Summer Solstice

            This past Monday was what is commonly referred to as the summer solstice.  Upon looking at various Google sites, I found that the Latin word for this is solstitium.  “Sol” means the sun, and “Stitium” means to stop.  It makes sense.  It is on this particular day that the sun ceases to arc into the northern sky as it rises in the east and sets into the west.  By being in this most northerly arc, based on our Earth’s revolution around the sun, it creates the longest day of the year.  It is opposite of the winter solstice, and the shortest day of the year that I wrote about in December (click here for the link to that entry: Winter Solstice).  So, from this day forth, until the end of this year, the days will now grow shorter as the rising and setting of the sun sinks towards the southern horizon.  This solstice coincided with a full moon, something that had not happened for seventy-some years.  This month’s moon is known as the strawberry moon, and coupled together with there being the most amount of sunlight; it made a perfect recipe for a day-long adventure.  I decided to go trout fishing on a favorite creek two hours north, in the middle of Wisconsin.

            After Cindy and I celebrated a fine Father’s Day with our parents and family, I began to prepare and pack.  I finished early enough that I was able to get to bed at a reasonable hour; at least it was reasonable compared to past standards.  After sleeping for about four hours, I started to stir.  I tried to lay back down, but inside I knew it was a done deal; it was time to rise and head to the North.  I got up, dressed, and packed my cooler with food that I had gotten ready beforehand.  I was out the door by 3:15 and only stopped once to fill up with gas in Janesville (it was cheaper there by six cents a gallon).  Passing Camping World northwest of Madison, around 4:20, I saw their huge American flag.  I wondered how much that thing weighed.  I wondered if there are bigger sized flags than that one.  It certainly is patriotic, and in lieu of some of the things going on in today’s world, I like it.  I’d like to think that I recognize it for all it stands for and represents (usflag.org).

Heading North into the Light

            I continued north and arrived in the gravel parking lot by 5:23.  I was pretty sure I would have the area to myself, and I did.  I got my supplies laid out, got into my waders and boots, and began the hike soon after.  I did stop before plunging into the brush, to apply a coating of bug spray high in DEET.  I always hate to put bug spray on, and have been known to endure (bug spray-free) some pretty crazy situations, where the mosquitoes and deerflies would drive most people mad, but until the wind picked up a bit I decided to be proactive.  I chose an entry point just beyond where I’ve gotten in before; expecting that over the course of the next few hours I would work my way upstream and back to my Jeep.  I was in the water and making my first cast by 6:15.  The sun was just cresting the tree tops, but shadows remained on the bends.

            Deep, dark bends exist in this section.  Although the water was cloudy for some reason, with patience and stamina I made it through, and back to the bridge near where I had parked.  I didn’t catch or see anything huge.  I have fished a lot of little creeks and have been surprised by the size of the fish that have come from them.  For that reason I’ve convinced myself that big trout exist in this creek, because there is a lot more water available.  What I caught were nine brown trout.  Their sizes were: 9, 14, 6, 7, 10, 11, 9, 7, and 11 inches.  Nine fish for about six hours of fishing.  It was not great, but enough to keep me going; there was always hope up around the bend.  I kept the 14 inch brown and released the rest.  I was pretty whipped when I crawled out of the water, but after eating my lunch (sandwich, yogurt, and a chunk of cheese), and resting a bit by sitting on the back of my Jeep in the shade, I recovered enough to have another go at it.

A Fourteen Inch Brown Trout

            With my waders still on, but pushed down to my feet, I decided to drive a few miles northwest to a narrower, headwater section of the same creek.  It was midday now, and I thought that with the clear, sunny skies, I might have better luck in this more wooded, enclosed, and shady section.  I fished for three more hours; rumbling, tumbling, stumbling, and bumbling in a tangle of brush.  I managed three more fish; two nine inch and an eleven inch brown trout.  I released them all.  It was a lot of work and my patience was growing thin as my fuel tank neared empty.

            Coming back through the woods to where my Jeep was parked took the last of what I had.  I took my waders off, put my stuff away, and ate what I had brought for a dinner (brat, apple sauce, and crackers).  I then drove back to my original spot where I had started the day, after checking out a few other spots I may be able to fish in the future.  I needed a nap and so I parked in the gravel lot on the west side of the road.  This way the towering white pines would provide me with some shade.  I rolled the windows down, propped open the rear hatch of my Jeep, laid my sleeping bag out at an angle in the back, and proceeded to lay face down and fall asleep to the sound of the breeze in the pine boughs.  It was the same breeze that had kept the bugs at bay all day.  Later my wife asked me how I can sleep like that when I’m out in an unknown area, and all by myself.  I’ll admit that I’ve thought about that before, but like the advice most parents give their kids who are afraid of something, “They’re more afraid of you than you are of it.”  I’m not sure how much that helps squelch a child’s fear, but I guess I assume most people wouldn’t approach a Jeep parked in a lot with the windows and backdoor open and bare feet sticking out of it.  I guess the site of what I must look like to people who might nose around, helps ward off the riff-raff.  Plus, I wake to most noises I hear.  I’m usually so tired by that point, however, that I really don’t give a rip if someone happens by; it’s exhaustion through elation because I’ve had the chance to do what I love to do.

            I slept for an hour, and then groggily rose and started getting my gear together for an evening outing.  I texted my wife to let her know what was going on, and that I was trying to muster the energy to get back in the water one more time to fish the shadows of dusk.  In doing so, I thought about having to drive back in the dark verses arriving back at home as it became dark.  I decided to call it a day.  It was 6:30, so I’d been out for over twelve hours that day; this longest day of the year.  I stopped for an ice cream cone before I got back on the highway, using change from the center console of my Jeep.  I arrived home a little after 9:00.  I had started the day before the sun was up and finished after it had gone down.  It was a great day to celebrate the stoppage of the sun in its most northerly path; the summer solstice.

See you along The Way…

The Setting Sun

The Rising Moon