I have to add a few image archives and get a few kinks ironed out but I think its in a good place. I hope it screams “fly factory.”

Note: This place will linger for a while until I can get everyone switched over, please take the time and change your blogroll or favorites. Thank You for reading.

The Winona Fly Factory

We hiked downstream walking near the stream and listening to the flowing water. Clover did well in the pack and we hiked downstream to the spot I wanted to attempt to take a few fish quickly with the random noise, burp or giggle coming from the fifteen month old along the way. With Chloe on my back I started swinging my nymph rig careful to keep the hooks in the water, the Pink Patrick immediatly took a smaller brown trout and as the fish jumped I heard laughter from behind me. I landed the fish showing the Clover what I had caught, her first trout.

I took another fish and sure enough as the splashing started I heard happy noises from behind me. I managed to nymph up a nicer brown but it released itself from my barbless hook before I could get a photo of it. We moved upstream and Chloe began to squirm a bit but as I began to hike she passed out taking her nap on my back. With the little one asleep I was free to swing at a few more fish and I took the opportunity. The Pink Patrick nymphed up two smaller browns and a brookie that I lost before it came to hand.  I fished for a bit longer and then I woke Chloe to play in the park before leaving. Fun to show fly fishing to the youth, probably more fun for me at this age but fun just the same.

• Find Trico’s Hatching
• Catch fish on Trico Pattern
• Enjoy another day on a S.E. Minnesota Trout Stream
• Work Hoppers Later in the Day

With the goals laid out before me I set out at 5am. Getting to the spot I wanted to fish was going to require a longer drive than normal but this provided the opportunity to find some rising fish, fish new water and see a stretch of water that I rarely get to visit. I met Joel, who became my Brother-in-Law this past Sunday at 5:30am. This outing was his last as a single man and it felt good to get him out.

Explaining the goals for the day to Joel was simple enough, first up, use a ridiculously small fly to tempt rising trout. Upon arrival at 6:40am the water temp was already above what I was expecting to find pushing past 60 degrees but the trout were rising steadily and we rigged a bit of 7x and a couple of #24 Trico Spinner patterns I had tied for this morning. We would have been better to arrive at 6am and no later, something to keep in mind for next time. Joel, still new to fly fishing was naturally going to have a difficult time taking a fish on a Trico pattern but tried just the same and although he walked away a few hours later empty handed he surprises me with his patience and lack of frustration even when his fly ends up in the trees/weeds more often than not. At one point he was less than 20ft from rising trout, standing in the stream up to his thighs and couldn’t quite get his leader unfurled far enough to present the fly well enough. I tried to help as best I could but he knew he just needed to practice and was content trying his best until the moment was over.

I worked around Joel and managed to take a few risers, felt nice to finally get one of these fish to hand using this pattern. Although small there is something about catching these fish feeding in a frenzy on such a small imitation. Joel and I even caught creek chubs rising to eat the Trico’s. At 9:00am everything stopped almost immediately, no rising fish but still a cloud of Trico’s all around. We waited to see if the spinner fall would begin but after thirty minutes and burning daylight we pushed on to a second spot on the same stream. Unfortunately we found almost no life other than a small Brook trout I nymphed up with a new caddisfly pattern and creek chubs. Water temp at 10:30 explained it all, pushing 66-68 degrees, I can only imagine that the trout were either concentrated in the deepest of holes or had moved downstream to colder water. At 11am Joel and I pressed on to a stream that I felt provided the best opportunity to take trout on hopper patterns. The section flowed through a cow pasture that was downstream from the source of the small creek, pouring out cold 51 degree water. Cow pastures and grasshoppers go hand in hand, combine that with the water temp being ideal for active trout at mid-day with the sun beating down and your in business. The second we got to the stream we knew we had picked the right spot.

Joel and I set ourselves up with Hoppicators with trailing nymphs, I chose a Sparkle Larvae and Joel a Caddis nymph. I have walked this section of stream a few times before but had been unable to stop and fish it. I picked a run that I had previously spied a very nice sized brown hunkered down the last time I had been here. After getting used to the current and setting the right depth the Sparkle Larvae took a smaller brown and soon I was back at it. Second pass through and I felt a nice tug and soon my fly was heading deep, I tried to turn the fish but unable to do so soon enough resulted with the fish pulling me under old habitat improvement and soon I knew he had wrapped my line around something. I was forced to break my flies off and start again.

