The photo was taken opening morning. The year I guess 1996.
The year prior I had fished way down stream where this small stream flowed in to the Kickapoo River. I caught a couple fair browns so I decided to fish it upstream. I knocked on quite a few doors.
The last stretch looked the best from the road. I could even see fish activity and lots of it right at the large tube going under the road. I couldn’t find the land owner at home that fall. I wanted to fish this stretch so I went back to the modest house.
I knocked and knocked with no one answering. I walked out in to the farm yard and yelled to see if anyone would answer. In the distance I heard music. I walked to the sound.
The music was stream side about 70 yards upstream. The closer I got the more bashful I got. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I finally walked up to the guy in stream. He picked the deepest area of his tiny stream and he was taking a bath. He had a bar of soap and shampoo and a towel. He didn’t seem bothered by me and I asked him for permission. I was a local and got permission immediately.
I fished his whole stretch after he was done taking a bath and I caught fish after fish. All were on the small side. Some were down right tiny but every little indent had fish in it.
I exited at the tube. I fished it for 20 minutes and caught a fish almost every cast. I remember sizing down my spinner from a 6 to a 2 here. The trout in there were ferocious and slamming my panther but the spinner was just too big for hook ups. That was the reason for downsizing spinners. This was before I was a nut with a camera. I wish I had a camera with me that day. I caught about a 6 inch male brookie that had a kype so big you could hang it on a clothes line. The browns from the hole had butter bellies and were small like the brookies. I caught dozens of trout this day. Not a one over 9 inches.
I fished the stretch one more time the next opener and I have never gone back.
After thought:
I have not been back there for a very long time. You know what a thriving population of brookies and browns mean? Writing this story made me think a return trip to this stretch to hunt for some tigers is in order.
