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Good People - Good Water - Good Fish

After my brother's death, I had to do some serious business planning, so the wife let me rent a cabin on the Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota border to do some work and fishing.  The town is Ferryville, WI.  I spent much time in Wooden Nickel Saloon, working from breakfast to lunch.  Dinner was spent time investigating new places like Great River Roadhouse, De Sota, WI.

I took a late afternoon off and drove up to Minnesota to fish a stream I only guessed at trout stream.  I did my reach via Google Maps and one blog site that led me to believe there was fish.  It was a short 45-minute drive.  Once I crossed into Minnesota, the land seemed even brighter than Iowa and Wisconsin, which are already beautiful. 

The river is remote, with rolling hills and a handful of trees lining the banks.  I don’t remember if I had hits, but I remember the first trout.  You never know where a trout is hidden—sometimes, throwing your line in the rapids works, but it gives a trout very little time to eat your fly. If a fish is, there they aggressively go for it.  That was the case with my first Minnesota fish; it struck hard and fought hard.  For most of the trip, I had been stressed; this was like God giving me a thank you for the work I had to do.  Minnesota Done!

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