Fall rainfall had been pretty non-existent in Southeastern Wisconsin and as the posts on "the steelhead site" will attest, fishing has been pretty tough as a result. Still, despite the low water the weather forecast called for light drizzle and cloudy conditions so I thought I just might have a chance at some cohos, lake-run browns and even some early steel.
The drive across took quite a while with the family along and we made it to the river a little after midday. Jessica dropped me off at the river and as I wondered down to a favorite hole I noticed another angler tied into a fish. I watched for a while and he soon landed a king that hadn't been in the river too long (well it wasn't black anyway). He didn't try to pretend it had been caught fair but from where he was standing I can only wonder how he expected not to foul fish in that run that was around ankle deep. Anyway, I happily moved along upstream to a deep hole I've always thought looks great but have never been able to pull a fish from. I've seen all manner of big fish cruising about but never tempted them to tangle with me for a few minutes.
I swung streamers down and across then switched to nymphs all with the same result. I headed upstream through the shallows and there were a few fresh redds but I couldn't see any fish on them. Mostly I saw old redds abandoned by the dead kings strewn along the bank. My plan was to walk upstream towards the Kohler property in the hopes that the low water might
expose some holding water that would be overlooked by anglers fishing their traditional spots. Unfortunately I came across only a couple of reasonable riffles and the rest was junky water. On one redd there was a salmon on it but he'd been in the river a while. I slipped over to slip my Moal leech past him and he refused it each of at least a dozen times. Finally, I let it dead drift and stop in front of him, first two feet in front, then about a foot and finally about six inches. I swear he moved forward and slurped up the fly but I was too slow on the uptake. It took another few casts before I got a similar drift on him and again he gently moved across and forward to sip the stationary fly. I set the hook and he slowly pulled forward in the usual zombie way of a stale old fish. The only time he showed some life was when he noticed me perched over him leaning my paws in to grab him. Finally though he had enough life in him to pull the hook and, although you always want to land a fish if you think it might be your only chance for the trip, I wasn't going to loose sleep over a half dead salmon.
I walked clear into Kohler property and sighted very few fish. I did hook a nice smallmouth bass that had vivid colors - almost tiger-like but that was it. With the heavy cloud cover it got dark quickly and I made my way back downstream. The fisherman I'd noticed when I first arrived was still working a group of nervous kings as night fell. I talked to him as I waited for Jessica's return and he informed me he'd caught three fresh kings and a 32 inch steelhead during the day. If he did I congratulate him!
It was nice to have a nice hotel room to return to, full of family and that was something I'm not used to when in Sheboygan. Normally my buddy Ted and I stay at another motel but because we had the dogs with us we needed a pet friendly place. Turns out this place also had a heated pool and hot tub, which was awesome for those aching shoulder and back muscles (funny how I don't remember those muscles getting sore when the fishing is good). We had it all to ourselves that evening.
Jessica and Natalya swimming in the pool
Little Pierce hanging out with Dad
Ah, the hot tub! Picture me in the far corner and that's how I spent a big chunk of the evening
Next morning I was on the river early with a new plan. With the water being so lo I intended to fish downstream. I began at the same hole as the day before and after a half hour or so nymphing I hooked into a king that tried to put on a show but just couldn't. I never saw the fish so I can't tell for sure but I suspect he might have been foul hooked. After ten minutes or so the hook pulled and I was once again fishless.
I headed downstream and noticed a lot of fresh, large redds. There were a few fish about but they were spooky. Mostly I just saw tired old kings but a few cohos were about. When I got to a favorite hole I saw a huge brown actively working on a shallow redd. The fish was chrome and was every bit of 30 inches and then some. When it would quiver it's back came out of the water and it wouldn't have taken much to snag it but I also noticed another "smaller" brown zipping in and out from the surrounding fast water and occasionally bumping the spawner. My heart raced and I felt I had a good chance at that fish. A few drifts later and the fly stopped. Amazingly when the big fish wasn't quivering I couldn't really see it, even in the shallow water so I didn't see how or where the fly lodged on the fish. Either way the chrome monster was hooked and just from the fight I could tell the fish wasn't hooked in the mouth. I cursed myself as I waded through the holding water trying to get to the fish on the end of my line. If nothing else it would be a beautiful fish for a photo. Fittingly though, this fish also came undone after a few minutes.
