urban angler

Travel sure has a way of getting to me. It likes to grab a hold and shake me around a bit. It tries to persuade  me every time to fall for that simpler life. Caught somewhere between the rat race and suburbia is all I ever known. You don't just walk outside here and find yourself in the middle of some great and magical forest. Mountains are a pipe dream and an hours drive in any direction won't necessarily find you solitude either. Nope, it's Home depots, Targets, and Starbucks as far as the eye can see. Believe me, I know, we go through much more effort then that sometime just to get sufficiently "lost" around here.

What I do know is, we have countless opportunities in our area for catching a good bite. My family is here, my job is here, so what if all the big fish hang around the end of a treatment plant discharge pipe. I enjoy fishing breakwalls, dams, and concrete just fine. For me, I will catch anything that swims for a smile and am perfectly content to go on being an urban angler. Time spent in the backwoods will just be that much more special.

the victory spoils for an urban angler sure are nice

Now for a freaking fishing report-

Fished the Milwaukee down low yesterday. Fish were really spread out and I had to really put in a good hike. Funny how easy it is to catch fish once you get further away from parking then anyone else. Once I got away from everyone the fish seemed way more condensed. It wasn't long till I was into some fish. Both hit came from pink glo-bug eggs.

i almost forget where i am

The Milwaukee River, while it flows though the heart of the city, does a great job of hiding the hustle and bustle. Oddly enough the bad neighborhoods have some of the best fishing on the river...

just another day in racine

Two cars pull into the river access at almost the exact same time, one car carrying a solo angler and the other with a duo. I'm sure we've all been there, you look at the other group gearing up and can just tell they are heading for the same exact stretch of water as you were planning to fish. Sure, there is plenty of water in the park, but you have already eliminated all that other water in your brain on the trip over. The bridge was gonna be holding fish and that was "the spot" today. So what do you do? You do exactly what any other weekend angler who has been trained in combat fishing does, you put your gear on faster. Thank God you fish in hip boots and not the full body waders that the opposition is faced with. But wait, a momentarily lost streamer box puts you back to a neck and neck pace. Hurry, come on lets go!

Both groups finish at almost the exact same time and the solo fisherman looks over at the pair. "Please let them head down stream, please let them head down stream," the thought runs over and over in his mind. Sure enough, it's too good to be true. The pair shut their trunk and turn and head upstream just a few steps behind him. What does one do now? Do you quicken your pace and slide right in to the pool and risk some dirty looks?

Instead, he turns to the group and said, "Where you fellows fishing this morning?" The two turn and look at each other quite confused. It wasn't that hard of a question but it seemed to stop them dead in their tracks. After the uncomfortable silence dissipates, the reply come back in broken English, "The bridge." Sure enough, yours fears are made real. With no thought the solo angler concedes the spot, "Sure guys, have at it and I'll just move upstream." Not sure that his words were understood, the angler just turns and heads one pool up from the bridge.

For the next hour he watches these two fools from the next pool up. The duo managed to snag almost every rock with their large weighted dropper rigs and splashed through the pool with heavy feet trying to free their line. After an hour they reason that there must be no fish hanging out under the bridge and decide to move one pool down.

Finally given the chance, the patient angler slides down to the bridge pool and goes three for three on brown trout. Two nice fish and one stocker fall victim to the black streamer in the next hour all while the duo were forced to watch from the next pool down.

wisconsin great lakes brown trout

best fish caught from the bridge pool

This was just another day in Racine...

a mid november recap

salmon bones - all that is left from the run

I don't find myself having to play catch up here on my blog very often, well actually ever. This past November was of course filled with lots of hard work at the office, time with friends and family, Thanksgiving, black Friday shopping, launching a new website, and of course fishing. Despite all the things that go on in my sheltered little corner of the world, there is always time to wet a line. Fishing in general has been slow this month but consistent. Take a group of three guys out fishing, and one of them is guaranteed a fish but the question is who? Well lets take a look at the last few weeks and break it down a bit further.

