Summer Guide 2011: Fishing with Scott Seekins

As soon as he steps onto the long white dock on the east end of Lake Calhoun, the gaggle of gruff-looking fishermen take notice. A violent wind whips around his vintage white jacket and curly black hair extensions as he struggles to tie his fly to his leader.

Scott Seekins certainly doesn't look like your run-of-the-mill fisherman, with his signature all-white summer suit, pencil mustache and manicured sideburns, but his love affair with the sport is as romantic and remedial as any true-blood Minnesotan's.

"Anyone in fishing knows that it helps take your mind off [your problems]," Seekins said, teasing the line with a natural flick of his wrist. "The sound of the water is therapeutic."

The unlikely outdoorsman is best known for his paintings, white or black suits (depending on the season) and urban omnipresence. You've probably spotted Seekins in Minneapolis bars, buses and streets more than once. But the avid fly fisherman/man-about-town loves escaping his city confines for the serenity of Wisconsin's Rush River whenever he gets the chance.

"It's like a living postcard," Seekins said of his favorite fishing hole. "It hasn't been exploited yet by condos or development, so it's like a time warp. It's like it's the '50s or something."

However, since the local artist doesn't drive, he often settles for dropping his line into one of Minneapolis' lakes -- the quality of which has declined as they've become more polluted, he said (our wind-thwarted voyage yielded no catches).

The South St. Paul native learned to fish at an early age from his adoptive parents, and if his birth year is 1846 as he claims, he's had generations to hone his craft. Regardless of which century he first picked up a rod in, it's clear the suit-clad artist knows what he's doing.

Chatting at his Loring Park studio, Seekins explained the nuances of various lures, flies, hatches, whats-its and thing-a-ma-jiggers. "You could have the best lures in the world, but if you don't have the right one, you get nothing," he said. "It's a humbling experience."

A week after our unfruitful trip to Calhoun, the phone rings. Seekins is on the other end. He can't wait to tell me about the spoils of his Rush River excursion the day previous, during which he nabbed seven trout. "I wish you could've been there," he says, brimming with excitement and a hint of remorse that I missed both the feat and the beauty of his Wisconsin hideaway.

These scenic retreats have inspired some of Seekins' artwork, in which he paints himself (as he does in all his pieces) knee-deep in a picturesque stream -- white suit and all -- triumphantly reeling in a river beast. No matter how remote the location, Seekins insists upon donning his traditional garb while he fishes. "No orange vests and plaid jackets," he said. "We dress for style."

Thanks to his distinct wardrobe and ubiquity, Seekins is as recognizable to Minneapolitans as Prince himself -- well, more like Fancy Ray.

"I remember one time I was up in the river getting all dirty, and thinking 'Why am I doing this?'" Seekins recalled. "We're in the middle of nowhere, up in the Namekagon [River] somewhere, it's like, 'No one's around. Nobody cares whether you're [wearing] white or not.'"

But then, off in the distance, he noticed a couple standing on a bridge. "Hey, you!" they called to him. "You're the one! The white in the summer, black in the winter!"

"I just went, 'Right on!'" Seekins said, pumping his fist in reenactment.

No matter his environment, Seekins sticks out like Bill Gates at a Wu Tang Clan concert. But in the great outdoors, he's no fish out of water.