An Outdoorsman’s Journal: Big trout/trout trip

Hello friends, Each May I go trout fishing somewhere in Wisconsin. This week I headed down to Columbia County to fish Rowan Creek. I grew up in Poynette and fished Rowan Creek hundreds of times as a kid. I have to admit, those getaways were my escape from a drawn-out divorce that my parents went through when I was young boy.

Instead of fishing the easy-to-get-to waters, I chose to put my canoe in on the Wisconsin River and go to an area that is remote and, to be perfectly honest, very dangerous to get to.

Sunday, May 12 – High 73, low 44 So here is the plan: With my 8-year-old golden retriever Ruby as my partner, I was going to canoe through very challenging shallow water that will soon become wild rice and if you get stuck, it seems like there is no bottom, as in muck. Then it is at least a mile up Rowan Creek and the last mile of this journey is one deadfall after another crossing the creek. The shoreline is all marsh, and I honestly feel that zero people fish here as it is simply too difficult and dangerous. My two-hour trip was finalized with a decision: I will never do this again. I have trapped, duck hunted and muzzleloader hunted back here, including a nine-day trip, and once I trout fished and caught a 19-inch brown trout. The wild rice is creating and trapping sediment and where I ice fished as a boy is no longer fishable. The hole I planned on fishing was choked with deadfalls, so I traveled further upstream and found an L-shaped hole that was maybe 40 yards long and deep. This is where I would spend my next 24 hours. As soon as I started to become comfortable, a powerful storm smacked the heck out of Ruby and I, and I pulled a tarp over us and weathered it out. About 4 o’clock I became serious as far as

catching trout and went with my usual small gold hook, a current appropriate split shot and half a crawler. For two hours nothing happened, but I knew I had to be patient. Good luck came my way when something big hit the crawler and fought like a bull in a china shop, using the current and its muscle. I landed what was a 17-inch brown trout and as far as I was concerned, the trip was a success. Another two hours went by; I was in my glory watching ducks and geese and one time a hen wood duck just about take my head off before it spotted me and, just like that, I had another big fish on.

Anyone that stream fishes for trout knows how insane it is keeping a big fish out of deadfalls and that was the case today. In what for me seemed quite rare, my second trout was exactly 17 inches as well.

Day became night and I only had the two bites. I switched to minnows after dark and fished for two hours with no action. In what was the last night for a while that you could do this, I slept on a tarp on the ground. As soon as I lay down, it started raining. I covered up and made the best of it and had zero mosquito action. Monday, May 13 – High 77, low 40 I was fishing by 4:30 and confident. By 6 I had not had a bite. At 6:15, Moby Dick hit my crawler and when I first saw Moby, I thought she was a carp. Then I realized Moby was a sumo brown trout. My third and last bite of this trip turned out to be a 22-inch brown trout, the biggest of my life. I was careful on the handling and release, fished another six hours without anything significant happening, packed up and made the decision, possibly, I will return someday.

Sunset

Mark Walters