Nipigon Expedition 2015

For about as long as I've known Nick Brevitz he's been enchanting me with tales of monster Brook Trout that live in the Nipigon River in Northwest Ontario.  In the spring of 2015 we began making plans to visit the Nipigon.  Of the twenty or so people that had originally expressed interest in the voyage when it actually came time to make the trip it was down to just the two of us.

The objective of the mission was simple.  We would travel to the Nipigon and attempt to catch trophy Brook Trout while also laying the groundwork for future expeditions.

Approaching the border crossing I was nervous.  I took deep breaths and reminded myself to not make any jokes throughout the process of crossing the border.  I've heard that border officials do not like jokes.  Not even funny ones.

After making it through the border crossing relatively unscathed the first thing we saw in Canada was a nice little welcome center.  The three babes working the counter seemed to be impressed with my charms.  This is where we purchased our Ontario Fishing Licenses.

 Sir yes sir!

 So we told the ladies at the welcome center that we were heading to the Nipigon.  I had been pronouncing it Nip-i-gone but I guess the correct way to pronounce it is Nip-i-gin.  I asked them if there were any other Canadian place names that Americans mispronounce and they said that they have heard every possible pronunciation for Kakabeka Falls.

 Before leaving the center I studied the map of the Nipigon that was on the wall.  My mind filled with wonder and excitement.

Shortly after leaving Thunder Bay we stopped at a rest area that also serves as a memorial to Terry Fox.  I couldn't believe that I had never heard about this guy before.  After having a leg amputated because of cancer he attempted to run across Canada in 1980 to raise money for cancer research.  After I returned from this trip I watched the ESPN 30 for 30 about him.

Nick admired the view.

Pretty soon we made it to the town of Nipigon Ontario.  Nick read the sign.

Here is a photo of the sign that Nick was looking at.

Canadiens have this land known as Crown Land and you can pretty much camp anywhere on Crown Land if you have the proper permits.  The first night we couldn't find any Crown Land so we set up camp in this field where there was a sign that said, "No Camping".  I told Nick if the authorities came we could just inform them that we were Americans and that would be enough for them to leave us be.

The next morning after breaking camp we decided to try fishing the Nipigon downstream of the Alexander Dam.  The river was much bigger than I ever thought it would be.

We found a secluded bay.

Nick caught a Walleye that was tagged.

Here is Nick with his Walleye.  After fishing this we drifted downstream and fished.  Eventually the current picked up and we had a mighty struggle getting back upstream to where the car was.

When we made it back to the landing we ran into two guys who were launching their boat.  I noticed they had a Wisconsin License plate and I asked them where they were from in Wisconsin.  They seemed like nice guys.  Little did we know at the time that we had just run into Midwest Fly Fishing Legends Keith Behn and Dave Pinczkowski.  We took a moment to admire the stickers on Dave's camper.  He seems so be a fan of a the band known as the Allman Brothers.

Soon it started raining so we headed into town to check out the museum.  This is all that remains of the world record Brook Trout.

This is another cool Brook Trout mount from the museum.

That night we drove around looking for a suitable place to set up camp.  It started to get dark so we ended up staying in a parking lot on the south end of Lake Nipigon.

I think I was boiling potatoes or something.

The next day we did some more exploring and fishing.  After seeing this rainbow we drove to the end of it and took some of the Leprechaun's gold.  It was nice to have funds to buy the gas we needed to return to Minnesota.

The brook trout were much darker here than in the Driftless.  I think Nick must have caught this one since I usually only dabble with trout on a fly.

Here is the falls on the Wolf River.

Nick caught a Brook Trout.

Everywhere we went the Lupine were in full force.  I think they are my third favorite flower after Sunflowers and Morning Glories.

They make pink ones as well.  I was reading a book and it said that rubbing Lupine all over your body is a good cure for Chlamydia and Syphilis.  I'm happy to say I haven't had any symptoms since July.

That night we finally found a nice place to camp on the banks of Lake Josephine.  Nick was studying the map to figure out where we would fish next.