While I was fighting the fish an older gentleman wondered down to check things out. He must have lived locally and claimed to have fished every day in the fall. The largest brown he'd caught had been a 39 inch fish (and I believe him) and he'd said he'd caught at least one fish everyday this fall. We spoke at length after I busted off the large buck and he provided me a lot of insight about the river. He fished the tail-out above me hooked into a large brown on a green caddis but, as he'd mentioned previously, they just weren't taking well this morning.
I went back to working my spot, as I tried to think of a new plan after busting up the redd by taking off the spawner. Suddenly I noticed the same fish I'd been targeting slip up onto the redd. I could identify him by the white mark on his forehead. As soon as I got a drift with two feet of him he zoomed over and smashed my (you guessed it) green caddis. He screamed off upstream, then downstream jumping once and then again. Unfortunately the second time he jumped he had already liberated himself from my line (damn fluorocarbon knot strength) and I was left flabbergasted. That was not a pleasant feeling. The fish turned out to also be in the 30 inch class but was darker than the earlier spawner. Perhaps this fish had been in the river and feeding on eggs for a while. Either way he was gone. I watched other fish dance around the darker holding water but by this time the sun had peeked over the trees and I couldn't entice another strike.
I moved up to where the older guy had fished to see what it was that made it worthwhile to him. I'd walked past it just that morning and thought nothing of it. On closer inspection the logs on the side provided good cover and a fresh redd was dug. Also, there was a deeper trough just a few feet from the redd. Above it was shallow, still water but it just goes to show you need to pay attention to details, particularly on heavily fished rivers like this one. As I watched I noticed a shadow, that divided into first two and then three. Tightly snuggled against the logs were three cohos. It looked as though the two males were sparring and I've had reasonable success targetting kings in similar situations.
It was tough going getting a good drift and this time I fouled the female. She pulled forward about twenty feet before the hook pulled. It didn't disrupt things too badly but the remaining fish slipped slowly back into the dark water behind the redd. Ten minutes or so later the pair of males were back and once I got a good drift amongst the logs the larger male moved forward opened his mouth in slow motion and almost let the fly glide into his mouth. I set the hook and the fish gave a good account of itself. Certainly a different type of fight to a king with more surface antics. The fish certainly wasn't fresh but not in bad shape and the kype was only beginning to form. Still, it was my first coho and not a bad way to start.
That gave me a sense of satisfaction but didn't take away the sting of losing that big brown. I slipped the fish back in the hopes that he'd at least get to spawn before his end and not wanting to disturb the redd too much I moved upstream. Walking streamside I noticed another polished up redd with what appeared to be a large brown actively spawning. It was very shallow water and tight casting but the large shallow redd fed into a deep still pool with overhanging branches resembling a beaver dam. I figured there just had to be a big brown or steel lying in there sipping eggs as they floated downstream. If drifted and drifted and drifted to no avail. Finally I decided to cast up behind the spawner and drift it across the shallow redd so it would drop off into the deeper stuff. First drift the line stopped in the middle of nowhere and then cut a line through the water as a fiesty fish raced off. I didn't see the fish and as I fought it I disrupted the spawner and noticed quite a contingent of smaller fish hanging about the big fish. I soon had to hand a nice little lake-run brown (there are no resident fish in this river).
Amazingly the spawner didn't leave but did become pretty spooky. I did target him and I watched as my flyline pulled through his kype and the hook lodged. A flossed fish is legally caught but to me, a fish snagged in the mouth is no less snagged than one snagged in the butt so I'll take no credit in hooking this fish. Yes, my big brown turned out to be a coho and it put up the fight you might expect from an actively spawning fish. I tightened up the drag and, fittingly, the hook pulled. A few minutes later and Jessica pulled up and we were on our way back home. All in all, not a great trip but certainly one that taught me a fair bit and fueled my fire to pursue big browns in the future.
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