PILING SIX GUYS onto a tiny Wisconsin spring creek is normally a recipe for disaster. I just didn’t know it would happen off the water.
We’d all gathered for a work function and half of the anglers in the group had never fished in the Midwest, so we took advantage of the subsidized company travel and stayed an extra day to introduce them to the wonder of the Driftless Area.
Once the week of meetings wrapped, we all hit the road to get streamside by dusk; it was June and there were risers to be had.
