In Minnesota, fishing stocking is a matter of biology, sociology and politics–and not necessarily in that order. Consider the scenarios we are watching unfold this year.
On the once World’s Greatest Walleye Factory, Mille Lacs, anglers must throw back any walleyes they catch this summer.
Our favorite trout streams were running low and crowded with anglers, leading to a situation some folks call ‘combat fishing.’ Since we don’t like crowds or combat when we are fishing, my friend Alan Lutkevich of Duluth and I decided to go elsewhere. We’ve spent years roaming the North Shore’s
Scott Thorpe used to be a successful architect. He was well compensated for his endeavors, but he didn’t like the work.
“It’s so stressful and competitive,” he says. “Everyone is so critical of your work that you never feel good about yourself.”
Thorpe eventually came to a career crossroads.
In the past 15 years, significant changes have occurred in the so-called industrial forests of northern Minnesota. During the 20th century, forest products companies acquired hundreds of thousands acres in the state to ensure a supply of fiber for their operations. In the 21st
The float did a lazy loop in the back current, carrying a spawn sack through a deep, slow-moving pocket on a North Shore trout stream, just the place to find a cold-funked steelhead when the water temperature is a degree above freezing. Suddenly, the bobber went down. I set the hook and felt nothing;
Mille Lacs, the most famous of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes, was once known as the world’s greatest walleye factory. The shallow, windswept basin was perfect walleye habitat. There was no need to stock Mille Lacs. For centuries, Mille brimmed with a natural abundance of walleyes.
That was then.