a pretty root river steelhead stuffed with eggs

Trip #1- I fish the Root River alone for a peaceful morning searching out some trout. This was meant to be a scouting trip before meeting Neal and Paul on the same stretch of river the very next day. All morning goes by and without even a nibble, I decide to fish one last spot before calling it quits. Mending a pink estaz egg under heavy wood cover I get 2 hits from some very acrobatic trout. Steelhead to be exact. The tiny and more colorful of the 2 was the best looking colors I've seen on a fish ever and she was packed with roe. Her I harvested. The second was such a powerful and acrobatic fish that it took me out of the water airborne three separate occasions. I pulled the fish from the water and the adrenaline running through the fish was so intense that its muscles quivered over and over. Much respect for that battle so I turned it back. Awesome fight.

with much respect for its power, I turned this steelhead back

paul and his first trib brown trout

Trip #2- The very next day Paul, Neal, and I hit the same stretch of river anticipating some similar results. We found the conditions to be as tough as my previous day on the water. A whole lot of water was covered and finally Paul came up with a solid biter on an orange estaz. God, I love those flies. If there was one fly to use this fall... that has to be it. This fish was sitting in a fast water pool way down in the undercut. Paul has done a great job this year and has caught a brown, a steelie, a coho, and a king. Not bad for your first few month of learning the tribs. Well done buddy.

a whole lot of work went into this fish, he cost us 15 flies

Trip #3- Neal and Blake decide to work a pod of rising fish in the gnarliest spot ever imaginable. Two males were moving in and out of the pool with a giant fresh female sitting in its depth shaking eggs loose. The pool was tucked behind a tree trunk so very little water or current came directly though the center of the pool. The current was just tickling the edge of that pool but a large boulder just outside the pool obstructed a clean drift. Just over hanging the pool was a mess of tangles and branches just waiting to grab any fly that even came close. Believe me, many flies came close, too close. I alone retied 10 times not counting Neal. Stubborn as hell, we decided to stay. We tried adjusting angles and shortening leaders down to only a few feet. We added a ton of shot but even that couldn't get our flies into that tucked away pool. Neal, being the smart one, decided to drop the fly in from in front of the pool. It didn't take long before one of the males came up and slapped that estaz egg! What about the female you might ask? Sure he hooked her, but she proved to be too smart for us. Up and down the Root River she splashed giving Neal a serious run for his money. Just when you think you have it, you realize your not even close. That hen dogged him so hard under a stray branch and that was it. Snap went the line and airborn went the rod. At least he landed the male?

the one that gave us the eggs

Trip #4- Finding some fresh brown spawn has eluded us this fall. We have caught a more then usual amount of browns this year. The problem is the ones we are finding are either males or they have already been processed and are empty of eggs. This trip last weekend we decided to put ourselves in a better position and fish below the steelhead facility. No chance a fish down there has been processed. We took the cured steelhead spawn from trip #1 and floated some of the deeper pools in Lincoln Park with our fly rods, Just dragging bottom Neal got a great hit. He had just lifted the spawn over a rock when his indicator went down. Good decision on where to fish because we are now the proud owners of some fresh brown trout spawn that we are looking forward to dropping down some holes come this winter.

brown trout spawn

a ditch running some cold clean water into the Root

So, the last four trips we haven't left the Root one time. You can scan the pictures and say wow, impressive day but please understand that this is a culmination of 4 separate fishing trips. My sights have been fixed on getting back on the Milwaukee to wrap the season up. This week is bringing some arctic temperatures and if it hold like this I imagine it wont be long now till the hard water season kicks off. Stay tuned to see how we finish out this wonderful fall trib season and look forward to some winter ice fishing action with my best fishing partner Lucas. My 6 year old boy can't wait to get back on the water.

fishing just below the fish sanctuary on the Root River

corporate brown trout

milwaukee river brown trout

During the fall while I work, mind begins to wander to places far more cold, wet, and trout like. I can picture the exact runs where the fish are holding. The constant buzz of the water numbs my brain. My fingers run through the streamer box knowing exactly where they will stop. The air smells fresh and clean on my lungs and drives my adrenaline harder and faster. I know where to put my first cast and when to insert the appropriate mends. The take comes quick but not quick enough to get the feeling that it was easy by any means. Even in my own mind, the fishing is never fast. With a quick snap, I put a bend to my rod. It takes the length of a deep breath before I can feel the throb of a fish throwing headshakes up the line.

Day dreaming sometimes just isn't enough. I'm very thankful that my job has allowed me more recently to have a little more freedom. The brown trout was caught from the Milwaukee River last week after work. I day dreamed about him all day and knew exactly what to do, once I got there, to catch him.