When you’ve got a mean case of stircraziness, any chance to get outside is an opportunity you seize. (Yes, I know that stircraziness isn’t a real word, but if you felt it, you’d understand.) So we made a plan to head east on I94 and fish the Rush River.

It’s been warm around here lately. Spring is slowly showing its lovely face. Days have been near 40, while nighttime lows are in the upper 20s. Snow is melting. Roads are relinquishing pavement and extra parking space. River valleys stay a bit colder because of the shelter from the sun and strong southerly winds. The Rush was ripe for a late-winter visit.

I was on a fish at the first pool I visited. A nice brown took my hares ear within 10 minutes. This is a spot I fish every couple months, and the first time I pulled a fish from this particular pool. Its coloring was stunning. Giant spots behind the gills and bright pink dots near the tail. I often rave about brook trout colors, but this brown was something to behold.

We hit a few spots until the fishing slowed down. With the exception of the brown I pulled from the first pool, we didn’t see much. Nobody else was on the river. I couldn’t understand why. It’s days like these that make winter fishing great. The fishing is slow, but you can fish anywhere you want. Fish still gotta eat. And at the end of the day, there is still beer and bar food to warm you up.