Tailwater Tribe

Nice U.P. brookie on a dry fly Randy Berndt: THE U.P. Fly Angler Behind the bar at Upchuck's:  Just when you thought you had run out of uses for old chainsaws. IT WAS THE CHAINSAW behind the bar that struck my attention.   Inside Upchuck’s Bar in Kenton, Michigan, the décor consisted of mounted deer heads, hockey posters, and dark wood paneling straight from the 1960’s.   The chainsaw was a vintage two-man McColloch large enough to be repurposed as an apparel rack.   Hanging from the yellow and silver beast were t-shirts and fleece jackets with the official Upchuck’s logo.   My fishing partner Randy Berndt and I were taking a break from an early-morning bushwhacking hike to a remote stream where we had pounded brookies on dry flies and worked up a thirst and an appetite. We pulled into Kenton and bellied up to the bar for beers and burgers.   As we waited on the bartender to take our order, Randy saw me staring at the McColloch.                 “Owner’s been

“You Should Have Been Here Last Week,” he said. “That so?” I said looking out the window; snow flurries flecking gray skies outside.   The guide at Steve Dally’s Ozark Fly Fisher in Cotter, Arkansas didn’t let my lack of enthusiasm curb his. “Yep.   Eighty degrees and sunny last week.   Caddis coming off so thick you couldn’t breathe. Had two hundred fish days, all on dries, got tired of reeling ‘em in.” “Nice,” I said, peering at the weather app on my phone.   34 degrees.   I shuffled to the fly bin, passing the elk hair caddis and found the micro flies.   It was going to be a midge afternoon.   Back up a week.   Spring break approaches.   Caddis reports on the White River sound promising.   The long-range weather forecast looks great: sunny, temps in the high 60’s, touching 70. Even the generation reports are predictable.   Minimum flows on the White River?   I must be dreaming…And I was.   Visions of drag-free drifts, big takes and big fish, the surface of the ri