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3. SE Minnesota Browns

Tying can only get you so far in the deep reaches of winter here. I had meandered down to this area a few times in January and once in early February, and It came time yet again to leave the confines of my bench and initiate the rhythm of a two stroke false cast and a broken water backdrop. Concentrating on slick seams, I weighted a pink squirrel and worked my joints before the bite of the cold decided this would not be possible. With the properly placed cast, the trout were surprisingly cooperative, especially for the short window of time I had spent on the stream. Without wading or moving much, several docile brown trout, seemingly in a state of suspending animation, had decided the the luster of the pink was worthy of consumption if, and only if, it hit them directly in the nose. The shadow cast by ancient bluffs, whom escaped the last ice age from the expanse of the great glaciers, eventually got the best of me, and I had to call it a day. Spring, and the life it again reveals after you swore for the final time that green is just a myth, will be welcomed with open arms here, especially by the trout.