 The socks were hung on the clothesline with care a lot in hopes that a huge Brook Trout would soon be caught.

We managed to catch a few decent Lake Trout.

 I was so happy.

 We figured there might be trophy Brook Trout at the end of this road.  There wasn't.

 Here is a fierce section of the Nipigon.

 We ran into our friends Keith and Dave on the road one night.  They were really nice to us.

Here was Nick preparing our Lake trout to eat.  This must have been around 11:00pm.  Since we were usually fishing all day we usually wouldn't even start gathering firewood for dinner until it got dark.  Things take a lot longer in the bush.  We usually wouldn't get to sleep until well after midnight and were always waking up early to go fishing again.  This trip was far from relaxing but it was really fun.

 I was boiling more potatoes.

 Lake Trout ala Nick

 It was around this time where Nick said something about how doing this kind of thing was the best.

 Lake Trout roasting on an open fire.

 The next day I caught my biggest Brook Trout of the trip.  A whole twelve inches.

 It flopped back into the water before we could get a good photo.

 The Nipigon.

 The Nipigon.

 We ran into our friends Keith and Dave again.  I think they felt sorry for us in our canoe but they invited us to visit them at their camp one night.  It was good time.

Here was Nick fishing another small river that we found.

I convinced Nick to pose in the Lupine.

 On the way home we did some fishing on Minnesota's North Shore streams.  I caught this Brookie.

 More Flowers.

The Nipigon Expedition 2015 was a good one.  Usually Late June would be prime time for catching trophy Brook Trout up there but I guess the late spring had something to do with water temps not being ideal.  When I go back I will bring a motor boat and a vast array of sinking fly lines.  I still have a lot of learning to to in that department but I am lucky to have many friends that I can glean advice from.

The Hunt

One day every year I put away my fly rods and take out my gun.  That day is the Minnesota Firearm Deer Hunting Opener.  This year it was Saturday November 7th.  All fall I had been looking forward to that day.  I even went as far as making up a rhyme to be sure I wouldn't forget the date.  "Remember remember the 7th of November" I would say to myself throughout the day.

I woke up around 5:30am in the basement of my parents house in Taylors Falls MN.  I don't think I had fallen asleep until around midnight and am used to getting around 8 hours of sleep.  I felt like going back to sleep but then I remembered my pledge from the night before.  Nick Babcock had made a Facebook post saying, "Good luck to all my family and friends going deer hunting starting tomorrow. Be safe, and I am looking forward to all the big buck pictures!".  I replied saying, "I will try not to disappoint.".    I always try to be a man of my word so I decided that I must slay a buck.

Shooting time starts a half hour before sunrise and on Saturday that was 6:28am.  For most of my life I have always stumbled out into the the dark forest well before shooting time.  I noticed that many times I would spook deer out of their resting places before I could even shoot them and then I would freeze in my blind for thirty minutes or so before I could make a legal kill.  I knew that there was something wrong with this system so for the last two seasons I have done things differently.  I now do things the Eddie Rivard Way.

The Eddie Rivard Way is a system of rules I have developed using common sense.  The first rule is, "Never enter the forest until shooting time has commenced".  This way if you see a deer that you want to harvest you can legally shoot it before it runs away.  At this point there are no additional rules.

Around 6:30am I entered my dads workshop and picked up the gun and bullets he had laid out for me.  It was a 270 caliber rifle and although it wasn't the same gun I used last year I figured it would do the trick.  Once I was outside I loaded and did a couple practice aims.

The trick to shooting a deer with a scoped rifle is to line up the X with the spot on the deer that you want the bullet to enter.  I practiced holding the rifle and making the X part stay still for a long enough time where I could pull the trigger.  After about 15 seconds of that I felt that I was ready.

There is a style of hunting known as Indian Style and it is my favorite way to hunt deer.  Indian Style involves sneaking through the forest taking a quiet step or two and then standing still for a while becoming one with the forest.

