Visiting Brule, WI: river, trout, pines...

Written June 17

Friday morning we left my cousin Heather's family camp (their side of the family, not mine, alas!) on the Brule River. I've heard about this place for years and seen pics, but only my father and youngest brother have actually visited. This year she invited Cynthia and me and a bunch of her other friends to spend a week there and I leaped at the chance.

 There were, of course, some issues. 

1) The place is about ten hours drive from home, just at the point where the drive is really tiring, but close enough that flying would not save us much time. Still, driving allowed us to bring LOTS of good food and gear.

2) the beautiful pines were in bloom, emitting golden clouds of pollen that shone in the sun and coated everything from cars to hardwood floors with a heavy layer of dust. Allergies anyone?

3) The river by the cabin is a primo trout stream, with no stocked trout and only artificial lures allowed.... and Cynthia is a bait fisherman from childhood. Solution: she bought a flyfishing starter kit on Amazon, watched loads of videos, and hired a guide for a day of fishing/learning.

By the end of the week she cast pretty darned well and was bringing in a few fish... as well as spending lots of time wading in the river and finding that fly fishing does not hurt her shoulders!

Only one fish swallowed the dry fly rather than being lightly hooked on the lip, but it was a legal brook trout and tasted delicious fried with butter/salt/pepper this morning. All the rest of the fish she brought in still swim free, gobbling up shrimp and bugs.... although she would have kept more if only they had been large enough (minimum legal rainbow trout is 26"!)

4) a large black bear ripped down the bird feeder and enjoyed all the seed... and we missed it!

On the other hand we had sweet, delicious well water and a cold, clear river pool at the dock to leap into (ok, only a meter deep: we had to leap carefully.. or just wade),

loads of canoes in the boathouse to paddle or pole, lovely trout, nice category 1 rapids, towering pines, deer eating water weed on early morning paddles, quiet twilight mornings with good fresh coffee and steam rising off the river,

noisy and boisterous dinners,

extremely silly ping-pong (I saw at least one series of four shots that stayed entirely under the table), and fun and interesting company.

The camp lodge is an enormous log structure, generations old, scented by smoke and pine and time.

When we arrived, Heather showed us our beautiful clean bedrooms (with good mattresses, something we appreciate more and more and the years pass).

Folks would gather for coffee in the morning in the big kitchen or would enjoy wine in the evening on the wide screened porches around three sides of the building. On chilly evenings (and one cloudy morning) we would build a fire in the huge fireplace in the high-ceilinged central room. A large wood closet held the long, dry birch logs and, delightfully, one fills this closet through an outside door rather than carrying firewood through the house. The outdoor storage held loads and loads of the logs...

Cynthia and I drove out to a trout hatchery and saw a snowshoe hare, paws still white from winter. We stopped to look at it better... and it headed for the car and hid beneath it! Very funny.

A bunch of folks decided to take a day trip to the city and, no surprise, Cynthia and I stayed behind. Among the things they brought back was a package of granola they had to purchase for the laughs. And no, it tasted good.

Heather did whole lot of great cooking: I think others cooked two dinners. Thanks for dinners and all your other efforts, Heather!

Cynthia and I headed for home Friday morning, aching and tired and relaxed and happy.... and looking forward to doing it again if opportunity presents itself.


"So," you ask, "what next?"
Cynthia needs to move to a different house as the hospital needs this one for another new doctor, so I'm doing what I can to help move. This will keep me here longer than planned, perhaps until the end of June. Then off to NC to sweat and get my boat ready: I figure I can sail out after a week of work... but we shall see.