Thoughts of My Own

     The little man squawked last night from his upstairs crib.  I  ascended the brown carpet to his room, finding him upright, reaching through the bars towards his favorite corner of blue-blanket that had somehow found its way to the floor.  I retrieved it for him and gave him one of those father-son squeezes that brought the inkling of a smile to the outside of his pacifier… as well as to the inside of my heart.  Quickly he was back asleep.

     I stood, more awake now it seemed.  I got to wondering what the future will hold for our little man?  Will he be good with words and letters like his 4 year-old sister?  Will he always laugh when the cat dodges his outstretched hands?  Will there be a fondness in his heart for the outdoors like his old man? 

     Will he be able to roll his tongue and pat his head while rubbing his tummy?  Will he be honest and responsible?  Will he protect his older sister when they are in high school together, and those senior boys start making jokes about her?

     Will he remember to aim at the back of the rim on his free throws and learn to keep his eye on that curveball when the count is 1 and 2?  Will he tackle with his eyes up and feet moving?  Will he be a leader or a follower?

 

     Man, there are sure a lot of ‘what ifs’ and ‘I hope so’ feelings involved with this whole Dad thing.   First things first; let’s just make sure that blue blanket stays in the crib for a little while longer. At least for tonight.

-TGI

New Beginnings

Nothing beats a good sunrise.  You’ve heard that one before, right?  It’s a nice thought, but not necessarily true.   There are quite a few things in my life that give streaks of crimsons and yellows and oranges of all shades, peaking over a hill a good run for their money.

In no particular order, the following come to my simple mind:

 I once used a yellow lab puppy to help me propose to my beautiful wife…and it worked!…A time or two over the years, there have been students or players who went out of their way to say thanks, and meant it…Sometimes I sing songs, and people dance, or even cry, and that’s pretty special…  When you enter the house after a long day and that same lab is there to greet you, all while fending off two special kids who are bear-hugging each leg…that’s priceless.

Sunrises get great competition from the feeling of watching a rising trout slurp in one of your homemade flies.  Or, picking a couple black queens in the blinds of a game of sheephead is nice.  As is finding a crumpled ten-dollar bill in the front pocket of your favorite jeans.

Sunrises do not make any promises.  They do, however, provide hope.  And hope is pretty darn special.  They give hope that you are going to be better today than you were yesterday.  Hope that you are going to get a couple things crossed off that bucket list.  Hope that just maybe, that co-worker who gets under your skin, will be out of the office today.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love sunrises.  And fortunately, I live in a place where there are some special ones, so hopefully you do as well. Or at least places you can visit.  Here’s a few local attractions.

I love to see fog starting to burn off a duck marsh in the Tiffany Bottoms. There’s not a painting sweeter than a patch of water cress and brook trout fins in the foreground, as the Pine Creek Valley comes to life.  It would be worth your while to scan the bluffs to the north of Merrick State Park; blazing orange as the sun announces its presence; giving a hint that it may darn well slow down the now frantic pan fish bite.

There are things that beat a good sunrise…but not many. 

Kids, Fishing & Small Fry Constellations

     With help from Jerry Wilber, the following rambling made me smile.  Hopefully it strikes a nerve or brings back a memory or two for you.  I thought of some very special people when writing this. First and foremost my own father. Growing up he always made time to take me fishing and teach me about the precious outdoors.  We were able to spend a few hours of boat time this weekend!  Hopefully his promised retirement produces even more time for us to figure out some fish together. THANK YOU DAD!                                       

                                                        

     Next I think of 'Grandpa Guy.'  Oh those countless trips to the cabin north of Rice Lake.  Pulling in  bluegills as fast as you could get your bobber to plop down near that special patch of lily pads 40 feet to the left of the old green dock.

     Finally I see good friend Dave Peterson.  He has a passion to get kids (his own and others) excited about enjoying the wild around us.  He is a great role model for those of us, who would rather selfishly keep our fishing holes, turkey blinds and deer stands to ourselves.

Small Fry Constellations

      I have taken kids fishing, and I believe the philosophy of it to be a sound one. But there are many things that go along with taking a kid fishing.  Most of it has little to do with wetting a line.  I've built castles in the sand and roasted marshmallows.  I used to be good at stone skipping, but now a 4 or 5 is the best I can do.  I am a bit nervous about other prerequisites of kids' fishing trips.  You know, like cannonballing from a limb of a riverside pine tree, or banging a couple rocks together to start a campfire after gathering enough kindling.

