Beiträge von LenHarris

  • North Georgia Mountains


    Just got off the phone with John. He was pulling up to meet a friend and have breakfast. After breakfast John and friend are assaulting the North Georgia Mountains after huge bows like the photo above from John's trip there last fall. John informed me that this stretch is know for having the state record bow caught in it.

  • Ted Kirkpatrick


    Ted says: “I try my best to treat every fish with respect – and by every fish I don’t just mean the awesome steelhead, browns and salmon – for inland trout fishing I mean the occasional creek chub, horned dace, and white sucker too! Call me crazy – they’re all beautiful to me… I always greatly enjoy fishing with Len as he shows a similar respect for the many fish he catches and for wildlife in general."


    http://lenharris.blogspot.com/2010/10/ted-kirkpatrick.html

  • The End


    Small stream Wisconsin’s trout season closes the same time and day every year. This closing day seemed quite a bit like any other. The weather was perfect. It was a classic early fall day. The temperatures were in the low 60s and the leaves were beginning to fall and cover the water. The wind gusted at times and made our casts a little difficult. We did not care. It was the last day of the season and we wanted to soak in all of what nature had to offer. The closed season is five months here in Wisconsin and it gets really long because of the harsh winters and the urge to get out and wet a line is constant.


    I met my buddy Aaron at a park near my home. Aaron drove all the way down to Southwestern Wisconsin from the Green Bay area to fish with me. Aaron had his cousin Cory along. We made out plan about two weeks ago. Aaron wanted to try for a big brown to put a punctuation mark on the end of the season. When were finished chasing browns he wanted to try for some brookies in full spawning colors.


    We started at my favorite stream. It is my favorite because it usually gives up some big browns in late September. It is a snaggy mess with many log jams and oxbows. This would be a perfect place I thought for a season ending “Monster” brown. Cory and Aaron had the same basic rig. They had 6’6” medium action spinning rigs with 8 pound mono for line. Both of them were tossing stick baits. I have never had much luck with those and usually don’t use them. Cory had on a size 9 rapala and Aaron was using a size 7 rapala in the Vampire colors.

    I was using panther martins on this type of water. I have not used rapalas in this manner before and wasn’t confident on the use of the rapalas. The two guys were picking up some decent browns in the structure and I batted clean up and was doing well too. We had timed the fish to take the entire morning but our plans changed about halfway through the morning. A car had parked half way between ours and started fishing in front of us. We all three were a little angry but I told them I had other place were could go. I am very polite when it comes to trout fishing etiquette. If I am infringing on some one else’s fishing area I leave. The two anglers cut us off but I decided that I would “not” be like them and be rude. We moved on to my second place.


    The sun was already high in the sky and browns were hard to trick in the light conditions. Aaron managed to entice a large male brown in to coming out of it log jam and make a run at his rapala. It was a swing and a miss. There was no hook up. We decided lunch was in order. The bright sun meant it was time to chase brook trout after lunch.


    After lunch we hooked up our fly rods and Aaron wanted to fish the stream I had recent luck on with brookies. Aaron had read the story in my blog about the 130 plus brookie afternoon and wanted a chance to do the same.


    Two hours later we had our brook trout itch scratched. Between the three of us we land 45 brookies on pheasant tail nymphs. The colors on the brookies were almost neon. Aaron lost big brookie of the day. It was about a 14 incher. It got in to some structure and broke him off.

    It was 3:30pm and we still had some time to fish. Aaron wanted one more chance at a big brown. He asked me to lead him to the stream in the area with the biggest browns I knew off. We discussed out options. Aaron brought up the story from my blog that was about 30 inch plus trout attacking and pushing another trout sideways. He told me that was the place he wanted to go. I had not been there in over a year because of the hard trek to the area and the constant rain in the area caused the main branch of the Kickapoo River to be dirty and high most of the year. Aaron liked his chances there and off we went to where Camp Creek empties in to the Kickapoo River.


    On the way there I talked to Aaron about the rig he was going to use for the “Monster”. I told him I thought he was under gunned. I thought his 8 pound mono was too small of poundage to handle that big of a fish. Aaron was confident in his skills with his rod and I believe he truly didn’t believe me that a 30 inch plus brown could be possible in the Driftless Area. I explained to him the one Joe Chadwick had caught there went out in to the main channel of the Kickapoo River and it tired it self out. If the even bigger brown we spotted there a year or so ago was there, the only chance Aaron had to land this monster on 8 pound test was for it to go out in the main channel on a prolonged battle.


    Aaron tied on his size 7 vampire rapala. Cory and I decided we would spectate and I would be the net man if needed. We arrived at the area we wanted to fish. The sun was much lower in the sky and we felt good about Aaron’s chances. We went to the confluence of the stream and the Kickapoo River. We planned our final destination to be just downstream of where Camp Creek fed in to the Kickapoo.


