Stiff Upper Fish Lip

"Well I was out on a drive, on a bit of a trip

lookin' for thrills, to get me some kicks

now i warn you folks, We cast from the hip

Fish are born with a stiff, stiff upper lip…"

Yes, we couldn’t have put it any smoother than that. Seriously, where would we be without ACDC? No TNT to Shake us all night long. No Big Guns to make us feel Safe in New York City. No Holding me Back on the Highway to Hell. Ok, that’s enough.  We just Can’t Stand Still. Sorry, couldn’t help it.

Yes ladies, gentlemen, and all you readers out there in between. We are in a rockin mood, riding the high left over from spending this past weekend in Northern Wisconsin fishing the ************ River (sorry, would have to kill ya). Not a cloud in the sky, okay maybe one or two, and 70 degree weather through and through. With the sun guiding and our rods leading the way, we left Saturday morning, early of course, on a 4 ½ hour drive to our most prized and privy of destinations.

Toyota Camry Rental- Brand Spank'n New

After filling up for Gas and stopping for omelets and coffee to go at a local Green Bay Perkins, we hustled in anticipation to our fate of the weekend in hopes of small mouth bass and the occasional trout. Cruising to our Early Morning Tunes we discussed which lures we would use and the impact of the rain water in the river.

Due to the most recent Spring rains and Spring Creek Distributions and Run-offs, the river was at a level of 8.20. However, it wasn’t holding, so we knew we would see significant drop of the water line while we were there. When the rain water comes in, the river is warmer, which of course brings the smallies out to feed. However, once the rain water runs out, the river cools down again. And since it is still early in the season, smallies are still on their beds, nesting and recuperating from the excruciating pain of birth and nagging of their husbands to go worm hunting while the female, feeling bloated and ugly stays home to watch the babies and wallow in despair and angst at how her scales will never be the same and…. Whew, I digress.

So after much discussion and deliberation, we arrived in the river just in time after the sun had been up long enough to warm the water. As we waded in, a wave of ease and attainment rushed over us as we lifted our faces to catch the sun and grazed our hands over the water. We’re back. It was like we were thinking the exact thing. We didn’t need to speak or look at each other. It was a mutual RiverBum thing, that can only be experienced in this particular river. Surrounded by nothing but a national forest, rolling boulders, rushing clear water, and rods in hands. Utter Perfection.

So, what could have made the day better? What minute, teensy, weensy detail would have sent us over the top? Oh ya, Reeling in the Bass…

AC Caught this Smallie on Her First Cast...

Like Mike Bass

Who needs a Cameraman?

A Bridge too Far Bass hiding under a boulder

A Fish Out of Water

First Top Water Bass of the year! (Chugger/orange bottom)

Smallie hiding in  a pool outside the weeds of an island.

Pregnant Bass= Hungry + Fiesty

Bass hiding off the eddy of a rapid and big Boulder

AC about to go swimming…

Nothing But Net Baby

Showing Off

Caught in the Rapids

Biggest Bass of the weekend!

A Dark Side Bass hiding in a pool surrounded by boulders and silty bottom

Display in Style

If you haven’t guessed already, we had a somewhat productive time casting. Yes, you can admit it; you wish you had been there.

Hours in the river: 8

Miles waded: 2

Fish Caught: 30

Clear Skies, Clear Water, Clear Mind: Priceless

There are some things money CAN buy and this ain’t one of them.

So we trudged out of the river around 7:00 pm, sore, burnt, and perfectly happy. After de-wading and packing out, AC and Dad rock/paper/scissored to see whether they would be staying in a hotel or a tent. AC had tent, Dad had hotel. Dad won, as usual. So, camping was put on the back burner due to Dad’s real Back burner (old age- and yes Dad, that was a diss.) On that note, we headed over to the Holiday Inn, picked up wraps and a pack of pilsners on the way and were out as quickly as the last beer was guzzled down.

Sunday morning we woke to the sounds of birds humming and…ok, so we didn’t wake to birds humming, more like the sounds of our alarm clocks pushing us to get dressed for church. Mass started at 7:30, so we were up by 6, dressed by 6:30 (AC took a long shower) and down for coffee and fake eggs by 7:00. It took us a while to find the church which is scary because there were only maybe 30 inhabitants in town and the downtown consisted of a DQ and a lantern antiques shop. After mass, we B-lined it to the river. We had a 30 minute drive to this one spot we were looking forward too.