The location of my blind is far back into my parent's woods.  I began my walk hunting Indian Style through the forest.  I heard many sounds.  Most of the sounds I heard were squirrels but some I could not be sure of.  I thought that some of the sounds could be Waawaashkeshi which is the Ojibwe word for White Tailed Deer.  If you are hunting Indian Style it helps if you speak the language.  I have spent years of my life studying Native American language and culture.

After about 15 minutes I had just made it over a hill when I sensed something.  I turned around and saw a deer moving through the forest.  I saw antlers on his head.  He looked at me and then looked forward and took a step. I raised my gun and could see that my shot was obstructed so I shifted my stance to the right about a half step.  I then took a second to line up the X thing on the scope.  I pulled the trigger and the bullet flew through the air towards the deer.  I heard a bang and the deer had disappeared over the ridge line.  I chambered another bullet and began my pursuit.  I wasn't sure If my bullet had hit its mark.  When I got to the spot where the deer had been standing I saw all this red liquid staining the foliage.  I knew it could be one of two things.  I decided it was real blood because why would anybody put fake blood in the forest?  I followed the trail of real blood and at the end of the trail there was a big buck.  Ayaabe I muttered in Ojibwe.  That means buck for those who haven't spent years of their lives studying native language and cultures.

After thanking Ayaabe for his life I took a photo of him with my cell phone and posted it to Facebook.  It would be selfish to keep a moment like this all to myself.  Over the course of the next few days 67 people would "Like" my photo.  I must be famous.

Then I looked at my phone and noticed that I had a text from Pa.

He had heard the shot and wondered if it was from my gun.  I sent him a photo of my buck and the coordinates of my position.  It wasn't long before he reached the rendezvous point.  I was glad I didn't have to try for a selfy.

 We got a couple nice shots.

I could see that my bullet had hit it's mark.  I'm glad I spent all that time practicing holding the X still.

 It was nice that he was so close to Greg's driveway.  We just loaded him up in the trailer.

 Hasta la vista baby!

Eddie's Triple Play

As I was driving home from Duluth on Monday morning I wondered how much rain had fallen on the central part of the state on Saturday and Sunday.  While no amount of rain would ever keep me from going fishing the amount of rain that has fallen definitely helps me decide where I will fish.

Nobody has their finger on the pulse of Driftless Trout like Nick Brevitz and it wasn't long before I had him on the line.  I was actually quite surprised that I didn't catch him in the act of fishing but a broken car and a bevy of unreliable friends had him stranded at home for the day.

"Please come pick me up and take me with you!",  Nick whined sounding more like a seven year girl than a strapping 20 year old dude.

Actually I think I may have been the one to suggest that we team up.  I was able to put up with him for a week in late June of this year when we traveled north to the Nipigon so I figured putting up with him for one more day wouldn't be all that bad.

I arrived at Nick's house at 1:04pm just as he had finished running a few errands for his parents and we were on our way.  Sometime in August I had misplaced my Wisconsin fishing license so we made a visit to Wal-Mart in Hudson to pick up a duplicate.

We arrived at our destination sometime between 2:00 and 3:00 where we immediately put some distance between ourselves and the bridge.

Nick started catching trout immediately on his number 9 Panther Martin brand spinner.  Over the course of the summer I've probably seen him land 100 trout on that savage apparatus.

 Even a piece of heavy equipment dangling from the Brook Trout's jaws does little to diminish the beauty of these amazing creatures.

After seeing Nick catch 7 fish without even a bite I decided I needed a change of pace.  If they are hitting #9 Panther Martins nothing will stop them from devouring the Yellow Sex Dungeon streamer.
While Brown Trout are not particularly common on this stretch the Yellow Sex Dungeon is a proverbial Brown Trout magnet. Bam first cast. Brown Trout.

 We came to the next pool where Nick noticed a few trout rising and suggest that I try fishing a dry fly.  I didn't have any dry flies with me but I did remember my box of terrestrials.  I tied a size 8 Pink Chernobyl onto my 12 pound fluorocarbon tippet.  Second drift bam!  Rainbow Trout.

A few drifts later bam!  A Brook Trout.

