Back when I was living on the Namekagon River I was fishing almost daily. It wasn’t uncommon to get a few hours on the water before work either. My wife was working for the Sawyer County District Attorney, so naturally I got to know him rather well, and every time we met he would ask how the fishing was going. He expressed an interest in fly fishing, but hadn’t spent much time in the pursuit. During one of our conversations he expressed a more vigorous interest, and I responded with an invitation to join me. However, he purposed what I viewed as a naive proposition. He wanted to fish Saturday evening and have my wife and I over Sunday morning for a trout breakfast, with the trout we caught. I knew the river like the back of my hand and had a good idea were our chances were best met, but the one fish limit of 15 inches plus could be a major challenge when the fishing is slow and no hatch is underway. I decided to fish a stretch that had been consistently productive and knew that to flog the river mindlessly would be a waste of time. It was either going to happen here or it wasn’t. The hot fly for me during this time was a #14 Light Cahill Wet, cast quartering up and allowed to swing. I suggested he follow suit and gave him one. The casting began. As time passed, and dusk started to creep in, I was experiencing a feeling of foreboding, as my fishing and guiding acumen was being put to the test. Finally Tom was onto the first fish, and it looked like a creel contender. After careful examination, with the tape, it came up disappointingly shy of the mark, but just barely. I could see the frustration in Tom’s eye, as it was getting late, and the trout breakfast was slipping into obscurity. He looked at me and asked, “What do you think?” I said, “Tom you’re the District Attorney, do you want to take the chance of your name appearing in the paper?” With that we watched the fish escape from bondage. I thought to myself, if I wasn’t fishing with a prosecuting Attorney………Anyway, we both lucked out and came up with the necessary fixings and had an excellent Sunday morning breakfast. My guess it was the mid to latter 90’s, and the last trout I’ve kept. I’m not opposed to keeping trout; I’ve since lost my cook.
P.S. GO PACKERS!!!!!!