Along the way, we discussed our plan of attack. We had been watching the water level on the DNR USG site through AC’s handy dandy Iphone and noticed the level was decreasing. The rain water was emptying which meant the water was getting colder. Good for trout, bad for smallies. So, we knew we would have to work extra hard today. Casting closer to the boulders, slowing down on our retrievals, and setting the hook harder. This would also mean that we would put the top water lures away (because they are best for hot days and feistier fish) and focus on crawdad patterns, bottom feeders. That way we could slowly drop them up and down off the bottom, enticing the fish low on their beds.

This also meant we could try our crawdad patterns which look like this...

Crawdad Pattern Lure

As we started fishing, we noticed the smallies were sticking closer to the boulders and not biting as well as Saturday. The water was much cooler and so we knew we would have to stay in spots longer, cast more, and slow down the lures so that the smallies would bite...

Bum's Eye View

This was right after AC lost a rainbow trout. She had caught him in the rapids, which goes to show that because trout are more accustomed to cold temperatures, they can stand the fast rapid water better than the smallies.

Reeling in a Bass on the Flats

AC had run into a hunting decoy goose while bush-whacking it on a small island. The details that follow are a bit hazy, but they look a little like this...

Crouching Bum Hidden Goose

Send us your best caption for this picture and the winner we choose will get a FREE Riverbums Bumper Sticker and their caption displayed in our blog. 

He Walks on Water Too...

A New Friend

Caught along a fallen tree...Wood down!

Dad Casting the Shore

Smallie caught under the boulder

Excellent Coloring

Red-Eye Sally

Where AC wants to get married - No booking fee necessary

Close up!

Saying Goodbye to the River

So after 5 hours in the river, we caught only 10 bass and lost one trout. But, the weekend was immaculate, the river perfect, and the casting was Pro. Yellow twisty tails with yellow jigs did the trick for the smallies on Saturday where as the bottom feeders (crawdads, green tubers) were the likely choice of bait on sunday.

Well, it looks as if this upcoming weekend is going to be sans-fishing. But, don't worry, we are planning a big Memorial Fishmorgasbord. So Until next time, we'll see ya on the other side of the river...

Cast Away,

AC & Dad

Justice Fisher

Since the RiverBums have been shipwrecked for the past 2 weeks due to rain, work, and sudaphed, we have decided to introduce you to the newest member of the Riverbums. Her name is Justice Fisher. That's right, Fisher. As in Fisher of men, as in fisherman, as in Justice the Fisherman. Was it just coincidence that Dad bestowed such a worthy middle name upon her. We think not.

Justice fishing the flats in UP Michigan

Now, Justice is more of the behind the scenes fisherman. She holds the tackle box while listening to that young pop female sensation, Justin Bieber on her headphones or looks out for bears as she writes in her Twilight book. Yes, this vampire loving, junior mint snacking, dancing queen is what we like to say EXTRA special. What, may you ask makes her extra special? Could it be her savant Frisbee playing skills or her ability to memorize an entire movie credit? (Seriously, ask her who the key grip boy is in Legally Blonde 2) Sure, all of that may be true. But, the thing most interesting about her is her extra chromosome. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this miraculous creature weighing in at just over 90 pounds and 4'8 with the strength of Hulk himself has one more chromosome than you. Jealous? Of course you are, who wouldn't be? Admit it, you wake up every morning, look in the mirror and are ashamed of your mere 46 total chromosomes. That's because only the cool kids get 47 and Justice Fisher just happens to be one of those kids.

Pure Focus...

So, with that being said, we would like to dedicate this week's blog to the Fisher of men with an extra chromosome. But, most of all, an extra affectionate heart!

AC made a face...

"Stop it, I can't take it anymore."

A Special Olympic Winner Every Year!

That's one special RiverBum. Speaking of special, this weekend is the weekend we have been waiting for since the end of September. That's right my friends, May 5th is opening weekend for Smallies in Wisconsin. And that means...ROADTRIP. Tune in next week when we tell you all about our first days reeling in the bass on the ********* river (Sorry, hafta kill ya).

Until next time, we'll see ya on the other side of the river....

Cast Away,

AC, Dad, and Fisher

Smallie Resurrection on Easter Sunday

As you all may know, May 5^th is opening day for small mouth bass in Wisconsin. Which means it just isn’t possible to catch a small mouth bass anytime before that, right? WRONG! It is possible, but don’t worry if you didn’t get that one, you will have the chance to make it up. How may you ask is it possible at this time of the year in rivers? Well, if you haven’t been hermits like us and actually walked outside this past winter and early spring, you would have noticed the unusually warm weather we have been having. And warm weather means warm water means warm species fish means… you got it…Small mouth Bass!

So, while visiting the local Chicago Fly Fishing shop (add plug here) on Saturday, we learned of smallies hitting on the ever charming and radiant Kankakee River in Illinois. We tipped our hats to the friendly flyers and made our way home to clean our bait reels, put on new line and wait in painful discomposure for Sunday’s dawn to break for the fishing to begin.

And Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. We woke at 5 am, packed up the rental, bit a chunk of a chocolate bunnies ear off and made our way to the 7:30 am mass at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. Which brings us to a new segment of the blog…

INSIDE THE PRAYER OF A RIVERBUM

“Dear God, please grant us favorable weather and safe passage to the (fill in the blank) river, so that we may enjoy the gifts you have generously provided and walk in the way of your wake.

Oh, and help us to catch a SHIT LOAD of Smallies…Amen”

And so with that said, we dipped our casting hands in holy water and made our way on to do what St. Peter did best. Deny Jesus 3 times? No you fools, fish! But we did deny the speed limit as we raced to the river. The drive to the Kankakee River is not the most pleasant of trips. No rolling hills of Wisconsin, or rocky mountains of Montana, or even the moss covered trees of Ohio. No, the drive through Middl Eastern Illinois is that of flat farm land with more land than actual farm and sporadic crime filled towns of the kinds of bums we would rather not associate ourselves with. So, we tried our best to enjoy the 2 hour drive by listening to our early morning playlist. Oh, we should probably warn you. With the all encompassing title of RiverBums comes the burden of being roadies as well. We pedal to the medal when it comes to the wide open road. And with road tripping comes our eclectic array of music. How much do we love music, you ask? Well, if having 4 ipods, 8,000 songs, and over 150 playlists isn’t enough; it’s fourth on our Fishing List… right after rods, reels, and lures of course.

With that being said, we thought we would give you a taste of just some of our roadtrippin songs..

Early Morning Playlist Teaser


All These Things I have Done- The Killers
Ticket to Heaven- Dire Straits
Hey St. Peter- Flash and the Pan

We arrived at the river around 10:30 am, geared on, liquored up, lacquered down, and hiked it to the water. As you may have recalled from earlier in this posting, we described the Kankakee as charming and radiant. Well, it is if you’re from the dessert and have never seen water before. This river can be pretty in distinct portions, but most of it is wide, flat and (here comes the breaker) MUDDY! And if there is one thing (Ok, one more thing) that Riverbums hate, it’s muddy bottoms. Mud means hard walking, cement boots and the occasional pore cleansing mud mask as you fall face first after slipping.

But, it was all worth it. After just half an hour of trying to figure out where the smallies were. In the deep slow water? Off the eddys? In the drift between the rapids and slow? Ding, ding, ding! That’s it! AC lands a beauty of a bass off the drift between fast rapid water and slow deep pool providing water on a yellow twisty tail with a long yellow jig head…

First Lunker of the Year...

It was like your first lick of ice cream after a long diet, or the return of your favorite show after a long winter or the day your kid moves out, sweet and ecstatic relief. Finally able to let your breath out and soak in the moment, taking mental pictures of the environment, smelling it in, spreading your arms out and closing your eyes. But, just for a moment, cause who would want to miss this beauty. So the first smallie of the season went to AC. But, it wasn’t too long until Dad would hook a smallie too…off the eddy of a small cove…

Dad's First Smallie of the Year...

Dad Reeling in the Bass...

Four hours on the river + 2 decent smallies = Not a bad day fishing! Hey it’s better than a day at the office. Despite our worries of the murky lagoons of the Kankakee River we had a good time reeling in the bass, taking mud baths, and getting out in the water…

An Irish Rod Holder

(Fridge magnets that Dad souped up for rod holders...Classic RiverBum)

Anyone Up for a Cold One?

Casting in the Fast Water...

Goose Nest (Scrambled Please!)

Until next time, we’ll see ya on the other side of the river…

Cast Away,

AC & Dad

The Return of the RiverBums: March 31st

Did you hear that? That my friends is the sound of the garage door opening to the music of Darth Vader’s anthem at 2 in the morning. Dun…dun…dun, dun-nu-nu du-nu-nu. From out of the smoke and dust, emerges two weathered and bearded fishermen (Well one is bearded, but she is pretty on the inside). They cover their eyes as the moonlight blinds through the clear morning sky. It is Spring, March 31^st and the time has come to tell of a tail of another year of fishing with the RiverBums!

So, like the prodigal son, Lassie, and Arnold Schwarzenegger…we are BACK! Trout season has lured us out of the cold, dim, dry sadness that iced over our hearts, hands, and waters. Yes, trout season my friends. Every small mouth bait casting pros worst nightmare…narrow rivers, wind, and fly fishing. Don’t get us wrong, we love trout. If you recall our slideshow, Dad has a beauty of a Brown Trout from the Milwaukee river and AC’s Rainbow Trout was picturesque from the White river in Michigan. But, it is the art of fly fishing that seems to put a damper on things.

Despite being elite fishermen, fly fishing is not our expertise. However, we won’t diminish our status, we are still good at fly fishing, but as Obe-won Kenobi so wisely stated, “You are not a jedi yet” And so we are not Fly Pros just yet. But, we are getting there. I mean, come on people, you can’t expect us to be the best at everything. However, it is trips like this, which we begin to master the art of fly fishing and cement our positions as the greatest RiverBums of all time.

So, after packing up the car with our handy dandy equipment (even sneaking in the occasional spinning reel) we smacked on our riverbums bumper sticker, cranked up the tunes on our early morning play list, said our fishing prayer, and drove on. Being sure to wave hello to our old friend, the skunk.

Destination: The Big Green River in Fennimore Wisconsin (SW county of Wisconsin)

Drive: 4 hours

Weather: Overcast with a high of 65 and a low of 35.

The road was pretty clear as we traveled through Northern Illinois and SW Wisconsin. It was 8am when we rolled into Fennimore. Steering through back country roads of SW Wisconsin was a trip all on it’s own. Probably the most beautiful part of the state is this portion. Hills, rolling meadows, castles from the 12^th century. Ok, no castles, but plenty of abandoned sinking barns and cows. Not to mention the eagle we saw soaring in and out of the fog and hills.

We followed our Deloitte map to the first access point of the river. Where County HWY K meets Collins rd. bridge. We got out to stretch our legs and survey the unexplored river.

Dad surveying the river...

Big Green River

 It was narrow and about as deep as AC’s knowledge of carpentry and Dad’s knowledge of fashion (Dad, Springsteen called, he wants his bandanna back!) But the low lying foliage and lack of coverage proved to be quite the pristine environment for fly fishing. As long as you snuck up on them. Ya see, trout are spooked easily. They are the scaredy cats of the scaled inhabitants of this world. They scurry at the sight of any shadow and bail at the sense of any sound or movement. Like Scooby Doo, and that guy from Alien “We gotta get out of here man,” Trout will desert any comfortable corner of the river and be sure to not return to it until the fisherman is gone and gone for good.

That is why sneaking up on trout is half the fun. We get to spend 20 minutes slowly inching towards the water banks all the while focusing on holding our breaths and casting hundreds of times in the same location in 3 inches of water hoping to hook a trout that is no bigger than your thumb. Ya, we made you look at your thumb. I don’t know about you guys, but you can’t expect a 57 year old man to hold his breath for very long and a 23 year old girl with a AAA personality to slowly inch her way up to anything.

So, we hopped back in the car and traveled down Big Green River rd. to find a wider part of the river.

The first branded Riverbums rental.

We arrived at a small road off of Big Green rd. and decided that spot was as good as any. We loaded out, suited up, and headed down to the river. Which wasn't much of a walk as we parked just a few yards away. This river, being as narrow as it is, is surrounded by farm land. No brush or trees means no bushwhacking for the Riverbums. Actually, our waders barely saw any action as the river was quite shallow and the shore so freely walkable that we rarely met the water. Only ever did we "wet our waders" when we needed to switch banks or go after a fish. And speaking of....just after a few casts...off the first tiny rapids...AC landed the first trout of the year...

AC's monster HUGE trout

OK, so it wasn't a monster, hell let's be honest...It was just barely born. But she still had fun reeling it in on the fly rod and in her words, it sure was "Cute." And if that wasn't enough, she had to pose with it...

Size doesn't matter, it's the cast that counts...

Why We Hate Weathermen (And Women)

1) They are liars

2) They are liars who get paid to lie

3) They are liars who get paid to lie and create cheesy uncomfortable banter in the newsroom.

And that was Why We Hate Weathermen (And Women)

And we digress. So in between breathing hot air on our hands and sneaking up to cast, we tried to enjoy the scenic river and take in the moment of our first trip of the year. But, who are we kidding? We wanted to catch more fish, a  lot more. 4 hours turned into 6 and the winds picked up. AC's hands just about fell off and she had to take a break and submerge her fingers into her cotton coat. But, it was Dad who braved on. 

While gallivanting on, we ran into a fellow fishermen from Minnesota. A young man by the name of Carl who is a current student at the University of Illinois for Dentistry. Man with access to drugs, perfect teeth, and a fisherman. What more could AC ask for... Ok, ok all romance aside, we learned something that made our day turn bright side up. Carl so nicely confided in us that we were using the wrong lures for the biggies. Seems, the trout were going for scuds and sculpin, verses the mayflies and caddis we were using. 

So with advice in hand and a tip of our Cub hat to the kind gentlemen fisher, we switched lures and tried again. And my friends, if at first you don't succeed, copy someone else...

Dad's first trout of the season

So with that, Dad landed a beauty of a trout and was able to capture its decent size compared to his net. So it was one trout AC, one trout Dad for the Big Green River. All in all a good day for the Fly fishing Pros- in training. So, after 6 hours, frost bitten fingers, helpful advice, and 2 trout...we headed back home. But, not before we captured the beauty of Fennimore Wisconsin and the scenes it had to offer...

HorseFLY fishing...

(Oh come on, you laughed, just admit it, no one is watching you...)

AC has dibbs on the black one

A perfect pool

Dad casting the shore

Obviously, this town isn't big enough for the two of us

Well, this is just the beginning of the 2012 Riverbums season. Stay tuned for next week where we visit the dazzling, wide, and muddy lagoon of the Kankakee River right here in the friendly confines of Illinois as we fish for our favorites...Smallmouth Bass.

Until next time...we'll see ya on the other side of the river!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad

The Last Cast

It may come as a surprise to many of you that despite our rough exteriors, tough edges, and anti-social demeanor, we are poets at heart. But, of course, a fisherman has to be. After all, a fisherman is really a hopeless romantic who is incidentally full of hope and determination and passion. Under all that gear, mud, scars, and cigar smoke are two simple poets. Searching for the greatest fish. Casting the perfect cast. Hoping until all hope on this watery world has run out and all that is left is a rod and a cubs hat lying upon some stone in the dessert. And so, we would like to debut a poem about the possibility of never fishing again. You may be asking yourself, why would the Riverbums write a poem about the Last Cast? A poem that inevitably sums up the feeling of what your last cast may feel like. That feeling of never being able to fish again.

Therefore, we would like you to close your eyes (after you read this of course) and imagine you have been in a wheel chair your whole life. God comes down and lays his hand on your shoulder and says, "My child, I know you have been crippled your whole life and will never walk again. But I am going to grant you a minute. A minute to use your legs. To be free." After doing so, you stand and realize you have 59 seconds left. Do you just stand there? No, you RUN! As fast as you can, as far as you can. All the while soaking in the glory of the moment. Knowing that in just a few seconds you will fall down and be crippled again. But, you do not waste that moment. You live it, until you cannot live it, anymore. For we never know which cast is our last. Death is inevitable, accidents are possible, and old age sucks. But, we can always savor that last cast...is this my last cast?...or is this my last cast?

The Last Cast

Written by: Dad

Each pressing feeling of fall, the colors now reminiscent

of pursuing winters, nurtures my growing suspicions.

The sharp reminder of fewer catches brought by cooling waters,

and colder winds with natures submissions.

Once, one spring’s anticipation now looms as frosty fears.

Shall my feathered tackle now be found of

thirst and coated dust and distant years?

Will it flow? Shall the fish swim or soar without me?

Could this be, must it be, as it shall be, one day past?

Oh that final flip, jerk n spin.

Will I ever know…or just remember,

that last cast?

 

Until next year, we'll see ya on the other side of the river.  We hope!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad

Fall Fishing- More of the Falls, less of the Fish

It has been some time since we last wrote on the blog. You would be surprised to learn that we do have jobs other than fishing. Yes, we know it may be hard to believe that someone would hire a Riverbum to work for them. Don't they get distracted on an hourly basis? Day-dreaming about bass, cool running water,  and the smell of fresh cigar and pine trees? Well, yes, but just don't tell our bosses!

