Can't touch Steel

With all that's been going on with my health lately we decided to get away for Jessica's birthday up to her parents in Grand Marais. It also just happens that steelhead should be starting to run the midshore streams...............coincidence perhaps? Anyway, after arriving very late on the evening of the 30th I set out for the Splitrock River at 4:30 the next morning. There were plenty of deer feeding on the new grass in the ditches and I even spotted a moose with her calf in the dimness of first light. I arrived at the Splitrock River early and fished it hard for a few hours but didn't see a fish but the water was a little high and colored. So it was off to the Stewart but on the way I developed the need to go to the bathroom so I stopped at Gooseberry State Park. After doing my business, I figured I might as well fish the Gooseberry River for a while. A few guys had been getting fish but with the high, bright conditions I didn't. It was nice to be fishing in such scenic conditions though.

Some nice riffles near the terminal falls of Gooseberry RiverLooking back to the falls on the Gooseberry

There was a few guys around, especially herons, (guys searching for bedded fish) but I worked the dark water. I walked quite a way and when the sun got directly overhead and there wasn't a cloud in sight I sat down in a shady, mossy spot, ate a snickers bar and took a little nap. With the hustle and bustle of all the things going on it was great to relax and listen to the water streaming across the rocks on their quest to get to the big lake. The smells of spring were pushing through the stale winter air and birds could be heard through the evergreen forest. This was what I needed!

I decided to head back to the car but I fished and kept a careful eye out as I went downstream. I passed several fishermen on the way down but at a small pool I noticed a single fish digging a redd. It was a shallow tailout with tree branches dangling right above it, right down to touch the water. It would be a tough spot to get a drift but I set up. I had a bright nympho fly tied on and despite many drifts the fish didn't want an part of that fly so I switched to a small pheasant tail. The problem here was that I couldn't see the fly and although I think I saw the fish eat something I wasn't sure and didn't set the hook. Then I decided to tie on a bright fly ahead of the pheasant tail. This worked well and I could see my drift. In a couple of drifts I watched the white of his open mouth as the fly was eaten. The fish quickly zipped down and then upstream and in a few seconds the fish was gone. I was devastated but figured I'd rest the spot for a few minutes.

After ten minutes or so, either the same fish or a new one (it looked more silver and a touch larger) moved in to the same tailout. This time the point fly was a hare's ear and again it only took a couple of drift in the right place before I hooked up. This time the hooked pulled out in only a second or two and within a few minutes the fish was back. I retied my rig and this time again tied the pheasant tail as the point. First drift....BANG this time the fish scooted down over the rapids then turned on a dime and raced upstream. The fish was securely hooked and was into the pool above the redd. After about a minute or so of furious, chaotic, all-over-the-place battling the fish raced into the log cover and my bright "indicator" fly fouled the log and I busted off my fish. I rested the spot for over an hour and that fish didn't return. I had high hopes of fishing him again in the morning but it was Jessica's birthday and I promised myself I'd spend it with her. That afternoon the skies opened up and it poured, turning every stream on the north shore into a raging torrent and blowing things out for days. Oh well, it had been great to get out and even better to get a chance at some Minnesotan steel, but I certainly felt I'd been bested by that fish.