I packed up Friday night with visions of steelhead trips past in my head.  I think we all tend to rely on positive fishing and hunting memories when we’re trying to envision how our future trip is going to go, and as I organized all my gear I thought about the steelhead trip when Jeff and I landed 15 fish in around 7 hours, after hooking into 35 of them; it was a day of steelhead fishing that I’ll never forget.

But, as with all good things, sometimes they come to an end.

I don’t know what has changed, but the Pere Marquette River in recent years just hasn’t been what it used to be; in fact, Jeff and I haven’t landed a fish there in the last couple years.  And Saturday, as we headed to our first spot, it was definitely a little disheartening to see so many fishermen fighting for so few fish – not literally fighting mind you, but the fisherman-to-fish ratio was not very good.

We never even made a cast.

After heading back to our cabin, playing a little poker, and watching the evening’s basketball games we had a game plan for the next day:  try a different spot on the way home.

Thankfully, one of Jeff’s friends, whom I’d never met before, told Jeff that he’d show us a few of his sweet spots on a local river, which just happened to be on our way home.  Bonus!  I honestly knew that he and I would get along, since it’s hard to find anyone who will share an outdoor experience with anyone anymore.  It seems that hunters and fisherman get real possessive of “their” spots, so I really respected him for letting us tag along.

Unfortunately, we didn’t land any steelhead – unless you count a few steelhead smolts that made it to shore – but we had a great time.  We learned a new stretch of river – a little gem in the middle of farming country, which the local farmers actually share with the public – and we got to experience one of the things that keep me participating in the hunting and fishing community:  camaraderie.

Plus, I actually was able to prove to myself that I can still actually cast my fly rod; some of those casts were so pretty – if I say so myself – yet those finicky Mid-Michigan steelhead still wanted nothing to do with them.

Note: Thanks again, Chris, for letting us tag-along.  It really was a great time, despite the rain.

Based on past trips, I’d like to outline a few scenarios/situations/events/mishaps/moments of laughter, etc., which might transpire during the trip.

• At least one person will be partially buoyant, because they’ll choose not to believe me when I tell them that the hole they’re trying to wade through is not the same one we waded through earlier.
• I will personally have to clean ice out of my rod eyelets about 1000 times, which will bring the grand total for the group to 3000.
• I will curse Jeff’s name and wish bad things happen to him, after he hooks the first fish of the trip with his second cast (it almost always happens).
• Between three of us, we will consume two full plates of cheese ranch fries (it’s a yearly tradition), and not feel a bit guilty about it
• I’ll lose a pair of sunglasses (and that’s why I buy cheap ones)
• One of us will make it known that their “legs are burning”.
• Two of us will plot against one of us (Jeff), and try to convince the fish Nazi that we don’t need to get up at 5am on Sunday to catch fish – especially since we can fish all of Saturday night.
• To Ron’s dismay, Jeff and I will argue about something (we’re brothers, it happens)
• We’ll get to see a fellow fishermen in his “Spidy” pants (don’t ask, you don’t wanna know).
• We’ll have a complete blast, fish or no fish.

I can’t wait to get outside, I can’t wait to hang out with the boys for a few days, and I can’t wait to bask in some of nature’s finest creations – matching wits with the cagey and finicky steelhead.

It’s going to be a great time.

But as I headed home from work the other night, I drove over a bridge that I cross every night – a bridge that crosses the Grand River.  And as I crossed the bridge, the setting sun was casting its modest glow across the slow, flowing water; every ripple was visible within the sun’s ray, and it seemed as though a huge spotlight was being held over the river itself.  It was at that very moment when I forgot about work, and started thinking about steelhead.

We have a weekend trip planned already, and we’ll be heading up to the Pere Marquette in just a few weeks.  Work, computer screens, and the stresses of work will be left in the dust, and it will just be three guys, some fly rods, the river, and some challenging, majestic steelhead.  It will be an excellent way to kick off a week off from work, and I cannot wait for it to get here.

And while the next few weeks will not provide for much opportunity to get outside, it will be nice – as I cross that river every evening – to look down the riverbed, and dream about the perfect presentation.  Even if it’s only for a few seconds, it will still provide me with a little relief from the pressures of life.

And getting through work will be a little easier, knowing that each day puts me one step closer to the trip.

Everyone had a great time, and, of course, Jeff landed the biggest fish of the day.  And because he didn’t want to stop there, he also managed a double – landing two fish on one rod.

Such luck!

For those of you who can view East Lansing’s WKAR, channel 23, the fishing footage will be aired this Thursday night at 8pm on MOOD-TV.  The show also airs at various times on all Michigan PBS stations, as well as stations in Northern Indiana, Illinois, Ohio, and Wisconsin.

If you’re not familiar with the show, though, or if you’d like to watch before tomorrow night, you can do so on their website; it’s the September 23rd show, and it’s already posted for everyone’s viewing enjoyment.

