First Foray into the World of Steeheading - Bois Brule, Wisconsin Day 6: Monday, October 19

Our final day to fish. Crazed for another bite, we had pre-packed the night before and awoke in the pitch black to prepare for one last shot at landing chrome. The mood was solemn but guardedly hopeful. One last cup of oatmeal; one last cup of Starbucks Via. We let the air out of sleeping pads. Psssssst. Commited. 

We crept out of the campground before first light and made our way to the parking lot that would lead us to Birch Pool where we had both caught fish and we had seen others caught. We figured that was our best shot only having a few hours to fish before going back to break camp and head to the airport. We were first to arrive at the pool and took up position, me on the near and David on the far shore. As light began to fill in, we cast. I know I wanted a pull so bad, I was somewhat manic. I cast over and over, in the bubble stream, in the slow back eddy, way out in the tailwater. I adjusted the distance between the strike indicator, the lead weight, switched trailing flies; I pulled out every trick in my limited steelhead arsenal. David was not having any better luck. With time running out, we swapped shorelines for refreshed luck. We fished for another 45 minutes and then threw in the towel. It was not meant to be. Later, in retrospect, we realized that our fish , and all the ones we had sen caught at Birch Pool, were caught in the afternoon. So then we wondered if some pools, because of depth and temperature, worked better at different times of the day. Hmmm. So much to learn! We headed back to Cooper Landing Campground for one last time. We took down and stuffed the tents, and packed away our rods in their tubes. I wrapped my wet boots in a garbage back, threw in my waders, and repacked my rolling duffel for luggage check-in. I crammed my carry-on to save on checked baggage weight (49 pounds, even with wet stuff!). After 4+ days of steelheading and cold-weather camping, my fingers were dehydrated, cracked, sore, and beat up. 

But it was so worth it! As David steered the car towards Minneapolis, the skies darkened and it snowed intermittently. It was in the high 70's in Virginia Beach, but in Wisconsin, the plows were out and at the ready. 

 

The drive gave us time to reflect on what an awesome trip this had been. I was overdue visiting the region of David's upbringing and that he loved so much. We got to explore new water and an area, now familiar, that he will have the opportunity to return to over and over again, hopefully with his son and daughter, hopefully with all of us! I cherish David's friendship and am grateful for the times we get to spend together. I'm paraphrasing Norman Maclean, I know, but... In certain matters pertaining to the universe, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, come by grace, and grace comes by art, and art is bound by abiding friendship, that does not come often or easily. 

 Peace.