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There are times when I am compelled to travel unreasonable distances in the span of a single day to experience outstanding fishing. I'm experiencing one of those moments of weakness right now. Following an excruciatingly long winter, I'm finalizing plans on this glorious 70-degree day to travel to the snow-covered woods of northern Wisconsin to do battle with wild steelhead that have begun to nose into Superior's tributaries to spawn.

I'm thankful to have a friend in mind to travel and fish with. We'll drive together through the pre-dawn hours this Sunday morning in order to maximize the hours spent on the rivers. Rivers we hope are not too high or too fast to fish. Superior's tributaries depend on snowmelt to trigger the big lake's migrating fish to enter their mouths in search of gravel beds on which to lay their eggs. In the case of spawning steelhead, timing truly is everything, and there are far more combinations of conditions and factors to negatively affect the run than not.

Our plan is to first scout and fish the Bois Brule north of Highway 2. We'll gladly stay put if the conditions are favorable and the steelhead are occupying their usual haunts. If not, we'll look at the Onion and Sioux Rivers that flow into Chequamegon Bay south of the Apostle Islands.

I hope that my 10-foot, 7-weight rod has the backbone to turn a hard charging 30-inch "chromer" after it decides to quickly burn 100' of fly line off my reel.

I hope that I'll be fortunate enough to witness wild steelhead on gravel beds in the throes of their annual spawning ritual. And I hope I'm quiet enough and my first cast is accurate enough to fool a smaller male "buck" relegated to a downstream position with a brightly colored yarn fly.

Spring marks the season of hope. With the snowmelt rivers rise, some of them northward; their flows quickening as they rush to meet Superior.

With every drift of a carefully chosen fly through promising waters, anglers on the northern rivers will hope for a sign that they've fooled their quarry, and in doing so, hope can -- and often does -- spring eternal. Some days, when the fishing is particularly good, it is only the waning light and thoughts of others waiting at home for our safe return that interrupts our reverie.

Every year and for many years to come, I hope to be on a river when the snows melt and the rivers rise.

Dan Brown's weekly outdoor column is brought to you by Frankie's Bait and Marine, in Chisago City, and St. Croix Outdoors, in St. Croix Falls, Wis.

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