“Where do you want to fish today?”
“I don’t know, you got any ideas?”
“Let’s go over to the campground and see if anyone’s there…”
“Whatever.”
Indecision
That was more or less the exchange between Anthony & I as we rustled around the house on Saturday morning, day two of the Driftless. We had lots of ideas kicking around our indecisive Gen-X heads of where we could fish, but were far from being definitive in our actions. I guess when you’re in the Shire, laser sharp focus isn’t one’s top priority. Simply going with the flow is a more appropriate tempo.
We rolled into the campground around 8:30 or 9:00 AM to find some of the anglers out for the day already, but others leisurely gathered and chatting away the morning. It quickly became apparent that everyone remaining at camp was of the same non-committal mindset as us, so after a bit of banter Anthony & I decided to take a little drive and give a spot we were both somewhat familiar with a try. The sun was already high in the bluebird sky; a fools errand? Perhaps.
A Slow Start
After a short cruise of the alphabet lettered country roads we arrived at our location, geared up, and headed downstream. Anthony dropping in a bit lower than I. I had fished this location a few years earlier under very different circumstances – much higher water and far more overcast. There were certainly fish to be caught, but in this session they really weren’t cooperating.
I brought one or two small browns to hand beneath the shade of some over-hanging trees, but nothing of substance, and certainly nothing like the prior night. As I worked my way upstream a bit I found a few a few more fish to play with. Short strikes, nothing firm, nothing to hand. Hot, hungry, and a bit disillusioned, I stopped to eat a Clif bar.
After the brief respite Anthony had manged to fish his way up to me and relayed that he was having similar, but slightly better results. The one difference being that he hooked a very large fish in a deep pool not too far from where he started. It was the kind of fish you think is a snag because despite the weight and line tension it doesn’t move… until it does, and when it does it proceeds very slowly. I don’t recall if he said it kicked the fly or broke him off, but he didn’t land it. And couldn’t get it to take again. Could have been a monster trout, could have been a sucker, like a redhorse. We’ll never know.
Inside Information
At this point we both weren’t feeling this stretch of water under the high noon sun. So, we decided to pack up and drive to my favorite and most “top secret” stream. Now, I should clarify that it’s not really “top secret” at all, I found it in a guide book a few years ago. However since it’s almost an hour’s drive away from where we were fishing and staying, it’s not really well known by folks at the campout. When I mention it by name, most people reply with a befuddled, “Where?”
I had a hunch that this bit of inside information may lead to better fishing because the stream is mostly tree-lined and I’ve always had good days upon visiting. It’s full of a mix of brookies and browns, the latter of which get progressively larger the farther you meander upstream. With no resistance from Anthony, off we went.
The car ride was fun and went by quickly. We listened to music, talked about randomness, and observed roadside turkeys, deer, and Amish, although not necessarily in that order.
Upon arrival to this second stream, one which is significantly smaller than the first, Anthony and I decided we’d use the “leapfrog” method of fishing the water, which would prove to work out fairly well.
Fortunes Quickly Turn
As soon as we dropped down the bank and made our first few casts, I found myself immediately tight to a brookie. Anthony followed shortly thereafter with a brown. And so on, and so on. He also jumped a whitetail fawn, hidden and nested in the tall grass no more than 50 yards from our car.
This was a much needed change from earlier in the day as the fish now came frequently to hand. For those interested in gear selection, we were both fishing shorter tenkara rods, Anthony the Tankui Kunoichi 310 and myself the DRAGONtail Kaida zx320. I believe he was using a dry/dropper most of the time, whereas I focused on the Road Kone beadhead kebari.
I really do love this bit of water, it’s absolutely perfect for a solo trip while also being just big enough to handle a pair of angling friends. Fortunately, we had it all to ourselves. The trees generously provided us with shade until some welcomed cloud cover rolled in.
Pardon me if you will, as I get a bit gratuitous with photography from the afternoon. The photos will tell the rest of the story far better than my words.
Evening at the Campout
Following that full afternoon of fishing, we headed south to grab a quick bite to eat and to catch up with Matt and a host of other tenkara friends congregating at the campground for the evening.
Saturday night at the Wisconsin Tenkara Campout was a good one, full of conversation, laughs, and camaraderie. I probably should have taken some pictures, but for some reason it slipped my mind. Guess I was just having too good of a time. Our friend Jared (aka Tenkara Genki) took some video around the campfire, I’ll share that in lieu of photos.
The highlight of the evening was probably the “Facetime” that (I believe) Dre Fornasiero arranged with Zoan Kulinski. Zoan is one of the original organizers of the campout, overseeing the event for the last 10 years. Unfortunately, he was not able to make it this year due to health issues. We passed the phone around from person to person, each giving Zoan our regards and well wishes. Tenkara Gandalf’s presence was certainly missed. We hope the little bit of screen time lifted his spirits as much as it did ours.
Once the sun set, it more or less concluded the day’s activities and gave Anthony, Matt, & I our nudge to head back to the rental house to get in a good night’s sleep. Two days were already down, but with actual pre-determined Sunday morning plans, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Entries to the Driftless 2025 series:
