I'm in Alabama, but this blog will begin in Minnesota.
It was late July 2011 and I was in serious need of a fishing trip. I was stressed out with work and some other things. I had read the most recent Eastern Fly Fishing multiple times. There were several quality pieces about Minnesota Smallies. I happened to have a very nice Southwest Airlines voucher. An otherwise off the radar fishing trip was just what the doctor ordered. It was Tuesday.

I made the call.

Thursday morning at 6 a.m. I was on my way.

I hooked up with Kip Vieth whom I found in the aforementioned  magazine. In the initial phone call, he informed me that there was a garage apartment at his house I was welcome to use.

My pad above the garage.

Sounded good. Two days of fishing, western drift boat style should be about right.

My ride on the river.

I had never actually caught any Smallies. There aren't any in my neck of the woods although they are in North Alabama and Tennessese. I'd heard many great things about them and was very enthused.  My first day  fishing on the Mississippi near Monticello was very slow. I did manage to catch about three of the target species and was impressed with the strength of the fish, but it was certainly not the kind of day fishing that you travel 1100+ miles for.

My first Smallie.

We wrapped up a long day with few catches and took it back to the garage apartment pad.

The next morning Kip and I headed up to a spot a little farther north on the Mississippi. The sky was ominous. We backed the boat into the water in the middle of a moderate to light rain. There was some thunder and lightning  in the area, but it didn't really seem too close. Kip rowed the boat into the river. Just about the time we reached the middle of the river, the largest lightning bolt I have ever seen fired down from the sky and exploded about six inches from the top of my head.

Being the professional guide that he is, Kip left the decision up to me to make the call. The decision was simple, get me the heck out of this river. We hustled back to the car, loaded up, and headed for home.

So, it appeared to be over. An impulsive weekend trip costing me a fairly significant chunk of cash, netted me three fish.

It was time to work on acceptance and gratitude.  Phooey.

But my man Kip had other ideas. Approximately six hours later, we were back on the mighty Miss in another spot, ready to give it a try.

The river was swollen, but in this game, we're just banging the bank anyway. The action was fast and furious. In a relatively short float, we netted about 25-30 Smallies. All came on a large yellow cork popper. Now for the fish porn.

Beauties like this.

And this.

Don't tell me they all look alike, this poor fella had one eye.

Kip Vieth, rower and guide extraordinaire.

So, this trip turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. Catching Smallmouth Bass, overcoming adversity, and making a friend. Kip has a fantastic story of leaving the corporate world to go on his own and be a fishing guide. He was an excellent guide/friend/counselor.

I was able to go back the next summer and hopefully will for years to come. I can't say if it was the fish or the newly formed friendship that made this such a meaningful trip. But really, who cares?