     I'll probably be able to beat most of these kids in arm wrestling...maybe.  I'll lose the contest of holding your breath under water.  Though I'm not as quick as I once was, I'll hold my own in catching frogs and painted turtles... I am smart enough to leave the snappers alone. That race to the top of the bluff and back...well count me in, albeit bringing up the rear.

    Yet, like those kids, I will still toss and turn in a sleeping bag waiting for the treasures that a wild sunrise will bring.  I will spit on my knot before tightening it on the hook shank like my Dad taught me.  I will go without fear, 2 miles upstream, or paddle to the far end of the lake, or make a portage, or cross a 40 degree river in shorts if it gets me and my fishing parnter a better shot at a trophy. 

                                                                    
    In my mind I will forever keep the following: the sounds of a morning filled with the cries from loons; the sound of bacon sizzling over a campfire; and the gentle splash of a canoe paddle as it enters the crisp gin colored water.

     Like the kids, I will marvel at the flaming colors of native brook trout.  I will search carfefully for the pie-plate shapes of spawing bluegill beds.  I will truly enjoy a shore lunch on paper plates with my friends of all ages. And certainly, I will be reluctant to call it quits when it is time to head back home...back to the real world.

    A person could do worse, I suppose, than go fishing with kids. You should take the time to try it.

     I could take up a couple pages in listing those who I thought of during this rambling. For sure Dad, Grandpa Guy, and Dave Peterson from above.  For those that don't see your name, please know your were in my thoughts as well:  Grandpa Lowell, Uncles Brian and Kurt, Little Denee, Big Hoff, Griz, 'Split Lake Jimmy,' Gilly, Johnny B, Lester and the Chippewa River Crew.

Thank you all-

-TGI

Fast Approaching

    

Good Friday is fast approaching.  Now, this is not a religious point of view or ramble of any sorts.  But when I was little, Good Friday meant  some important things.  There was going to be a couple short weeks of school.  Our family was soon to get together with extended family for an Easter Feast.  The trout season was getting closer and it was time to gather night crawlers and dig red worms for bait.   Most importantly it meant helping make maple syrup.

For you city slickers out there, Mrs. Butterworth’s  or Log Cabin may seem fine enough on top of your pancakes, waffles, or French toast.  But I assure you…tasting true homemade maple syrup is in a class all by itself. 

You can buy it in local groceries and small shops now.  The Plum City Bank use to have some for sale, as did the Bitter Sweet Bakery.  For the small price sacrificing your first-born child, or taking out a second mortgage, you could probably afford a few gallons to last the whole year for you and the rest of the family.  (The good stuff is not cheap!)

Ah, but the joy of tapping trees, collecting the sap, cutting the wood to stoke the fires that would reduce down one of natures pure pleasures!  You haven’t truly had real maple syrup until you have taken part in the time-tested rituals that surround its existence. 

Have you struggled on a steep, snow covered, north-facing side hill, to drill the maples and insert the taps?  Have you ran your hands along the miles plastic tubing, checking for red and gray squirrel nibbles, to be sure that once the clear sugar starts dripping it goes to collecting tanks and not on the forest floor?  Better yet, have you toiled with metal 5 gallon buckets, one over each arm, trying to not lose your boots in shin deep mud, before getting back to a horse drawn wagon?

Have you been a spectator to a game of 3 handed pinochle, played by fathers, uncles, or grandpas, while the sap boiled, waiting patiently to turn that correct color of amber? 

 It’s been nearly three decades since I was in the middle of all those things.  However, a couple spoonfuls of the ‘good stuff’ on vanilla ice cream, or a heated drizzle’s worth covering a square of mom’s homemade cornbread, and I am back on that side hill. 

The smell of wood smoke lingers.  There is a hound asleep inside the cabin door. Plum Creek gurgles below, as the crew gathers to shed long sleeved flannels and welcome the warming March sun to young boy’s heaven on earth. The only thing sweeter than the syrup itself, are the memories I carry with me.

--TGI

Rain Drops

On the way into work today a single raindrop collided with the cracked windshield of my rusty Dodge 4x4.  It was an innocent enough of an occurrence for a springtime Monday. But it got me thinking.  There are billions of raindrops in even the smallest of showers.  Each one has a purpose I guess, though quite small. 

Collectively, raindrops can turn things green- can help things grow- can settle the dust and cool the air during the dog days of August.  So I got to digging even deeper, and wondered about special raindrops…you know, the lucky ones.

