Fishing makes vacation great ~ August 17, 1995

David Heiller

We took a family vacation last week to my hometown of Brownsville, Minnesota. I went fishing at the second spillway of the Reno Bottoms four times.

The second spillway is a place where back-water from the Mississippi River flows under a spillway and into a huge slough.

There is another spillway (called the first spillway) only a quarter mile from the road. Many people fish there because it is more acces­sible. I don’t like it, because the people leave their trash and dead fish and it’s not a very pleasant place to stand around, which is what fishing mostly involves.

Malika and Noah with their catch
on an earlier trip to the spillway.

The second spillway is two miles away, so you have to work a little harder to get there. But the rewards for doing so are great, as I discovered again last week.

My daughter, Malika, went with me the first time. We got up at 6 a.m., drove seven miles to Reno, then rode our bicycles to the spot. I carried the poles and tackle box in a knapsack.

Riding our bikes to the fishing hole early in the morning was a good thing to do. Great blue herons rose clumsily off their perches and jerked into flight. Birds flitted out of the way. Everything was waking up, yet it was quiet, and the early morning mist made everything seem smaller, more personal, and Mollie and I were alone in it.

Small fish are still good fun, 
fishing in Brownsville.

It’s times like that you realize that even if you don’t catch any fish, it’s nice to be alive, which is a good perspective to have no matter what you are doing.

That first morning with Malika, I caught a four pound catfish. Unfortunately, it was the only fish that we caught. I wanted my daughter to catch one, and wished I had let her land it. Malika wanted to take it home, until she tried carrying it on her bike to the car. Then she decided we should let it go.

That didn’t bother me. There was a point in my life when a four pound catfish would have been a trophy, when I was my daughter’s age of ten. No more.

But she had fun casting lures and watching the water roar under the spillway. “I liked it when I fell in the water,” she told me afterward. I fell in the water and caught a catfish, four or five pounds.”

I pointed out that I had caught the catfish.

“We caught it,” she clarified. “You probably wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t come along.” True enough.

Afterward, we drove to New Albin, Iowa, seven miles to the south, and had breakfast. That’s a good way to cap an early morning trip, no matter who caught the fish.

The next morning I took my son, Noah. We saw a water snake poking along the rocks. This fishing spot was a haven for snakes when I was a kid. I have told Noah about it, so I’m glad that snake showed up to verify at least one of my childhood memories.

I caught a two pound northern on a sucker minnow, but Noah didn’t catch any. Once again I felt guilty. “Noah would like to fish more if he caught more fish,” I thought to myself. We took it home and ate it for breakfast.

Getting those lines wet is often the most important.
It's the journey, right?

I went to the second spillway two more times. It may seem peculiar to get up at 6 a.m. when you are on vacation, but it was actually a refreshing, relaxing way to start the day. Moving groggily through the house. Buying a 20 cent cup of coffee at the Kwik Trip, and nursing it down as I drove slowly along the river to Reno. Being alone with my thoughts. Slowly waking up and coming alive.

And the fishing. You never know what you’re going to catch when you go fishing in the Reno Bottoms. The dark power of the Mississippi comes rushing over the rocks of the second spillway, and there are some wondrous fish to behold. I’ve seen them caught there, huge walleyes and northerns and smallmouth.

Not this time for me though. I caught only a few more small northerns, another catfish, and a sheepshead. That didn’t matter. Mom fried them up just like she used to, and they were good, just like our vacation.