sugar River on
Sunday, August 30th. We had
had a lot of rain the previous day or so, but I felt like I’d still be able to
hit some potentially deep bends, and possibly wrestle some big browns out as
the autumn spawn was quickly approaching.
The wading, as it turned out, was difficult and deeper that I’d
expected. I spent more time hiking in and
out of the river, or walking past sections that would have been above my waders,
than actually fishing. When I did have
an opportunity to get in and start pitching my spinner ahead to dark pools and
grassy overhangs, my pole busted. This
was the second pole I’d broken this year (this one right at the sleeve
joint). Either it’s the cheaper poles,
or catching bigger fish periodically on these ultra lights; or just plain bad
luck. It happened on a light snag. When I lifted my pole it simply bent in half
as the fiberglass tubing gave away.
Luckily the sunset was beautiful.
It was a lot of work with not a lot of payoff, and now you know the rest
of that story…
My
next unwritten outing came on Monday, September 7th; the morning of
Labor Day. I fished my “Home Creek” for
two hours and only caught a few chubs, and saw one massive snapping turtle,
before I finally managed to catch and release my first little brown trout. (Past Entry: "Home" Waters) Soon after that first catch I did have one
decent hit, but I didn’t set the hook well and I lost him. I decided to back out and have my morning
lunch on a log that had once fallen across the creek. When I had eaten and rested a spell, I worked
my way back to where I had just missed the brown trout. By the time I’d had my fifth cast, I had him
back on. It measured at 14 ½
inches. I quickly released him after a
picture; the least I could do for stalking him.
It ended in that way, as a good morning, and now you know the rest of that
story…
The
last of my unwritten outings came as an end of the season run, with my Dad, on
a creek we’ve had marginal success on, but always feel as though it has
potential. It’s not too far from the
Kettle Moraine State Forest. We went on
Tuesday, September 29th following a day of teaching. We listened to each other, made an attempt at
casting, but probably spent more time simply catching up and letting each other
talk, than concentrating on what we were doing.
Apparently the trout realized it and took the night off too. We did not see or catch any sight of one the
entire night. The evening was beautiful,
however, and so we fished and talked until dark. We even found a different section we could
fish in the future, and shared some of our knowledge with a young man who also
was fishing that same creek as part of his end of the season run. Sometimes the season isn’t about the fish, and
now you know the rest of that story…
Five
unwritten trips. Five trips previously
undocumented. Five trips with all of the
highs, lows and mundaneness of trout fishing.
It makes the season what it is, and now you know the rest of the story.
Happy
Thanksgiving; and we do have much to be thankful for!
The
third of my unwritten summer trips came on a tributary of the Sugar River on
Sunday, August 30th. We had
had a lot of rain the previous day or so, but I felt like I’d still be able to
hit some potentially deep bends, and possibly wrestle some big browns out as
the autumn spawn was quickly approaching.
The wading, as it turned out, was difficult and deeper that I’d
expected. I spent more time hiking in and
out of the river, or walking past sections that would have been above my waders,
than actually fishing. When I did have
an opportunity to get in and start pitching my spinner ahead to dark pools and
grassy overhangs, my pole busted. This
was the second pole I’d broken this year (this one right at the sleeve
joint). Either it’s the cheaper poles,
or catching bigger fish periodically on these ultra lights; or just plain bad
luck. It happened on a light snag. When I lifted my pole it simply bent in half
as the fiberglass tubing gave away.
Luckily the sunset was beautiful.
It was a lot of work with not a lot of payoff, and now you know the rest
of that story…
My
next unwritten outing came on Monday, September 7th; the morning of
Labor Day. I fished my “Home Creek” for
two hours and only caught a few chubs, and saw one massive snapping turtle,
before I finally managed to catch and release my first little brown trout. (Past Entry: "Home" Waters) Soon after that first catch I did have one
decent hit, but I didn’t set the hook well and I lost him. I decided to back out and have my morning
lunch on a log that had once fallen across the creek. When I had eaten and rested a spell, I worked
my way back to where I had just missed the brown trout. By the time I’d had my fifth cast, I had him
back on. It measured at 14 ½
inches. I quickly released him after a
picture; the least I could do for stalking him.
It ended in that way, as a good morning, and now you know the rest of that
story…
