Thought about fishing in the US and wanted somewhere different that at the same time feels familiar? You might be interested to read about fly fishing the Driftless area in Wisconsin written by Ben Carlson.
Several years ago, I happened to be overlooking a pretty little stream that ran through an iconic French small town. The town was dotted with limestone buildings, cobblestone streets, small shops and cafes, and of course a large cathedral style church. Just a bit farther away was the Normandy coastline and the English Channel. The town itself had a very cozy feel, away from the bustle of Parisian life and laced with local lore, great food, and fascinating history. The hotel I was staying in was even rumored to be Eisenhower's favorite during the war. Turning back to the stream, it was not the reason of my visit. This was purely a sightseeing tour, the only fishing to be had was in my mind and reading the occasional 'What to Do in Normandy' brochure that highlighted the area's excellent fishery.
That particular evening I had time after dinner and leisurely walked along the stream through the town. I saw a man throwing a net into the river, and in my less than perfect French asked what he was catching. "L'appas," bait, the man responded, which led to my next question of what he was going to use if for. His answer, "brune truite," made my heart skip a beat. I told him that I was a fly fisherman, to which he raised his eyebrows in a look of respect. My French friends later told me that they view fly fishing, in their words, as for the royals. While I am far short of that, I can appreciate respecting fly fishing as a classy sport. And so began my fascination with chalk streams, and although I did have to return home to the United States, it was to my pleasure finding something eerily similar.
The Driftless Region, named for its lack of glacial drift when the glaciers path went west during the Ice Age 10,000 years ago, is home to the best trout fishing in the Midwest. This is the region where I live, fish, and guide. In a documentary called Heart of the Driftless aimed at capturing the beauty and fishing of the area, one interviewee called these streams "small versions of the famous British chalk streams." I stand by that comment, as they exhibit many similar characteristics. There are many geological and hydrological similarities. The streams of the Driftless are what many call limestone spring creeks, where aquifers bubble up water through limestone substrate, keeping the streams cool, clear, and neutral.
The limestone of the Driftless is the 'chalk" of England. There is even one instance of a river called the Whitewater River, named so by the Native Americans. While the French explored it in the 18th and 19th century, they were amazed that they did not find 'whitewater' rapids, but the name came from the chalky colour the stream turned after rainfall. The streams are lined with emerald green brush and grasses, meandering through meadows and oak savannah thickets. They do not have a large gradient to them, meaning they meander with flat water and soft riffles rather than roar down canyons among mountains as most imagine American rivers. The streams have a silted bottom and some even have slight weed growth. Most importantly, these streams are filled with brown trout eager to take flies on the surface.
As in England, dry fly fishing reigns supreme in the Driftless. The smaller size of these streams, combined with gin clear and relatively flat water make the dry fly, upstream approach the best approach. The key then is to time the mayfly hatches. We start in April with a Baetis hatch, followed by members of the Ephemerella species, then the Tricos, and rounding out the fall with another Baetis hatch. There is a definite dry fly culture surrounding the anglers of the Driftless, including a bamboo niche as well. These conditions make for very memorable fishing experiences, and not just because of the fish themselves but the way in which they were caught and the scenery surroundings. I can remember one time, just as summer was turning into fall, I hit a dense Trico spinner fall. I crept along the banks, looking for the biggest nose of all the fish, maybe twenty fish altogether rising in this section of flat water. I put my size 22 spinner an inch away from the biggest nose I spotted, and milliseconds later it disappeared in a toilet bowl sized boil. It took the fish a second or so to even realize that what he ate was not a spinner, but in fact my fly. Several minutes later, I had my hand on the fish’s tail and let it kick away back to its lair. It’s times like these, and I have many more similar stories, that I am reminded of why I love dry flies, and why I love the Driftless. The Driftless may not get the press that the American west does as far as fly fishing goes, but the streams are beautiful, full of trout, mayflies, and hardly any crowds. If any British anglers are Itchen for a Test of their angling skills on American waters, look no farther than the Driftless.
For more information on fly fishing in Wisconsin please visit Ben Carlson's website