I planned a big adventure with Granny this week to pack up our Outcast Striker Raft and explore a new river.  Based on my Google Earth research of the stretch I chose, there were plenty of shallow raft-dragging rapids, a potential portage and being this is a boggy location, one could expect an abundance of blood sucking insects.  But we were all good with going for it – that is until we saw the forecast of steady 20-25 MPH wind with gusts up to 39 MPH followed by sever evening thunderstorms.

 

But life is short.  And on the 29^th Granny and I head for Canada for a few days of channel cats on fly then to Gangler’s North Seal River Lodge in Manitoba.  After Gangler’s I have a mere three days at home before heading to fish the World Masters Fly Fishing Championships (retirement didn’t last long).  The bottom line is, if we didn’t do this long considered float this week, we’d be looking at 2024.  And who wants to put fishing plans off for another year at this stage in life?  Certainly not us.

 

We parked the van at a stunning campsite in the Northwoods last night.  There was no indication of forceful wind or storms on the way.  The weather was beautiful.  Granny grilled up Brats and we sipped a few cold New Glarus beers before hitting it early.

 

I popped up at 5:20 AM this morning and made coffee.  Last night we prepared the raft so at 6 AM our float began.  While we probably should have been fishing the first light of the day with diligence, I rowed and sipped my delicious coffee while Granny drank hers and swatted a late season hatch of mosquitoes.

 

 

 

Eventually the fishing began.  At first it was me dabbling a few casts from the rowing seat as I drank my last half of coffee.  After I landed a 15” deeply chocolate colored slab of a smallie followed by two more, Granny put down her coffee, doused herself in bug stuff and took my 6-weight gently from my clutches.

 

The reason for the pesky insects was the very warm and humid pre-sunrise temperature of 67°.  Honestly it was one of the most enjoyable and stunning daybreaks of summer.  Soon after this photo came the first breath of wind.  At 7:15 AM a steady breeze started.  By 8 it was more than a breeze.  Unfortunately, at 9 AM, I started to worry about what the afternoon would bring.  Was tackling this float a bad decision after all?

 

By now Granny had put a few nice smallies to the net as well.  While none extraordinary, all were overweight 12-16 inchers.  There wasn’t a slouch in the group and the fights they put up were unreal.  I have no doubt in my mind these fish had not been caught before.

 

Along with the great fishing, our scenery was incredible.  Yeah, the wind kept getting stronger but even as I needed to dig harder with each and every stroke of the oars and Granny kept untangling her loose line blowing into everything from the wind, I knew we were better off on the water than watching a summer day unfold from home.  And Granny went on a run of at least hooking a smallmouth from almost every submerged rock we saw.  The fishing was more than impressive.

 

By noon the wind was so bad everything you did was difficult.  Not only was I testing my bad shoulder to the hilt with every rowing stroke, Granny was doing all she could to cast her Clouser without taking one of our heads off.  You couldn’t eat a potato chip without it blowing away from between your fingertips!  You can’t really show wind strength in a still photo but at times it was smarter for me to jump over the side and drag the boat downstream rather than try to row it!

 

Despite taxing conditions, the smallie fishing remained first-rate.  If I could hold the boat in the wind and Granny could make the cast, we’d catch fish.  It was quite the exertion for each and every smallie but it was worth it.  Eventually we had to tuck into the tall bank grass and sip a couple of Leiny’s.

 

Around 2 PM Granny punched a cast I won’t soon forget.  I was rowing backwards as hard as I could in order to get our raft downstream.  Granny didn’t want to be fishing but knew that it was the only way to keep me rowing.  A gust of wind came as she raised to cast.  In order not to hit herself with the Clouser, she switched into a fancy back cast and instead the Clouser hissed by my nose missing by a nose hair.  I hit the deck before her forward cast came through and somehow the heavy fly reached its destination.

 

Granny shrugged, exhausted from casting.  She started stripping purposely slow in order not to get the fly in for the next cast too quickly.  Apparently that’s exactly what this big fish wanted.  Granny went tight and immediately from her mouth came, “Big fish!”

 

That gust was one for the record books.  Perhaps it was the 39 MPH forecasted, but I’d say worse.  By the time I got up from hitting the deck the gust got ahold of us.  Regardless of my efforts, our Striker skidded across the water and smashed into the bank.  Granny looked at me like I was an idiot but the surprise on my face told it all.  I had no control of the boat and she was going to have to manage.

 

This fish played dirty.  It didn’t help that at one point the fish was 50 feet away thanks to he ran the opposite direction that we got blown.  This river is filled with snags from logs, sharp rocks and huge patches of vegetation.  A couple times the smallie hung up but my 20lb SA Fluoro allowed Granny to heave back.

 

Granny did an amazing job and despite the boat going the opposite way of her mammoth smallie, in the end she got him in.  There was no time for measuring.  I’ll guess the fat bass to be no less than 18”.  I flicked a few photos then off went the stellar smallie for another day.  Perhaps we’ll catch er again on that 2024 trip.

 

At that point the skies were ominous.  Not only did the wind and gusts threaten our late afternoon, but storm clouds were forming and drifting fast.  Without knowing exactly how far we had to go, I made a decision to get downstream as fast as possible.  Knowing that wasn’t going to be fast, Granny continued fishing and not only picked up a few more smallies but she landed a nice walleye on the fly.  Dinner!

 

At 5:15 PM we hit our makeshift take out and were deflating the Striker.  At the time we didn’t know but the storm was close.  By 7 we reached camp and heard the first clamber of thunder and by the time we made dinner a burst of hail hit the van.  Luckily the icy nuggets turned to huge spluttery raindrops minutes after but it has poured steady since and now it’s nearly 10 PM.

 

Both of us are too pleased to feel any aches and pains from battling today’s elements.  Those will come tomorrow when we head home.  We opened a bottle of red and relished and relived the days great moments from the front seats of the van watching an incredible display of lightening.  And now the pattering of rain is putting this boy to bed.  What an amazing summer this has been!

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing