A cup of coffee, a two hour drive, and endless farm fields brought my friend and me to a hidden gem. In Southeastern Minnesota there lies a valley that would otherwise be concealed if there were no road passing through it. White Water State Park resides 114 miles south of the Twin Cities.
As of January 1st, 2015, inland stream trout fishing here in MN has opened up to fly anglers in the southeastern rivers. Eager to land my first trout, I packed up my brand spankin new Orvis 5 weight rod, waders, boots, and flies, grabbed a buddy and took the trip.
We did not know what to expect, except that it was a state park known for its trout fishing. As we came up to the park, it seemed like an entirely different word. The road dove into a valley surrounded by trees and rock formations. Within the valley ran the Whitewater River which forked into the middle branch and trout run creek.
Approaching the river took very little effort as the weather was perfect, a sunny 40 degree day in the dead of winter. Fishing on the other hand, well lets say I know how to cast. After all the reading I have done and all of the videos I have watched, a river is still overwhelming. I quickly learned my new found skill would only get better through experience. Reading the river, knowing where the fish hold up, what fly should I use? a nymph, midge, scud, streamer? No clue. I just threw on a pheasant tail and went to town. Around 2:00PM with no luck whatsoever, we spotted a fish!
The water was so clear you could see their shadows on the sandy bottom. Did we think that, maybe, the fish could see us? Of course not! I just grabbed the rod and started throwing some line. If this damn fish didn't die of a nervous breakdown I would be shocked. It kept darting back and forth between open water and its wooded covering, more than likely freaked out by the two strange blurry humans flailing about on the bank of the river.
Needless to say, we did not catch that fish. But, all in all the trip taught me the importance of river approach and how to stalk a fish (a little more covertly). As disheartening as it was, I can live without pulling up a trout. Standing in the water, listening to the river, and taking in the solitude was all I was after. There is something to be said about standing in the middle of nature with nothing on you, but a fishing pole and a couple of flies.
As of January 1st, 2015, inland stream trout fishing here in MN has opened up to fly anglers in the southeastern rivers. Eager to land my first trout, I packed up my brand spankin new Orvis 5 weight rod, waders, boots, and flies, grabbed a buddy and took the trip.
We did not know what to expect, except that it was a state park known for its trout fishing. As we came up to the park, it seemed like an entirely different word. The road dove into a valley surrounded by trees and rock formations. Within the valley ran the Whitewater River which forked into the middle branch and trout run creek.
Approaching the river took very little effort as the weather was perfect, a sunny 40 degree day in the dead of winter. Fishing on the other hand, well lets say I know how to cast. After all the reading I have done and all of the videos I have watched, a river is still overwhelming. I quickly learned my new found skill would only get better through experience. Reading the river, knowing where the fish hold up, what fly should I use? a nymph, midge, scud, streamer? No clue. I just threw on a pheasant tail and went to town. Around 2:00PM with no luck whatsoever, we spotted a fish!
The water was so clear you could see their shadows on the sandy bottom. Did we think that, maybe, the fish could see us? Of course not! I just grabbed the rod and started throwing some line. If this damn fish didn't die of a nervous breakdown I would be shocked. It kept darting back and forth between open water and its wooded covering, more than likely freaked out by the two strange blurry humans flailing about on the bank of the river.
Needless to say, we did not catch that fish. But, all in all the trip taught me the importance of river approach and how to stalk a fish (a little more covertly). As disheartening as it was, I can live without pulling up a trout. Standing in the water, listening to the river, and taking in the solitude was all I was after. There is something to be said about standing in the middle of nature with nothing on you, but a fishing pole and a couple of flies.