10/11/99
KEEPING CURRENT
By Tim Lyon
Freud
would have loved the outdoor world.
So much of our human interaction with it has to do with
sex. The Fall season
really exaggerates our dependence on these natural cycles of the
wild. Our successes in deer camp, for example, are all based on
reaching the “Rut”, that magical time when bucks stop
following their brains and start being led around by their you
know whats. Or the more subtle way that ducks need to acknowledge
differences in responsibility based on sex, hens following drakes
into a well placed decoy pattern, only to have the drakes circle
twice and land least or last.
Or, in a more obvious fashion, the way the triumphs of our
pheasant trips hinge so precipitously on
the possibility of a buddy’s female chocolate lab being
in heat, punctuating a walk through the weeds with the distracted
snarlings of every male hound in the pack as they trade interest
in bird scent for the occasional mounting opportunity.
Our
Fall fishing, too, roots itself in sexual drive. Unlike Spring,
however, it’s not the walleyes’ move towards reproduction that
begins the annual Autumn run.
This time of year it’s the copulative efforts of another
lake dweller that gets the ball rolling and, in a classic example
of the George Bush trickle down effect (no pun intended),
eventually puts fish on your line.
First,
and most obviously, we have the Emerald Shiners. No, no. These
shiners spawn in the spring like the bulk of the lake’s fish,
pulling walleyes up on the shallow sandbars in June for easy,
gluttonous meals. In
the Fall, however, shiners seek out current.
Whether a search for food in the form of zooplankton, a
need for the increased oxygen levels of recently aerated water, or
a quest for more habitable living temperatures in the face of the
upcoming winter, is a mystery.
They’re there, that’s all we need to know.
If you’re in doubt, wander down to any lighted dock on
the Rainy River after dark and watch as the water boils under the
artificial illumination.
It’s
not just the rivers, however, that experience this congregation of
shiners in the Fall. Up
in the islands, the water follows the same river channels that it
has for thousands of years as the flow pushes its way north toward
the inevitability of Hudson Bay.
In the tight, pinched off channels of French Portage and
Big Narrows, for example, you can find a flow so strong that it
makes the movement of the Rainy seem tame in comparison.
In these isolated areas of exaggerated current, you’ll
find Emerald Shiners and, logically, you’ll also find Walleyes.
The tactics for take are painstakingly similar to those
employed on the river, vertical jigging from an anchored position
or a creepingly slow backtroll with the current.
Ah,
yes, back to the current. Where is it taking us? Well, to understand Fall fishing is to understand current and
where and when it originates.
There
are controlled Dams at either end of Lake of the Woods.
Opening the Boise Dam at the head of the Rainy River
certainly creates current, as millions of gallons of water rush
their way into the lake basin.
Unfortunately,
such a surge is short-lived if there is no outlet. The water begins a back and forth, north-south roll, similar
to the sloshings in a bathtub, if the Canadian Hydroelectric Dam
in Kenora remains closed. Consistent,
fishable current is dependent on water moving north into the
English River system, which can only happen if the Dam on the
north side is open.
Yes,
once again, a satisfactory fishing experience falls into the
control of a fickle Canadian culture.
We
want current. Current
depends on the opening of the Kenora Dam.
The Kenora Dam gets opened when their is a need for
electricity. The demand for electricity comes on those cold Autumn nights
when every one north of the border turns up the baseboard heaters
a little bit. To get
our current, we need cold Canadians. Simple transitivity.
Here’s
a notion that would serve two purposes. Realizing that Canadians,
like Americans, get cold when they jump into bed alone, we label
October “Sleep with a Canadian” month, enlisting the help of
all our single, promiscuous, northern Minnesotans. With such a
concentrated run on Canadian bedmates, partners for our
“neighbors to the north” would be harder to find. And without the benefits of romantic warmth, Canadians will
click their electric heaters on at an earlier than usual date,
begetting current and, therefore, happiness for those of us with a
passion for fishing. In
short, when Henri the lusty Canuck ain’t gettin’ none, we
fishermen are gettin’ some. And those who physically entertained
their Canadian October dates would not only enjoy the benefits of
companionship, but have the added bonus of being able to keep six
walleyes the next day, the only prerequisite for possessing fish
from that side being an “overnight stay in a Canadian bed”.
Discussions about the necessary receipt from such an
overnight relationship are far too morally toned to be appropriate
in a family column such as this.
From
the hunting of deer to the shooting of birds to the catching of
fish, it all comes back to sex. Freud would certainly be impressed
with the patterns of Fall.
|
