OUTDOOR

few walleyes for their trouble.

The border water of Wisconsin and Minnesota near Red Wing is a popular place for this reason: The sport fishing season never closes there. Walleyes, bass, northern pike, etc., can be had there for the taking no matter what time of year it is. When winter starts to break up like it is now, boat landings start to back up.

I grew up downriver a stretch in the shadow of Lock and Dam #8. To save you a Google search, that is just south of La Crosse, Wis. My brothers, friends, and I fished the seasonal patterns from bluegills to sand sturgeon and everything in between. A side note about the sturgeon is that we caught them for a higher purpose. No, not the eggs. We sold them to commercial fisherman and used the proceeds to purchase walleye hair jigs and bass crankbaits.

Then and now, I always enjoyed fishing below the Lock and Dams and here’s why. The river has a rhythm to it and you can see it. If you’re staring at it from the bow of a boat, you can feel it. The current swirls and flows, sometimes hesitates and then resumes its course downstream. This time of year, when the water is higher, it’s in a much bigger hurry to get to the Gulf. In the drought days of August, it eases along at a snail’s pace as if taking in the scenery along both shores and not missing a thing. It’s always moving and always changing.

A month or so ago, I was sent a short poem about fishing below the dam. I waited to share it with you for the time when the run was on in Red Wing. To all my Lock and Dam fishing brothers and sisters, here’s to us.

Fishing below the Dam

By Luis Jenkins

On summer evenings the workingmen gather to fish in the swift water below the dam. They sit on the rocks and are silent for the most part, looking into the water and casting again and again. Lines tangle, tackle is lost and a fisherman curses to himself. No one notices. It is simply a part of the routine, like the backs of their wives in bed at night or short words to the children in the morning. Only the water holds their attention, crashing through the spillway with enough force behind it to break a man's back. And the undertow could take you as easily as a bit of fish line and toss you ashore miles downstream. The men shout to be heard above the roar of the water. ANY LUCK? NO I JUST GOT HERE.

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BY DAVE BECK