Fichigan

Small Stream/Giant Trout

A new report from Jake: Feral and I went to the tube stretch that we like on the Pine and worked up through pretty slowly. The water was high but still in the banks with plenty of color. Lots of clouds kept the day dark and it misted the whole time we were in the water but never got us wet enough to feel like rain. First cast I picked up a 10 inch brown and considered keeping but decided to throw back. Second cast I got one about 12-13” right up to the bank before he spat out the lure and swam away. It was feeling like a good day to fish. We worked up through some nice looking water. Lots of logs and undercut banks that made us wonder why we didn’t have a trout on the line with every cast but the more we fished the less action we saw. Feral had small ones follow his lure out of some deep holes and even had one or two on briefly but managed to discreetly shake them off almost before I noticed.

When we arrived at the real premium deep hole Feral was in the lead and he was casting in all the right places. We knew there had to be a fish under the far bank. This was one of the spots we specifically cleared out some overhanging brush earlier in the year so we could get the lures back into the shadows. After a moment he got quiet and stepped back to me saying he had seen a big swirl like a sizable fish taking a bug off the surface. He crept back up and cast up and down the bank and we both knew there could be a fish on at any second. After several casts and no luck he motioned for me to give it a shot. I made some long casts up stream and then a few into the grassy bank area and it wasn’t long before something big down in the deep dark water decided to come out and play.

My tackle is pretty light for fighting big trout so when a monster goes for my lure it makes my rod look like it might snap in half. This was the case when I felt the hit, saying “there he is” and positioned myself for the fight. I could tell right away it was a nice trout. And it was a good fight. The fish stayed deep and tried again and again to get back down under the bank but I kept the pressure on to bring him out. He went downstream and back up and then back down. I kept plenty of tension on the line but had to give when he took off for fear of breaking my line. After what seemed like several minutes he began to tire and I handed my rod off to Feral and swooped down with the net to land the beast. A 20 incher. This was my first time carrying a net and I was glad I had it. It’s going to be part of permanent kit now.

We didn’t see much for the rest of the trip. It was a nice day though and it felt like fall as we walked back to the truck. Tonight we will make trout tacos.

A Fishless Day

It rained on Sunday but there was no way of telling if my favorite streams 100 miles north saw any of it. Monday I woke at four in the morning and rather than try to go back to sleep I decided to drive up there and take a chance fishing. We’ve had a bit of a drought so I hoped the streams were up a little and carrying a little stain.. but no such luck. I fished the Pine River (Lake County) for about an hour and didn’t see a fish. The Pine was as low as I have ever seen it. I drove south to the Little South (branch of the Pere Marquette) and took a look. It too was very low, maybe the lowest water level I’ve seen on that stream. So a lot of driving, no fish, but did discover my waders leak. Not the best news to cap off a fishless day:)

Preston Arendson in Copemish

About two months ago I proposed a get-together / possible jam session with former members of the Preston Arendson band. Scott Zylstra, the lead guitarist, hosted it it up at his home in Copemish. He has a beautiful old farmhouse with ancient wood floors and vintage furnishings. I felt like I was stepping back in time which is not far from the truth. Jack Grant, the bass player, and Bill Voss, our sound technician, arrived ahead of me. When I walked into the living room four chairs were set up in a circle and Jack was already set up with his bass and amp. I recognized the bass, a Fender Precision he bought back when we first started playing out. Vintage! Bill brought a new model Taylor guitar from his vast collection of very high end acoustics and electrics. Scott just retrieved his Martin D-18 from a guitar shop. They had it for over a year for a re-fret job so I think he was ready to test it out. It sounded incredible. I brought my OOO-16 cutaway Martin acoustic.

We talked for a bit about old bands from the 70’s, concerts we saw back then, mostly music topics. I brought my vintage pellet pistol knowing Bill is interested in old firearms. Turns out Jack has some knowledge on the subject too. Frankly I was a little nervous, under-practiced, and didn’t know how this would all go down.

Highlights for me: Scott goofing on his guitar between songs playing killer riffs and short progressions. I could have listened to Scott do that for fifteen minutes and called it a great day. I kept thinking I really need a recording of his jams. Maybe I could write some lyrics and melodies around them if he was up for a project. Then listening to Jack on the bass. A master. When I say master I mean subtle and solid progressions that don’t call attention to his playing. Supporting the song. And then he slides in with harmonies that are so dead on, and beautiful, you can’t hardly separate them from the melodies. Bill sounded great singing old Ozark Mountain Daredevils tunes and spurring memories of songs I completely forgot! We started playing around 11:00 in the morning and suddenly Jack said he had to get going. Scott mentioned it was 5:30. I swear, time has not moved that fast for me in the last 20 years. I wished I’d have been more prepared and forthright about jumping in with songs. Truthfully, I was just glad to be there and listen. I really needed that. It was something.

Found this photo from the late 70s… Feral with a pipe on the left, Jack on bass, me with my D-35, Scott tuning a 12 string, Abe on the right. Not sure who took the photo but wish I had more photos from back then.