Three bearded guys in a boat.

So we went up and spent the day with my parents along with my aunt and uncle on Goose Lake.  We had a great time hanging out, showed off my new motorcycle (a 2008 Yamaha Raider) to my parents.  Both seemed genuinely impressed.  For Easter dinner, dad worked his magic in the kitchen and made his great fried fish.  A huge serving of crappies along with the various salads made for a great feast.

 

photo provided by Trails.com

Afterwards, dad and uncle Keith and myself went out on dads boat and headed over to the crappie spot to see if we could replenish what we ate.  They handed me this thing called a spinning rod.  It was missing at least four feet of length and had this funny kind of real called an open face real.  Sure can't fly fish with this, especially with that slip bobber thing and crappie spinner jig at the end.  Dad assured me that the rod was the right length and to start fishing.

 

Luck was not on our side.  All that was caught was a bass in the first five minutes.  Dad claims that made him the best fisherman in the boat.  I countered that he was the worst since he caught something we were not targeting.  Uncle Keith shook his head and chuckled at the two of us.  I think he was just happy that I had taken over his anchor duties...something about he'd kept forgetting to bring it up every time dad wanted to change locations.  They had been fishing the previous two days with same amount of luck we were having, only with some added anchor drama.  The debate over who the best fisherman in the boat continues.  At least until we go fishing again.

A couple of hours on the water and we headed back to the dock, fishless and happy.

 

Weather:

a little breezy,

a little cool,

lots of sun, and

good fun.

 

Lake:

a little stained and in the 50's.

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Deer camp

So two weekends ago, I went up to visit deer camp over opener to see old friends and my dad.  It was good to see the usual suspects and that they were all doing pretty well.  It had been a year or more since seeing some of them, and it was nice to hang out and bond with the traditional card games, story telling, and good natured ribbing.  Hunting-wise, the weekend didn't turn out so well, one eight-pointer (shot by Dean) out of six deer hunters in the 20-25mph winds is all we got.  I didn't do to well either, instead of deer hunting I bought a small game license and brought the 20 gauge over & under in hopes of getting a grouse or black squirrel for tying flies.  I find that grouse hunting is more enjoyable to me because I can relax as I put less pressure on myself when I am not competing for a deer in an acreage that isn't exactly overpopulated.  I only flushed one grouse, and it was gone before I could get a bead on it.  I also kicked up deer twice in some thick underbrush.  And both times I could not hear it running off into the woods even though it was within 20 yards of me.  I watched it's white flag bob back in forth out of sight completely stunned that I didn't even hear so much as a twig snap.  The odds were not in our favor this time. 

Even though the hunting wasn't so great, I did get to see a bald eagle circle over me just above the tree tops.  The highlight of the weekend was Carmi's video footage from her deer stand.  She captured a couple minutes of a grouse by her stand and almost ten minutes of footage of a bobcat chilling out.  It appeared to know that Carmi was there, but really didn't care.  It napped, it stalked a bird, and it stared at the camera, before scooting away.  Earlier in the day, the land owner had seen two adult bobcats and a kitten from his stand.  Very exciting stuff! 

As for the increasing stories and evidence of wolf sign in the area, I was not as impressed.  One pack of wolves actually treed an acquaintance of ours a few weeks earlier when he was bow hunting for deer across the lake from where we were hunting. 

As of last night, I heard that Dean got a button buck, making for two deer total for the camp.  Dad is still up there, so hopefully with a little luck he will get one too.  I'll cross my fingers for him anyway.

Steelhead closes tomorrow and we did not go fishing for them since my last post.  So now we wait till next fall to resume that game.  This weekend consisted of prepping the house for winter and freeing up space by bringing a lot of stuff over to our storage unit.  We did a pretty good job with our to-do list, but I am saving the Fly Tying room (a.k.a. the man room) for this coming weekend.  It might only be one room, but it needs a lot of attention.  It is in total disarray with fishing stuff, camping gear, and hunting clothes strung all over.  I think I can see what color the carpet is, sorta, maybe. Okay, I can't.  But, I do have memories of what it should look like once it is back in good order and prepped for fly tying season. 

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A Good fall so far

So the weekend before last Jen and I got our first steelhead fishing weekend under our belt.  That weekend was the annual St Paul Fly Tier's steelhead outing and to keep things manageable for our group we broke up into smaller groups.  Jen and I fished with Louise over the weekend and had a lot of fun.  The best thing about the weekend is that we get to see so many people that we haven't seen in awhile and is a lot like a fun family reunion.  Jen caught a steelhead on Saturday and was in the minority of successful fisherman we found out as everyone shared their stories of the day over an awesome feast that Tony prepared for the club.

On Sunday, the weather was the same as the day before, which was sunny and windy, with a windchill in the low 30's.  Louise had to leave by a certain time to get back home in her final hour before she had to leave the river she landed a 26" chrome steelhead.  She was very excited!  Congrat's Louise!!!

On Monday, I had the day off and had planned to go fishing with Mike and dad for smallmouth.  Dad and I met up with Mike as he was doing final prep work on the boat at the landing.  Everything went pretty well except someone turned the wind machine on HIGH.  We struggled through some pretty heavy wind and it made for a challenging situation.  But the three of us had a great time joking around and we did have a few bites.  Mike landed a few smallie's and I managed to land one, but dad lost a very nice one.  NO, I didn't cut the line on him.  We did get a glimpse of it, and it would have made for a good picture.  Instead, I have put in a nice photo of dad and I with a bass and the lure we caught it on.  The funny thing was he was convinced the white lures were not on the menu for the bass that day and that chartreuse was the ticket...oops!

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A Sunday with Dad

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.