We worked upstream to where I wanted to relax and eat a bit of lunch before fishing our way downstream and out for the day. On the way I plopped my hopper pattern just outside of a deep run located next to habitat improvement and watched as a brightly colored brown shot like a rocket to my fly, hook set and soon it was hopper time. I took one more in a similar situation on the next run while Joel nymphed up a few downstream of me. We arrived at the source and took a water temp of 51 degrees. I managed to get a nice strike from a brookie on my hopper pattern in the hole caused by the pouring of water from the rock wall, very cool but I lost the fish before I was able to get a good look at it. We took a few pictures and smiled, this is one of the best places in Minnesota to be for sure. We worked our way downstream and out heading home at 2:30pm. All goals met for the day, very nice.

Stopped by a spot I visit every so often returning from CSMP work and dropped a hopper pattern looking for a quick dance with a trout. Not much time to fish, just trying to get one or two to come up and say hi. Noon with an air temp of 82+ degrees makes for happy hoppers warmed and active. Today there was a stiff wind making for tricky casting but I’ve found that some of the best hopper fishing involves wind, hoppers tend to end up in the water after wind blows in mid-jump or flight. I planed to fish a section of pasture that was easy to access, difficult to fish and offering large rewards.

1st run really doesn’t look like much but to make that mistake would be foolish. Often the crack between the massive amount of in-stream weeds holds plenty of fish, combine that with being close to a bank containing weeds filled with hoppers and you have a good recipe for fun. With the first run I made probably eight really poor casts landing mostly in the weeds (both in-stream and on shore). Three or four more decent casts but fly line hung on weeds caused for a poor drift, finally the right cast, good float….and? Yes! Although small this was what I came for, pulling trout from the depths.

I moved downstream and attempted to take a few more, got one strike from a decent sized fish but a poor hook-set allowed the fish to take off. If this happens I highly suggest stopping. Dry your fly. Honestly, move on in the hopes you can tempt one more on the pass on the way out. If the fish tastes hook you need to let them be, and how often do you think a grasshopper really gets blown into the stream, certainly not in the time it takes an anxious angler to make a few false casts, trust me I know, I’m that guy at times.  I moved down stream and working from a higher vantage point I let the fly splat with a nice bounce, I think it is that bounce that really gets the trout.

Noticing the time I sat for a moment and took photo’s of the hoppers surrounding me. Hundreds in several sizes, makes me want to work on a kind of micro hopper (I’m thinking a #14 hook standard length). I spied an orange hopper, green, grey, all kinds of hoppers.Today most of the hoppers were #12 but I carry much larger hoppers down to a #4. Find a few and tie your best imitation on and get swinging. I moved back upstream and attempted at the run I lost the  one fish, sure enough the third cast a fish came up and I lost that one too. I moved back to the first run, the place I had taken the trout from earlier. Although I didn’t get a strike here I did watch a nice brown turn all the way around to spy and deny my fly, had the drift been drag free for a second longer I think I would have had a chance at that fish as well. Honesty sucks at times.

Started the day early, waking to coffee during the pre-dawn hours preparing to take on the day and hopefully a few trout on dry flies. As it were it was not to be this day. Think of three points A. The house, B. The Spot for the Day and C. Trico Possibility. C was smack between A and B so I pulled over and watched the water for ten minutes drinking my coffee. I spied enough rising fish to make me think it was worth the effort, 6ft tall weeds soaking in morning dew made for a very wet fly factory. I knew the difficulty based on the stretch of water, slow, very slow. No virtually still, especially in the early hours of dawn. I rigged a long leader and a bit of 7x tippet for my trico attempt and then waited for the sipping to begin, it never really did. I put the fly on several risers and struck out every time, my casts were alright but I’m sure I could have landed the fly a bit gentler a few times. After close to an hour I picked up and left for point B.