How about that drop that finds its way into a mountain stream?  He is able to have a front row seat as caddis flies and blue wings emerge.  The trout soon begin to feed, as that drop floats along.  Perhaps an aging fly fisherman delicately presents his offerings to the dimples and fins on the surface…fooling one terrifically spotted 18 incher, the man gently guides the fish to hand after a brief battle.  The drop sees a wide smile below the wrinkles of the fisherman’s eyes.  The man gently releases the fish and gives a nod to the heavens like he has done around 9000 times before, as a way of saying thanks.  He returns to false-casting thinking he is alone, but that raindrop is a witness.

 

Then there is that lucky raindrop that finds herself in a small puddle near a playground.  She is able to enjoy the squeals of  laughing children, the scolding of a distant grandmother telling Bobby, “You’re going to catch a cold,” and then, when the ruckus has settled down, is able to get a good look at the red bellied robins catching a sip before heading to their nests. 

There are other lucky raindrops out there too. Ones that find themselves smack dab in the middle of wedding ceremonies, or quiet walks at dusk, or the ones preceding rainbows.  Sometimes a lucky one even finds himself on a shoulder of hiker, or a canoe paddler exploring beautiful lands and water.

 Out of those billions, I bet a raindrop or two have settled down briefly on a strutting tom’s fan, or on the colorful crown of a drake wood duck before getting shaken off.   

 It makes me realize that I am not a drop of rain. But by looking close enough, and taking the time to think, there are miracles in front of us to behold each day. Even if it is through the cracked windshield of a rusty Dodge 4x4.


-TGI

Top Water Tactics



We are fortunate enough to live in 'downtown' Lund, WI and be only minutes from Pool 4 on the Mighty Miss, and just a few miles from the Lower Chippewa River section.  Both of these waters provide excellent topwater action for several species from early summer through fall.

Lake Pepin comprises the majority of Pool 4 waters.  Although the walleye and sauger fishing gets most of the attention, the bass fishing is also outstanding.   Miles of rip rapped shore and various wing dams and current breaks throughout the  section are prime areas to probe for smallies.  Early June through August gives anglers a large window to get bronze backs on the top.  Pitch your favorite topwater choice close to shore structure, points, eddies, and weedlines throughout the system, and get ready to do battle with many fish in the 13-16 inch class.  The nice thing about Pool 4 is that trophy fish of 20 inch plus are also a possibility.



Largemouths will also inhabit some of the same areas. But if you are a fan of Mr. Bucketmouth, you'll want to focus more on the lower end of Pool 4 and the many backwaters around Nelson, Alma, and Wabasha, MN.   Pads, grass, cabbage, current, closing dams, bridges, brush, slough  channels, and flats abound... and they will hold lots of fish if you put your time in. Buzzbaits, and frogs are solid choices for largies, as they are a bit more weedless.

The Chippewa offers excellent smallmouth fishing, a few muskies and best of all great scenery with very little fishing pressure.  Again focus on rip rap shores, sand breaks, current edges, and logs to hold the smallies. Depth is a relative term on fast flowing rivers, so many times 3 feet of water is enough.  Pitch bright colored chug bugs or Pop-R's slightly up stream and tight to cover. Keep your rod low enough so you have some leverage to set the hook when the violent strike occurs.

There are muskies to be had on the Chippewa as well, with the stretches between Eau Claire and the point where the Red Cedar River enters holding the most fish.  Late summer is prime time for the 'fish of 10,000 casts' but believe me... it won't take that many :)

See below for some of my go to topwater selections.  Tight Lines all!

Bass Favorites

From 11 o'clock position:

Silver chug bug, Fire blue chug bug, Fire Tiger Pop R, Black Spro Paddle Frog, Fire Tiger PR Pop.

Musky Favorites

From Top:  Mouldy's Topper Stopper, Cisco Kid (black), Poes Top Raider (Black/Orange)

On the Top Fishing = Over the Top Excitement

Ah... a fish on the end of a line.  Fun for all ages for sure.  There are so many many ways to catch fish--- jigging, rigging, bobbers, tight lining, trolling, drifting, casting, cranking, snapping, dragging, pitching, flipping, netting, noodling, bottom bouncing, and high lining...just to name a few.



However, if I had to choose 1 method to catch fish for excitement, it wouild surely be top water fishing.

Top water action can be had from trout to musky, from panfish to pike, and everything in between.

Check back soon for some tips and my favorite baits, tactics, and locations to have some top water success here in Western Wisconsin.