In recorded history there has only been 16 instances of an angler catching a Brown Trout, Brook Trout and Rainbow Trout in a single body of water on a single day.  Well I guess this is number 17 and only the 4th time that it has been done with fly fishing gear.  In one fell swoop I have pretty much cemented for myself a future position in the International Fly Fishing Hall of Fame.  I do my best to stay humble though.

I was so happy.

Nick was happy too despite his choice of head wear.  I wonder if anyone has told him that the Detroit Tigers are currently the last place team in the storied American League Central Division.

Nice Brookie.

 Continuing upstream I notice some cool mushrooms growing out of a branch that was hanging over the stream.

 I collect spores, molds and fungus.

 We fished until dark.

The Last Hurrah

With the start of classes tomorrow signaling for my freewheeling lifestyle to come to an end for a while it was prudent that I get out for one last fish today.  I was running low on my signature rubber legged Wooly Bugger pattern so I took the time to tie up three more before I hit the road.  It takes me about 90 minutes to tie three flies.

With the knowledge that most rivers would be muddy due to last night's storms I also knew a little stain in the water can work in a guy's favor.  A chip, chair and a chance as well as a full tank of gas is all I need to find fishable water.

The first stream I came to had about six inches of visibility.  I'm pretty confident in my ability to catch fish in even the most adverse conditions so I slogged away for two hours without even seeing a sign of a fish.  I was completely devastated and thought about calling it a day then a voice in my head said, "If you fish it, they will bite".  I decided that I really didn't have a problem fishing some more but it was going to have to be in a different place.  I took a look at my maps and started driving.  I had an idea of a place that might have clear water.

While I was on my way I pulled over and placed a call to my friend Shebs.  I wasn't surprised to hear that he was out in Wisconsin having an excellent day on a popular river.  Hearing of Sheb's good fortune gave me hope that the fish were indeed biting today.  I just needed to find a river where they could see my fly.

As I continued on towards my destination I crossed over a river that I was sure would be muddied up.  To my surprise I could see the bottom in over a foot of water.  I found a good spot to pull over and started fishing.  Fishing this river was something I have always planned on doing.

I moved silently through the river taking my time with my approach to prime casting distance.  On the third cast I felt a tremor in my rod and I knew exactly what that meant.  Fish on!

She made a gallant effort but in the end my biceps and my five weight Sage DS2 proved too powerful.  I was about to whip out the tripod to get a good photo of myself with the trout when I heard some giggling in the bushes.  I have encountered forest fairies in the past and their laughter is unmistakable.  I told them my hard luck story and feeling sorry for me they agreed to take the photos for me.  Thanks fairies!

 19 inches baby.  At that moment I thought about calling it a day but it was still early and I had some energy left.

 I quietly made my way back to the run and while I was stripping in my second cast I felt an immovable object.  It was too bad for that fish because I am an unstoppable force.  He went one way and I went the other.  He darted and I dived.  He shuffled and I shimmied.  He flipped and I flopped. He didn't want to be landed but I wasn't backing down.  In the end there could be only one victor.  I heard cheers as forest fairies had watched the whole thing happen.

They agreed to take one more photo as long as I promised to bring them some candy on my next visit.

 Here is the bugger that I caught both of the fish on.

 It turns out that Creek Chubs like it as well.  If you can find a trout stream with Creek Chubs you will find large trout.

 After fighting two epic battles I took a break on the shore.  I had just enough energy left to snap a quick selfie.  While becoming an expert at catching trophy trout has taken years of hard work my good looks are just a byproduct of superior genetics.  Thanks parents!

 This river has plenty of logs.  "If it ain't got logs then it ain't got hogs." is what I like to tell my students about selecting rivers to fish for trophy trout.

 As I came to this bend in the river a part of me wanted to see what lay beyond.  It was still early and I could have fished for at least another two hours.  I took some time to reflect on the day as well as the awesome summer I have had.  It really couldn't have went any better so I decided to call it a day.

 I was so happy!

Eddie Rivard Fly Fishing is now on Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/eddierivardflyfishing