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I drove past the swollen river slowly. It had maybe six spots for fishing. Sixteen pickups with more rigs parking as I crawled by was too much for me. More miles, Next river, foamed chocolate milk, four spots, nine vehicles. Just drive, keep going, Next river, had an uncountable number of cars and trucks with wadered wanders of all ages in every direction up and downstream from the road bridge.

My client was getting antsy. I told my self at the next river no matter what, we would get out and fish. I rounded the bend and no one was there. So I said out loud as my truck rolled to a stop. “Grab your rod and don't look back, head for the big rock” as I pointed and I almost pushed him out.

He went down the hill as fast as the water pouring downriver. I left the net and strung my rod as I walked. We both took up spots on opposite sides of the big pool. The tail-out was semi trans-parent and I did not see any fish. “Take your time, get the feel I offered”.

“What do I do”, came over the roar of the river. I said “watch me sweep cast, feel your sinker on the bottom and try to time it to the rivers current, see if you can feel the flow”. “Bounce the lead, feel for a tap”. “Don’t cast to the calm, get it into the swirls and let the egg sinkers do what their supposed to do”. “Then you do what we practiced”. “Feel the river bottom in your hands and let your fingers set the hook”.

Two sweep casts later I hooked a fish. It rod shocked my client to another planet. He was vocal. I was so steering wheel tense I over set the hook, but the fish and the line stayed connected. The trout erupted and went upstream. Then it dove deep and shuddered mid stream.

I exhaled and my lone audience member kept casting. I asked him to hold off knowing the fish would wake up and go ballistic. When the trout decided to make its move it rolled subsurface and with the down stream flow it shot past me and I hauled line to keep tension on the fish. The rod bent in half, in slow motion, and the fish rolled into the line facing downstream pirouetting itself on the long axis like a lunar space shot.

When it landed, the fish showered silver and hinted of a pink slashed side. Then the line snapped. I said something I learned in the U.S. military book of unrepeatable phrases. I backed out of the hole and sat on the bank. As I tied on a new spawn fly I noticed the first truck pull up and park. I told my guy to start to sweep the river and feel the sinker bounce bottom. “Keep trying, you’ll feel it”. “If it stops, hit lips”.

I hold my spot. Before I finished tying on a new fly, two trucks with four guys surrounded the upper hole. My client hooked a dark steelhead. He reared back and it rolled and tail slapped, before I could offer any guidance the fish snapped his line. One lone fisherman is wading downstream behind me. I just breathe.

Both sides of the river were clay water colored and verbally stained. I waddled back into the flow and lit a cigar. I looked at each guy one at time fishing like I was calling for my pitch from the mound. I puffed and started to sweep cast.

With everyone watching each other, I stopped my oral tutorial.
Ten casts I set the hook. It was a small trout, I knew it wouldn’t go four pounds but I had a steelie on. I rod run it and wore the fish out quick. When I let the male steelhead loose everything in me relaxed.

Three sweep casts later I hook a silver bullet. Everyone pulls out of the hole and I go center stage. It rockets for the spillway, the concrete abutment and volumes of water help me turn the steelie. The under water jolts rip line off the reel. The fish is everywhere deep at once. On a Roundhouse run I hold the rod hard back to bungee the fish into submission. Its bouncing now unseen subsurface. The fish lunges and I lighten up and finger feather the line.

From just below me now with an out stretched net is a young man. Its over. I ask him to pull the spawn fly free and release the egg dripping hen. He leans into me and I think he’s going to say congrats or thanks. What I hear is “how do you do that”? How do you catch them?
I smiled at him and said “just learn to go with the flow”.

The trout whisperer

Karl "Trout Whisperer" Seckinger is a respected JustNorth author and outdoor adventurer. His guide service, DuNord Guide Service, and the trout waters that he fishes in the Superior National Forest, are some of the most tightly guarded secrets among Trout enthusiasts in Minnesota and Wisconsin.

Contact Karl at 218 - 525 - 0442 or write to him at:

DuNord Guide Service - 6999 Culbertson Road, Two Harbors, Minnesota 55616

Learn more about DuNord Guide Service in the JustNorth MarketPlace.