winter slow

I headed up to the local river in Wisconsin. It was one of the coldest days this winter, and felt it as I stepped out of my door. Driving up with the sun rising up to the right of me, I wasn’t quite sure if there will even be open waters. The winter is here and I am not sure how many more days of fishing is left, so this was one of those trips. I like fishing in nice sunny conditions as much as the next guy, but I am also slowly gaining a taste for fishing harsh conditions. This day wasn’t going to be harsh, only very cold.

In the winter you have to plan extra time for everything. It takes longer to drive anywhere because of the frozen roads, it takes longer to gear up because there more layers to put on, and it even takes longer to wade through any waters as you are either breaking through ice or walking carefully over snow covered rocks. I put on the fly and walked into the snow covered path. As I reached the edge of the water, I walked the path I knew well, because I wasn’t sure when the ice would give way, and soon it did. Imagine walking on top of Styrofoam panels, each step making a hold in the ice. Although the ice was thinner, I found it almost impossible to crash walk through it like a ice cutting boat. The flat layer created a pretty firm structure and each time I tried this my shin hurt pretty bad. So I had to walk big clumsy steps with jerky motion from when my foot fell into the thin ice. When I reached the open water things got a little easier but a lot more slippery with ice formed underneath the flowing water.












I threw the egg patterned fly around, but soon found my line full of droplets of ice. I had the deicing wax on the rod guides but didn’t expect the line to freeze up this way. I had to be really selective on when and where I would throw the fly, as it would take an equal amount of time to deice the line with my hands. I also made the mistake of putting my rod & reel down in the slush like water at one point. I soon found the reel & lines completely locked up, frozen with a consistent layer of ice over it. It took a long time to get the reel to turn again, and even then the drag knob wasn’t working. I saw a few fish as they scattered away with my clumsy and loud walk through the ice. I found it easier to drift with some big pieces of ice when walking downstream, hoping to mask my footsteps with the flowing ice sheets.




I suspected there would be a few surviving Kings and Browns left, the very last of the survivors. The few fish I saw scattering were exactly that, their colors bruised black & white from where the rocks had taken toll. They were big fish, and scattered away with some force. It wasn’t easy to get close enough without spooking them, one because of the noise from the snow & ice, and second because my body was cold and I was walking like Frankenstein. Plus I had to make sure the line was at least bending, free from ice as well as making sure the reel actually turned at all. My only chance was to try and spot one far away enough, then to make a slow and careful approach. I continued walking, I slipped and fell and was on all four, I cursed, and my knee hurt from the fall. I started to walk back to the bridge where I has entered, and spotted single fish hanging out near the edge where the ice stopped. I tied on a new fly because the current fly was now a ball of ice with the hook completely covered. I put on a split shot and cast the line out. From where I was standing, I didn’t have a direct view of the fish mouth because of the ice edge so I had to throw the fly to my best guess. Fortunately for me, the fish must have been ready to give the last fight of her life. She ignored several of my lame casts around her, even one cast where I think the split shot landed on her head. She stayed around and allowed me to get the fly into her mouth. She gave a strong but somewhat steady fight and was soon in my net. I took a quick photo and packed up for the day.

Back at the car, it took longer getting out of my frozen waders, with the laces frozen in that shape. The landing net was also frozen in that shape and I tied it up on the roof rack. My knee still hurt, and I felt the injury as I move it. As I drove back, I thought about how I felt about catching fish that were the last survivors from earlier this season. I always like catching fish, but these were likely the last days of their lives, perhaps I should have just let it be. I packed away my gear as I would have done if it had to sit till spring. I’ll see how that goes.