I pass the old barns and silos along the way. It feels like I have driven this road a thousand times, I recognize every detail; this puts me into a state of auto-pilot until I turn down a dirt road which helps to shake me from my sleepy state. Reaching my friend's house, I am greeted by his black lab who excitedly expects to join us on the journey up stream. Packing the car we talk anxiously about our past fishing adventures and fly patterns that we are placing our trust in.
The river is close, and our lines will be wet soon. In this Northern Wisconsin range there is a diverse amount of freshwater fishing opportunities and settings available. From smallmouth bass, pike and walleye fishing in the big lake (Lake Superior), to world class steelhead and salmon fishing in Superior's larger tributary rivers.
I try drifting it at different angles, but coaxing this wise fish into biting is not an easy task. I step back and watch as my friend tried his luck by floating the now well chewed hopper pattern. As it drifts, we both tense up in anticipation knowing that any fish actively feeding in the area would be called to strike by the defenseless grasshopper, and then it happened in a blink of an eye. The fish viciously struck the hopper and the hook buried deep in the corner of the fish's jaws. It was a valiant fight, but being caught was inevitable since the hook could not be thrown free. In it came; all 15 inches of its glory. In previous outings we had caught many fish larger than this, but none more beautiful.
Maybe it was the remote location, the crystal clear water or the overgrown river but this was a fish for the ages, something that will always stay in the back of my mind and be remembered when I pass small streams tucked in the woods far off the highways. Excited, we take long strides back to the car; it seems that the water has become cooler than it was a just a few hours earlier. The summer days are shortening and fall is creeping closer with every long shadow cast upon the water. I stop and take a moment to look around; gorgeous light and dark greens surround me. The river is crystal clear and the bottom is fine red sand looking as if someone had run a comb through it, finding a place to rival this beauty would be hard. My friend and I are addicted to the style and majesty of small stream fishing and I feel lucky to share adventures out here with him as we take the final steps out of the woods.
End of the high country season

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