The Season Begins

There was a time, when I was younger--not much younger, when I would jump in my parent's car and drive south to the Whitewater river system near Rochester and go fly fishing for trout--on the first of January when the season officially opened.

I mean this in all seriousness.

There was one time I drove the two hours down there on a day that was TEN BELOW ZERO (that's Fahrenheit) and got out of the minivan, put my gear on, ran down to the river and a good hole, and promptly caught one little trout. Then, I hurried my frozen ass back up the bank and jumped into the minivan, waders and all, and drove the two hours back home. I probably could have just let the motor run.

That was maybe 1996. Looking back I can see why my SAT/ACT scores were not terribly high.

Now you may say how can one fish this time year? Well, it's not really matter "how"but "why?" But, that's a question for another post. However, the unglaciated portions of southeast Minnesota have a wealth of spring fed, hard water streams that stay cold in the summer and fairly warm in the winter. So, the water stays open all year and maniacs like the younger version of myself who felt the walls closing in right after Christmas could go out and let the frostbite blacken a few fingers and toes.

The worst thing is when I once slipped on a rock and fell in and filled my waders. Again, these rivers are cold. But, January cold is something else. I had a half-mile hike back to the car. Have you ever read Jack London's "To Build a Fire"? My experience was something like that. But, there was no fire--I was not that lucky. When I made it back to the car, my clothes were frozen. Imagine trying to strip when all of your clothes are complete ice. Imagine someone else...see, that's funny.

Needless to say, I got the car running, the heat cranked, and used the vents in ways they were not meant to be used.

That was about 1998 or 1999. I think I was done with winter fishing after that.

April is not too far away...

...exactly three months...