Point B was beautiful, I love being here. The water was stained upon arrival but in the distance upstream I saw a few dimples so I left the Trico on for the time being. I tossed it a few more times to risers but nothing again. Second stream with little to no rising fish, I was beginning to question why I got up so early just to walk around in the water when I thought I was rather fortunate to get the opportunity to try, to just have the opportunity to attempt a difficult task. I’m hoping before the season ends I can take a few trout on a trico pattern but first I’ll have to find a few hatching. Check out Wendy B.’s recent trico outing, great pictures.

I put the Trico pattern away and busted out a Bead-Head Caddis Pupa pattern and a Sparkle Larvae and expected to do fairly well. I missed my fair share of takes and landed a few fish. After my recent strikeout I was looking forward to seeing any, even the smallest of trout so that was good. The sun was quickly warming everything up as the morning hours faded. The Caddis Pupa and the Sparkle Larvae were each taking fish, almost every other strike from about 9am until 11am then everything slowed way down. I nymphed my way far upstream and spent more time hiking than casting but I had the opportunity to be here at this time and wanted to make the most of it. I put my fly places that I have previously encountered trout of the Brown kind but today was different. Chub, chub, chub. Chub. Chub. Chub. My thought here is that at a certain point the trout were holding deep and were not feeding as actively due to warmer water temps and the chubs were taking advantage of the situation. Honestly, I didn’t put two and two together regarding the water temp and lack of activity until I was driving home realizing that I never took a water temp later after 11am, bummer.

I took a few more chubs heading back to the truck and lost out on two decent brownies with poor hook sets after I switched over to the SMB for the last leg out. Notables include: While casting today I saw rustling from the stream side veg, expecting an otter/beaver I waited and watched as huge snapping turtle walked out. He looked at me and jumped right into the stream. Very cool. I was scared shitless by gun fire less than 200 yards from my put in. I stopped fishing a bit early and carefully approached the bridge I needed to cross to get to my truck finding three kids (under 18) shooting a variety of weapons at beer cans. I heard shotguns, rifles and I think a handgun. I was uncomfortable and wanted out of there, I announced my presence and desire to ascend to my vehicle. I rarely hear gun fire while fishing. On a lighter note I felt my casting was great today. I didn’t have to pull flies from weeds or trees but once or twice and I didn’t get the nymph rig knotted up at all. I concentrated on my roll cast almost 100% while fishing the nymph rig today and I was getting good close to the end. All in all a slow day for fishing but an excellent day to hike around a driftless area valley.

Liz’s father who is largely responsible for starting my fly fishing journey recently dropped off a mug that has several flies painted on it. I dig it very much and have added it to my tying bench where it will hold something useful I’m sure. I can always put coffee in it as well! Thanks Jeff, its very cool.

Recent rain had muddied the stream a bit but I decided to press on. I had fished this spot once before and found it to be barren despite the appearance of greatness at the time. I don’t like writing a stretch of trout water off until I’ve given it a few attempts with failing outcomes each time, today was this spot’s second chance. With nothing rising and the heat on I rigged nymphs and attempted to go deep but found nothing but rocks on the bottom. I lost a few flies and managed to get almost no strikes, I did miss the one for-sure strike I had. After two hours of getting nowhere in the sun I pulled out to move closer to the final destination.

I fished up a second stretch that I had fished early in my fly fishing infancy and although I’m still learning this craft I have improved significantly this season and it showed on the stream today. Able to cast now to locations that had been so distant the last time I had visited here I was hoping for good fortune, all I found was spin fisherman and rusty looking water. I made only a few casts, the last one found me slipping on a rock while shooting line which resulted in a bruised and sore right leg and arm, this prompted me to go find the boys.

I knew that they were around I just had to find them, after a few minutes I saw two smaller lads and a larger fellow. I parked and was greeted by the two boys and Wendy B. We talked trout, gardens, kids and hung out while camp was prepared. Tenting alone with two young ones has got to be more difficult than fly fishing but Wendy made it look easy.  With my rod rigged we took the boys down to the water to play and attempt to take a trout or two but the one take I had I lost. Afterwards hotdogs were prepared and hungry stomachs were filled, excellent to see two young boys pay more attention to the raw onion over the hotdog and to hear James proclaim that the hotdog has more protein than the onion (smart boy). No fish for my efforts but it was a good day just the same.