Fly fishing
John Lenczewski, 55, Eden Prairie
Minnesota Trout Unlimited executive director
In spring, I think casting dry flies over steadily feeding trout, and the excitement of southeast Minnesota streams coming alive with splashing trout. After a winter of feeling the subtle tugs of trout grabbing my wet flies, I get pumped seeing everything happening on the water's surface. I watch the lengthening days and warming water trigger a series of hatches of aquatic insects, aka flies, drawing trout up to feed. I watch little mayflies disappear into the rings left by rising trout, and float my imitations over their noses. I have the satisfaction of watching my dry fly vanish into a trout's mouth — and realize that spring has arrived at last.
I am drawn, too, to the energy unleashed by spring snowmelt on the North Shore. I grab my heavy fly rods and wet flies and head north for steelhead fishing. It's like a world away from the southeast. The fishing is equally compelling. When the snow is long gone in the southeast, I chase the ice and snow out 300 miles north to swing sunken flies for steelhead that swim up swollen rivers from Lake Superior. The sense of urgency I feel about steelheading is like nothing else. Old friends and river acquaintances join me to celebrate the arrival of the first steelhead. The fish pass upriver in sporadic waves, pausing briefly. I have to keep moving to intercept them. We follow the leading edge of spring, and the steelhead which herald it, northeastward from Duluth to Canada. The fleeting nature of the fishing only intensifies the excitement.
Springtime leaves me torn between these two regions. Thankfully, I choose both and keep two sets of fly rods in the car until June. I admit that most of my precious fishing time is spent chasing steelheading. The transition from winter to spring is so compressed and I can't bear the thought of missing it. In a matter of weeks — even days — North Shore rivers go from ice-locked to open channels, to roaring snowmelt, to dropping and warming flows. The spring sun warms water temperatures a few degrees and triggers the surge of steelhead upriver from Lake Superior. Yesterday's empty pools and runs suddenly hold steelhead, which pause long enough to grab my fly and give me a spirited fight. South or north, spring is a great time to cast a fly for trout.
Trail running
Robyn Reed, 43, Minneapolis
Pathologist; vice president, Upper Midwest Trail Runners board of directors