    We arrived at our site. The Kickapoo River was still up and dirty. Where Camp Creek emptied in there was a clean water halo in the main branch of the Kickapoo River. All three of us got excited when we saw that. When trout get really big in these parts they live in the main branch of the Kickapoo and they some times feed at the mouths and lay in the cooler cleaner water where the streams empty in. The clean water has more oxygen in it and it attracts bait fish and the other side effect is it attracts monsters to eat those bait fish.


    We had a little pow wow before Aaron casted. We decided he should cast upstream and in to the dirty Kickapoo and bring his rapala out of the dirty water in to the clean water halo. Cory and I were kneeling in the tall grass to keep our profiles to a minimum. Aaron’s cast was perfect he worked his rapala out of the dirty water in to clear. It was pounded immediately. The trout hit and jumped all in one motion. The trout cleared the water by a good 2.5 feet. It was no more than 10 yards in front of us. Every thing seemed to go in slow motion. The “Enormous” brown was air born and I can picture it in my mind as clear as a snap shot. The trout looked to be 30 plus inches and it was a male brown in full fall spawning colors. It was a bronze color and I could see its alligator teeth and its over sized pointed elongated snout.. I could not see the rapala. It clearly engulfed it. The trout smacked down on the water and immediately ran upstream in to the main branch of the Kickapoo.


    The battle was on. It ended quicker than it began. The line went limp and Aaron brought back an empty line. The line was not curly on the end. It was a clean break. The massive brown had either bit through the line or the line had a flaw in it.


    We walked back to the vehicle. Aaron was beside himself. He had never had such a large trout on in his entire life. We discussed on the way to my vehicle how a trout that big actually existed in these waters. It could have lived there at that stream and the Kick its entire life and fed on minnows and any other small animals it wanted to. It could have been an escapee from some ones pond or it could have been a brooder released by the DNR. We were all certain on one thing. That male brown was the biggest small stream brown any of us has ever seen and maybe will ever see. Aaron called me three times from his cell phone on his way back to northern Wisconsin. He was babbling and was concerned about the trout having the rapala in its mouth. I asked him: “If you would have landed that trout would you have kept it?” He didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Of course I would have.” “That trout was 6-8 inches bigger than any small trout I have ever seen.” It didn’t comfort Aaron much. The season ended and Aaron has an experience that will haunt him for his entire life. You always remember the ones you lose more than the ones you land.

  • Magical


    Ken Thompson and I met on an Iowa Fishing Board His handle on there is dryfly. I had made an open ended invitation to any of the members of that board to come fish with me some time. Ken is originally from Iowa but when he retired he and his wife moved down to San Angelo, Texas. This is where his wife is from. Ken usually makes a yearly trek up to Iowa each year to fish. He decided that 1,440 miles from Texas to Iowa was a long haul and what was 50 more miles to fish with me. We met in Gays Mills at 7am 9/17/10. We had talked prior and Ken was not a big fish guy. He much preferred numbers to big fish.


    The day started early at the Gays Mills Gas Station. We drove by a brown trout stream on the way there. It was too tempting so we fished it for an hour. Ken had three bites and one brown to hand. I had four bites and three browns to hand. Off we went to my brookie stream.


    The brookie stream was testing our patience at first. Ken hung up in a tree that I like to call "Ron" because Ron Benish has been hooked in it so many times I named it after him. While Ken was unhooking his fly I scored my first brookie of the day.


    Ken tried a couple other flies with no success. We finally decided on a size 14 beadheaded pheasant tail. This was the last fly Ken had to tie on that day.


    We got to one hole and the brookies started to hammer his indicator. Before we knew it the indicator became loose and when the brookie slammed the indicator Ken set the hook and the indicator slid down the line and hooked 4 separate brookies this way.


    On one hole Ken was casting and his back cast picked something up and the fly hit the water and it looked like Ken had changed to a dry. I made the comment to Ken: "Why did you change to a dry?" "The pheasant tail was still working well." Before Ken could respond a brookie hammered Ken's dry.

    It was "NOT" a dry. Ken had picked up a milk weed fuzzy on his backcast. This was only the beginning of the feeding frenzy. I counted 13 casts to that hole by Ken with 11 brookies landed.


    Ken had never had a double before and the hole in front of us screamed "Double" Typically when i fish a double rig I am untying knots all day but I thought this was a "magical day" and Ken had driven all the way up from Texas and I was going to get his a double. Ken put a size 16 pheasant tail dropper on.


    6 casts later Ken had 4 doubles and then casted another 6 casts and had hook ups on 5 others.


    We fished until 1:30pm. I quit counting the trout at noon. We had many more to hand in the last one and half hours. The noon count was 130 brook trout between the two us. None of them were little either. Ken worked some Iowa magic by way of Texas.

  • Trip Report 9/15/10


    47 trout to hand. Largest were about 13 inches. Mixture brooks and browns.

    Sorry about no trout photos. They need to 15 inches before I will take a photo.
    Broke in my new Grandt 4 weight.

  • Trip Report John From Georgia


    I made homemade Kasespaetzel for John while he fished the West Fork yesterday.

    John had a good day on the west fork. Medium amount of browns but quality browns.

    Barb kept the UMPA music going and the beer was flowing until 10pm.

    John caught some German Beer on my deck after the meal.

  • You Can't Catch Them All.

    37 trout to hand ranging from 4 inches to 16 inches. Fished for 5 hours.


    I had a very small brown on this morning and an ENORMOUS male brown lumbered out from under a bank directly in front of me and accessed the thrashing midget and slowly turned and went back under the bank. This was about 6:45am. I held still for 5 minutes and slowly backed up and thought to myself if I had anything it might like.


    I threw the kitchen sink at the big boy with no luck. If I had a big hopper along I think I could have gotten it.

  • Your Last Day Fishing


    Erik Springer and Frank Denallo (Best Friends)


    It was the 24th of September. The phone rang. It was my buddy Frank Denallo from Cleveland
    on the phone. He usually calls me and jokes with me and asks how the fishing was. This phone
    call was different. His tone on the phone was different than usual. I could tell something
    was wrong from the get go.


    Frank and his buddy Erik Springer use to be clients of mine when I guided. I did the guide
    thing with them a couple times and we became good friends. When I quit guiding, I still continued
    fishing with them each Fall and Spring when they drove up all the way from Cleveland to Southern
    Wisconsin to trout fish with me.


    They always camped and lived life to the fullest. Their camp site was a fun place to hang out.
    Lots of camp fire stories/lies were told on the banks of the Kickapoo River. Many beers drank
    and many wild crazy stories were told. Frank and Erik loved to trout fish and it was evident
    in their zest for the sport. There was friendly competition and a little rivalry. Frank and Erik
    were the best of friends and it was a joy to fish with them because it was obvious they loved fishing
    and really enjoyed each others company.



    Frank and Erik had just been up fishing with me about 4 days prior and they had an excellent 10 days
    fishing the Driftless Area. They packed up their vehicle and head back to Cleveland. I got a call
    from Frank to tell me that they had arrived back home. They had five more days to fish and they were
    NOT going to waste a second of it. They decided to hit the stream around Cleveland before they went
    back to work.



    I assumed Frank was calling me to give me a fish report. That was not the case. Frank and Erik
    had fished non-stop for 3 days and Frank needed to regroup and get some sleep. Frank and Erik
    made their battle plans and Frank needed to sleep a little because he was burnt out from all the
    fishing and driving in the last 2 weeks. Erik dropped off Frank and off he went after noon to hit
    another stream before work called and destroyed their wonderful vacation.


    Erik did not make it to the stream. Frank was calling me from the hospital. Erik must have fallen
    asleep behind the wheel and hit a tree at 55 miles an hour. The impact was on the passenger side
    and the vehicle was basically wrapped around the tree. If Frank had been in the passenger seat he
    surely would have died.


    Erik sustained many injuries and was on life support. He had a brain injury and brain swelling and
    the doctors had him in a drug induced comma until his swelling came down. Erik was on ventilator
    and had a tracheotomy and breathing tube in place. He had many broken bones and was NOT expected to
    make it. Frank was going to stay there as long as he could and keep a watchful eye over his buddy
    Erik. They finally kicked him out of the hospital when visiting hours were closing.


    Frank has called me once a week since the accident. Two months ago Frank called me and said out
    of the blue Erik woke up and wanted the breathing tubes removed. Erik could not talk because of
    the surgery he had to put the ventilator in place. Frank was so happy he called me right away.
    Erik has had about 5 surgeries since then and is now in physical therapy to try to be able to walk
    again. Erik does not remember the crash and lost lots of short term memory. He is already talking
    about going fishing this spring in Wisconsin with me.


    Life is precious. Life long friends are hard to come by. What is even harder to come by is a good
    friend that enjoys your love of fishing and the outdoors. The next time you go fishing you should
    treat it like it could be Your Last Day Fishing.



    UPDATE:



    Less than 11 months later Erik has returned to The Driftless Area and resumed his passion.



    Erik came up to Wisconsin with his mother and father this time. Frank was taking summer
    school and could not come.


    Erik needs to relearn how to cast. His distance is lacking and he sees everything close
    up in double vision so his tying on of flies was frustrating. He has made great strides
    back in the last 11 months. Erik had a couple surgeries on his casting shoulder. Erik's
    balance is quite poor and his ability to focus is lacking.



    Erik has not lost his touch.


    Erik is fishing here just one more day and his Father and Mother will drive him back
    to Cleveland. Erik is a testament to how ones passion can help one overcome a life
    changing event. I consider Erik one of my best friends and hope for many return trips
    by him to the driftless area