So the morning started out overcast and misty, and 50 degrees F. Dad pulled into the drive way, where we grabbed his stuff and added it to my Tahoe that I packed up earlier with gear and beer. We were on the road a little after 7am to our first trout stream.
The mist let up along the drive, but the day remained overcast the whole time. We wadered up and surprisingly we didn't forget anything important. At the first spot I wanted to fish, there was spin fisherman who had already staked it out. We moved down to the next run and at the invitation of Bill, the son of the previous fisherman we saw. After a quick chat we tried our luck there.
I set dad up in position and coached him through his first casts with the fly rod. He worked his way through the stretch and had a few takes on wet flies which was fun. We continued to fish for awhile longer and then decided to move on to another river.
The second place was very scenic and loaded with red wing black birds singing away. we worked the water over coming back to a shallow run that had three different pods taking emergers. One pod under a tree, and the other two down stream. I managed to bring in a small brookie from under the tree, and dad had several strikes from the other two pods up until they all decided to ignore any of the offerings he cast to them. It was frustrating and fun all at the same time. By this time it was 12:30pm, so we headed over to Martel, WI where my St. Paul Fly Tiers were putting on a stream side lunch for club members and friends.
It was a good turnout, and I got to see many friends I hadn't seen in long while, as well as some I see regularly. Lunch was baked beans, chips, brats, and very good sour kraut. I introduced dad to many of the attendees, and yes he probably won't remember most of them; but it was still fun.
With brats in the bellies and legs rested, dad and I headed over and fished our final stretch of the day. I set him up with a nymph rig to see what would happen. He managed a few more strikes as well as bringing in an 8" brown as well as a 12" sucker.
We fished a little longer, but it was obvious to me by watching the fish below, that they had stopped feeding in this area. We called it a day and headed back towards home. When we went past the Martel bridge, I saw Jackie getting ready to go fishing, so we stopped in and chatted with her for the better part of a half hour. It was good to see her, I think the last time we got to talk was December or January. We said our good byes and went our separate ways.
Dad seamed happy, except for when he saw the turkeys waving at him in the fields. Something about not having been able to get one hunting yet or something along those lines.
Hopefully next time I can get him on some hungrier trout so that he can feel that magical tugging sensation on the other end of that funny fly rod thing.