Hemingway Creek and Immersion Therapy

Each year when the goldenrod starts to bloom, I think back to a fishing trip that perhaps nicely sums up my fly-fishing misadventures. It was a trip to Hemingway Creek in Southeast Minnesota in pursuit of brook trout when I was still a relative novice at fly-fishing. We had a couple years of trout fishing under our belts -- just enough to make us think it would be fun to spend a day exploring. Hemingway Creek had a bit of mystery to it, and a slightly poetic sound. It felt just about right.

My friend Eric and I hopped into his somewhat iffy Toyota Corolla wagon and beat a path to parts southeast. This was the trip we discovered the Fremont Store, a throwback if there ever was one. We stopped in just because we liked the look of the place. It was a photo opp back in the days when we printed photos and put them on our own walls with thumbtacks after the trip.

Inside, a couple folks were playing chess or checkers (I can't recall with certainty) and barely looked up when we entered. There was a small selection of candy and beverages, enough to give us something to purchase to avoid too much awkwardness. I recall an air of disapproval with our paltry purchases. For all we knew, that might have been the day's only sale. Outside on a front porch, there were Coke and Pepsi machines. The Pepsi machine was chained and padlocked in place. The Coke machine was left to its own devices. We didn't have to ask what the owner's soda preference was. 

The trip got more complicated after that. We drove to a spot on the DNR (pronounced "D&R") trout stream map we thought looked like a perfect place to park and hike to the stream. We strung up and headed into the woods. Hemingway Creek, we figured, couldn't be too far. So we walked downhill toward the nearest ravine. It seemed like a safe bet.

More than an hour later we finally came to something resembling a creek. We could jump across the trickle at that point, but since it was the only flowing water in sight, we figured this must be what we were looking for. We followed the flow downstream looking for a pocket or a pool with any depth. The first fishy spot we found looked surprisingly good, but we'd walked right up to the edge of the pool from upstream. We saw several fish holding there, including one we guessed to be 14 inches. I don't recall if we made any casts there, but it would have been futile. Still, seeing fish gave us hope.

We continued downstream, fishing a few good-looking pools with reasonable depth for a stream that size. I recall catching a couple small brook trout where Hemingway Creek joins Pine Creek, although I can't say with certainty it was on that trip. For several years afterward, we'd fish Pine Creek up to Hemmingway, and there may have been a confluence of memories as well as waters here. At any rate, after maybe an hour or two of actual fishing, we figured we'd better start the long walk back to the Corolla. This was clearly not how to do fishing trip with time constraints, but I had a wedding to get to that evening.

One memory from this trip, nearly 20 years ago, is perfectly clear. After retracing our steps as best we could, we came to a hill that we were sure would lead to the car. Unfortunately, a field of head-high goldenrod lay between us and freedom. I offered to blaze the trail, taking on a nice coating of yellow powder in the process.

Once we'd brushed off and got on the road, it became clear goldenrod and I were not friends. My eyes puffed up and my nose ran like a spring creek. We made it back to town in time for me to clean up and make the wedding. But let's just say when I showed up at home puffed up and sniffling, my wife had her doubts. Remember the allergic-reaction scene in the movie Hitch? I didn't look that bad, but you'd have thought so from her reaction.

After some allergy medication, a box or two of Kleenex, and an embarrassing evening explaining that, no, I wasn't crying at a wedding, I'd just bathed in goldenrod, everything turned out okay. Oddly, that was the last year I really suffered from fall allergies. I'm not sure immersion therapy is a recognized treatment for allergies, but it seemed to have worked for me. After some fairly humiliating side effects.

A few days later, I was in the nearest bookstore buying a Gazetteer. The next fishing trip brought me to familiar water and a river where I could start the hike with eyes on the river and go exploring from there. And I made sure I was well supplied with facial tissues, just in case.