I’m sure that Jeff is very grateful to Steve for letting him tag along.  And, as you can see at the end of the segment, everyone on the boat eventually wised up and didn’t let Jeff fish anymore.

In my mind, and probably because I knew that I would only make it up to the Pere Marquette River once this year, I focused on the positive of that statement – the “off the hook fantastic” part, and blocked out the “simply very tough” portion – and, as it turned out, the fishing over the weekend definitely turned out to be “very tough”.

Bummer.

We arrived on the river very early, and were lucky enough to have the spot we wanted all to ourselves.  Now, that normally means one of two things:  the fishing is fantastic and we’ve been very lucky to be the first ones there, or the fishing is horrible and that is why the parking lot is empty.  This trip, both of those things turned out to be true.

A few of us started to try their luck immediately – regardless of the pitch-black conditions on the river – while two more of us relaxed on the bank and waited for daylight.  I was one of those who waited for more light, because I hate fishing in the dark, but I hit the river immediately once the first signs of dawn came.

But the fish never showed.

Well, I guess they did for Matt.  He managed to land a nice little Jack right at first light, but the low, clear water and sunny skies made for some tough fishing.  We fished for a few hours, and then decided to eat some lunch, check into our room at the lodge, and take a nap before trying our luck in the late afternoon/evening.

I awoke with anticipation.  The skies were overcast – perfect conditions for steelies – and the air was filled with excitement…..until we arrived at the river.  Our tranquil non-inhabited spot from the morning was now blustering with activity.  Apparently every guide in the area had heard that this section of the river did, in fact, have fish – and they were taking full advantage of it.  Catching a fish was tough, and finding fish was even harder, so by the afternoon word had traveled fast that this section of river did have some fish.  If you’re a guide on the river, and it’s the end of the day and your client hasn’t caught a fish yet, you have to go where the fish are.  Unfortunately, that didn’t leave any place for us to fish.

And, with that, went our fishing trip.

We chalked the trip up to experience, ate some ice cream from Dairy Queen to make ourselves feel a little better, and headed into town to find some dinner.  We enjoyed some tranquil time on the river; watched a mink meander along the bank; ate plenty of food; played cards; watched some of the NCAA tournament; and had a great time hanging out with the “boys”.

I guess it wasn’t all for naught.

This video is from last May, and it features Jeff, along with a few new friends, chasing after a gobbler known in our parts as “Mr. Waddles”.

Enjoy the video, and you can expect a full fishing report sometime early next week.  Earlier this year, I wrote a post about how an electric barrier on the river was finally being turned off, and after reading one of the local reports, it appears that the barrier’s dormancy has had some positive effects.  We can’t wait!

But, regardless, fish or no fish, I’m sure we’ll manage to HAVE FUN!

What I experienced this weekend, though, is one of the big things I love about Michigan – the definite change of the seasons.  And while it was a little depressing to know that the melt off would signal the end of our ice fishing for the season, it’s great to know that the melt off also signals to the steelhead that it’s time to head upstream.  You have to love the variety that Michigan’s woods and water provide!

And, I can’t forget, that this warm spell will also start to stir something inside Michigan’s turkey flock as well; they will starting thinking about those good-looking hens, and start gobbling from their roost very soon.  Of course, come the second of May, I will be in those woods and appreciating the newly regenerated woodlot and hoping that a lovesick tom heads my way.

Watching the changing of the seasons in Michigan is a very unique and one-of-a-kind experience.  And not a season goes by that doesn’t provide something exciting and stirring to do outdoors – and this year it has been even better. Usually this time of year I would be experiencing some serious cabin fever, but with my new ice fishing discovery, those feelings were definitely kept at bay.

As March arrives, there are no thoughts of cabin fever or seclusion.  The thoughts I have are those of anticipation and reflection; reflection on the first fish I ever hauled through the ice, and my wife’s first pike through the ice; reflection on quads heading across the frozen tundra that was Houghton Lake, and sitting on the ice eating hot pizza; and anticipation for the steelhead that will be running soon and the turkeys who will be answering our new Cottage Craft Works calls.

Every one of Michigan’s seasons brings with it a chance for a great outdoor experience.  And I look forward to every one of them.

After riding in the warm truck for a few hours, it’s hard to muster the courage to leave the sanctity of the vehicle, purposely open the door, and invite the bitter cold in……especially at 5 in the morning.  But we do it.  Many layers are worn underneath our breathable waders, and you better make sure you have some damn good socks on because 30 degree water tends to take its toll on feet; before you know it, they’re more like solid stumps then they are appendages used for walking.

With gear packed, backpack cinched up tight, and fly rod in hand we make our way down the snow-covered path to the place where the silverheads roam: the Pere Marquette river – which has scenery made for a National Geographic nature special, and is one of the main reasons for going head-to-head with the frigid temps.

After a few minutes of listening to the crunch of snow under your wading boots, and the feel of the arctic blast against your face, you finally arrive at the river.  Here you are rewarded with the sound of tranquility:  the constant lapping of water against rock….against wood….against gravel; the sound of water traversing its way to the big lake, providing a needed method of transportation and seclusion for the spawning that is about to begin; providing a hiding place for steelhead.

As the minutes pass by, the dark mysterious form of the river slowly becomes visible and reveals its true beauty.  Fly rods are in-hand, casts begin to be made, and anticipation begins to mount.  Every cast could be the one, and each of us strives to make this cast the cast.  Any frustration that settles in immediately begins to fade as the rising sun begins to reveal the dark forms making their way upstream into the shallow abyss located in front of you.  The day is truly starting to take shape, and any thoughts of cold……or sleep…..or lack thereof, are gone; the only thoughts pertain to the fish, the cast, the moment, and what needs to be done to capture it and keep it forever.

Finally, after clearing eyelets of ice for the 40th time, and after about 100 casts, it happens: one of the silverheads take your offering and explode to the surface to rid themselves of it.  Breaking the surface of the water, the burst is spectacular, and the fight is instantly intense.  Fishing line begins to rip downstream, frozen fingers fumble to adjust your drag, and the fight is definitely intense.

With the fight out of the fish, the net touches the winter stream, and one of the purposes for being there is in the net.  Pictures are taken, high fives and congratulations are given, and cold is the last thing on the anglers mind.  The hooks are removed, and today’s quarry is placed back in its rightful home – back in the peaceful stream, in the middle of the wild forest, in the middle of a perfectly wild place……in the middle of a small piece of heaven.

Recently, though, and to the cheers of many anglers and guides who felt the barrier was only impeding the natural upstream movement of the steelhead, and not keeping the lamprey out, the US Fish and Wildlife Service has decided to treat the river with a lampricide, and leave the electric barrier dormant.

Rock on!

Personally, I have definitely seen a difference in the numbers of fish moving through the system, and I cannot wait to see how this affects those numbers this year.  Jeff and I firmly believe that this move will make this year’s steelhead run one of the best we’ve seen in a long time.

And we can’t wait to hit the river, and see if our feelings are true.

I’m glad that the USFWS listened to all the concerned anglers and guides, and made a move in what we hope is the right direction.

Fish on and tight lines!

Maybe I should back up a bit first.

Our steelheading trips always start off early, but this one started off way earlier than normal.  After watching the Michigan State Spartans lose the National Title game to those pesky Tarheels, we knew that – if we managed to sleep – we’d only be getting about 2 hours in before we need to leave.  What to do, what to do.

All of us then decided, that leaving right then, and sleeping in the truck once we got there was probably the better choice.  We also decided that we needed a few last minute things, and so it was off to Walmart we went.  Once that task was completed, the truck was loaded up, and we were off on our steelheading adventure………..at 2 in the morning.

In retrospect maybe we should have slept for a couple of hours, because as it usually goes on these trips, none of us slept at all.  It sure makes for a long day on the river when you are sleep deprived.  At the start I was fine, but it’s always the trip home that kills ya.  Thankfully I had a couple of people who could stay awake so that they could drive me home.  That worked out nicely.

We arrived on the river at around 4:30am – a full two hours before we would even see daylight.  Usually getting here this early is a good thing, and is required in order to find a spot; but on this particular day our promptness wasn’t really needed.  Why, you ask?  Because there were no fish.

Alright, so there was a few fish in the system, and Jeff did manage to land one.  Matt actually landed one as well, but once we realized that he was inadvertently hooked in the belly, that catch got taken off the scoreboard.  Me, on the other hand, well I think the title should speak to how many fish I landed.

It was a rough day, and although we did manage to find a few fish, the fish numbers just weren’t quite where we wanted them to be.  It was a tough go, and required many a cast just to have a random chance of hooking into a fish.  Plus, the 30 degree weather didn’t help the fishing out either;  it brought the water temp way down, and caused the fish to go into a hibernation of sorts………especially around my flies.

The day on the river was great, though.  We ate lunch on the bank, laughed a bunch, and all around had a good time.  And while I was frustrated with the lack of fish, and a little crabby on the way home because of it, the day was definitely not a waste; if you’ve never fished while its snowing, you just haven’t lived yet.

This will probably be our sole steelheading trip this year; and while it didn’t go exactly as planned it still created memories:  my reel bouncing downstream (for another post), Jeff’s mask pulled down over his face while sleeping, and Matt’s “fat guy in little coat” routine.

Another steelheading season come and gone, but turkey season is right around the corner.

Note: We did take a picture of Jeff’s fish, but unfortunately I don’t have it yet.  Maybe after reading this he’ll feel like sharing it.