The sunday night before I left it rained hard, which I thought would be a good thing, but I didn't realize how hard it rained. When I arrived Monday afternoon the rivers were chocolate and raging torrents. I did manage to hook something strong just under the bridge of the Stewart River but it shot upstream and under a log. I fought the current and my footing and tried to pass my rod under the log but the water around it was deep and flowing strongly. First I felt my rod tip bust and then the line went dead. That was bad enough but the line tangled as I tried to pull it through and as I was already upset I yanked a bit harder than I should have. Believe it or not the flyline broke. Man was I a happy camper. I decided to head to Gooseberry State Park to get a camp set up for the night.
To my suprise there was another group of campers but being a big park I found a site well away from the other group (although I thought about that group of four college aged girls a little throughout the evening - perhaps wondering if they needed the assistance of an aussie fisherman). I changed line to my backup and rigged the reel on my 8 weight rod and with plenty of light left went off to try my luck in the Gooseberry River. I fished the first couple of long pools by the mouth but didn't see a fish. A couple of spawn fisherman came down and mentioned they'd fished for four days and not seen a fish - not the kind of news one wants to hear.
It was a good night camping with just me and the dogs, clear crisp and dipping a bit below freezing. There were a few deer hanging around just outside the tent but the dogs were pretty good about ignoring them. I slept well and rose early. Morning was again clear and sunny so I decided the best option was to explore and see if I could find anything worth fishing. I drove and fished Silver Creek (which was borderline fishable) but the first pool had a huge assortment of guys hammering away. I can only guess there was a fish or two in there but I wasn't going to combat fish. I did watch them for a while and I saw slumped shoulders all around, so if the fish were there, they weren't biting furiously. For the short distance the stream ran it looked quite nice and I'm sure it holds the odd fish. I ran as far as the Baptism and after a brief foray to examine Palisade Creek (It's skinny water and another guy beat me to it by five minutes so I let him have it undisturbed), I gave up on steelhead and went upstream in the hopes of getting some stream trout. I drove quite a ways up but even here the river was flooded badly and although the color was OK the banks were swollen and it wasn't fishable - still I tried for over an hour.
The rest of the day saw me entertain the dogs with hikes about the place and even a swim at the beach in Two Harbors but I did spend some time with a fly in the water at Gooseberry before deciding to hit the Splitrock River in the evening. It was high and dirty and I wasn't comfortable wading it in places. The water was coming down and clearing. Perhaps tomorrow would be the day. I headed to Split Rock State Park fairly early that evening to get some rest and prepare for an early start. I had the place all to myself and the dogs and I loved it. We had a great campsite, sheltered from the wind but affording an excellent view of Lake Superior and the Split Rock lighthouse. We wondered down to the beach, played the guitar and just let the world spin for a while.
View from My Campsite
After another pleasant night in the tent I was at the river early and the water was still a touch too high and stained. I gave it a good go but didn't hook up. I was making my way downstream to a favorite hole and found it already occupied. I fished the hole above and within a couple of minutes I saw his rod bend. He fought out a nice fish but was upset when he had to release a nice steelhead (most of the locals hope for Loopers as Steelhead must all be released while the loopers can be taken). When the spawn guys start getting them you know the fish are in and it's just a matter of time. With an angler below me and another party pushing down on me I elected to leave. I decided to explore and try my luck on the streams closer to Duluth. I found the Sucker River to be flowing quite nicely and not overly crowded (that's a relative term on this stream). I fished where I could and watched a father impress his son by landing one at the terminal pool. I also hooked up with and landed a pair of loopers (they have fin clips so you can identify them) probably both around the 18 inch mark but fat, sturdy looking things. That wasn't what I came for though and I headed back to investigate the Stewart a little further.
It was easily waded now and turns out this is a beautiful stream. I watched one guy land a smallish steelhead in a deep pool (his girlfriend was so excited I wasn't quite sure what she was going to do to him), and ran into a couple local guys with one on a stringer. It was the middle of the day and it was clear and sunny and every now and then you'd see the form of what was probably fish. I didn't hook up though but this is one stream that really suits flyfishing and has a long fishable stretch. I wouldn't mind learning this river a little better in future.
The afternoon saw me back at the SplitRock. I started downstream and worked up. In the pool I'd seen the guy land one in the morning I landed a looper of a similar size (perhaps a little larger) to the one's I'd gotten at the Sucker. Things were looking up. As I made my way upstream I fished the pools hardest but also the faster, broken water. This river sees plenty of anglers and I've watched the fish move into the broken water when anglers disturb them when the water levels were lower. Finally my persistance payed off. Drifting a yellow egg through a fast run, the line stopped as it had many times before in this rocky river. I gently lifted the rod and instead of the breakoff the weight slowly pulled up (like a log or branch might). I put a little more pressure on and then the fish must have realized something was up. It charged around in the pool before deciding to head back towards the lake through some shallow riffles. I tried to follow, keeping my rod tip high and vocally praying for the fish not to come unbuttoned in the shallow water. Turns out it didn't and I finally played the fish into some slow water in the downstream pool.
I was lucky enough to have another angler passing by as I was landing the fish and he did me the service of taking a picture of the fish and I. She was a memorable fish that I had to work for but seeing her and the little fly in the corner of her mouth definitely made it all worthwhile. I was satisfied.
At Last - A Minnesotan Steelhead
About a half hour or so later and in the next pool, I hooked and landed another steelhead hen, and although I love catching all of them, she didn't change my mood half as much as the first one. That fish relieved the tension and doubt, the second fish was icing on the cake. Despite there still being plenty of light, and probably another fish or two, I decided more fish wouldn't make me happier or more pleased with myself, and if I left earlier the dogs would be pleased. I slept very well that night in the tent.
A Nice Hen
I tried Splitrock again in the morning but just couldn't get into it. A few minutes after I arrived a pair of eager young guys almost split their seams desperately trying to get rigged and ready before me, before racing down the track to the terminal hole. I hadn't fished a terminal hole throughout the week so they needn't have bothered anyway, but still it was annoying. I went to the hole I'd worked successfully the evening before but didn't draw a strike in a half hour or so. Word must have been out because I watched a steady stream of fishermen along the hiking path making their way to the terminal pool. As always they crowd themselves out of there and begin to push down so I decided to leave before I was crowded out - besides, I'd already achieved what I'd set out to do. As I drove South I stopped to fish the Knife and Lester, just because I felt I had an obligation to fish the historically great streams. Standing shoulder to shoulder isn't my thing but I can now say I've done it, caught nothing, but done it.
Rascal (Top) and Belle (Bottom) Hangin' out on the beach
All in all the fish were few and far between, but that's how it is on the north shore. I got my decent Minnesotan steelhead and thoroughly enjoyed my time there. Hopefully I'll be able to do it again, but a few more fish would be nice. Now I just need a big looper before the DNR discontinues that program, or at least I'll use that excuse to justify spending time on the scenic rivers of the north shore.