But despite our grueling work schedule and daily responsibilities, we still found time to cast away and fish the Midwest  In the first week of November we found ourselves on the road to Michigan in the White River. A good 4 hour drive from home, this particular day was probably one of the coldest in November. By 8 am it was 34 degrees and arriving at the river we quickly hopped out to check the water level and then hopped back in the car. For there is something you should probably know about us RiverBums. We don't mind the scorching heat, blinding sun, and occasional bugs. Because we are always prepared with water, sunglasses, hats, and of course, every outdoorsmen's favorite tool, deet. But, despite our winter waders, wader jackets, wind breakers, wool socks, and sweats, there is no proper warming apparel for the HANDS. Surprisingly the main apparatus of the human body for fishing is the only thing that freezes in the winter due to the lack of proper patented apparel lines of gloves. What we are trying to say is, you can't cast and reel with any glove or mitten on the market today. It's just too damn hard and you'll probably lose the fish or not catch one at all while wearing a pair.

So we braved the cold on this fine Saturday in November and fished the day with hundreds of casts and 0 fish. Our conclusion: This river is rarely fished in the Fall. Typical trout season for the White is early Spring. So you may ask, why did we drive all this way when we knew we weren't going to catch any fish? Because, it is a beautiful river and we enjoy hoping that there just may be a trout waiting for us...

AC on the White River

Huge Mushroom on the White River

(A great source of protein had we been stranded. Shroom salad)

Dad casting on the White

The next weekend we visited our close and personal friend, the Milwaukee River. Just an hour drive from home, we made it to our usual late fall, early winter spot at 11 am. We read in one of our trout fishing magazines (The Angler) that trout and steelies don't usually start hitting until mid day, when the sun has had some time to hit the service. Despite the trout and steelies liking cold water, they still seem to respond to the rays of the sun and enjoy their meals most likely around noon. Thankfully, the salmon fishermen were no where to be found as the salmon had died off and the weather was getting colder. We had the river to ourselves for the rest of the day. However, the water was about 3 feet higher than usual. So, we stuck close to the banks, as the Milwaukee is a fast moving river, even when low. And although AC is really quite tall for her gender, she was cautious and made sure to cast close to branches in case of a quick undertow...

The next weekend we decided to try 2 new rivers. So we packed up early on the last Saturday of November and headed to Two Rivers Wisconsin to fish unfamiliar and  uncharted trout waters. Their names, Two Rivers. Man, that took a lot of effort on the first settlers. Well you can't blame them, it isn't like there is a river naming book or something. These Two Rivers, excuse the pun, were situated in the back farmlands of Eastern Wisconsin. Deer, fox and hunters are prominent species found in these lands. We ran into dozens of orange clad, gun hugging, packer fans with one thing on their mind. Venison! Unfortunately, we came unprepared as we geared up in our green and black apparel. Yes, folks, we meshed right in with the scenery. Every minute or so, we would hear a gun shot and the Riverbums would hit the ground like Tom Cruise jumping out of a car just about to blow up. Mission Impossible Riverbum.

We had learned of these Two Rivers from out fly fishing Wisconsin book. But, we should note that this book as written in 2000. Therefore, as it had been about 11 years since the authors expeditions around the country and research on the rivers, not all the information is still relevant. The rivers have gone from a reported sandy, stone bottom to muddy and shallow. Seems that after many a dry summers in Wisconsin, these rivers suffered major blows and were unable to recover properly. While there may be some hefty amounts of bass still lingering in these waters during the peaks of summer. The trout have all but packed up and moved on to bluer waters. Once a bountiful trout haven, now a barren wasteland. But, it was worth the try. At least we know that there are smallies in these waters. And you know what that means. A return visit from the Riverbums, in June...

Dad casting in one of the Two Rivers

Snow falling on Ac's line as she casts for a trout

Old bridge from the 19th century. Then, used for farming. Now, perfect habitat for hiding trout.

Possible Hunter Victim-Dad fishing among the brush.

Riverbums do not partake in. No friends, we do not camp out on frozen lakes, in heated tents, with 4 inch rods, and stand over a foot wide hole, drinking beer. We will just leave that to the residents of Two Rivers, Wisconsin.

So, until next time... We'll see ya on the other side of the River!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad