Hi there. How’ve you been? I know… it HAS been a very long time since my last update. I apologize. Where have I been? Well, I can tell you where I have not been. I have not been fishing much lately… hence the lack of posts. Oh, I could have written about refinishing my kitchen table, painting my living-room, or the difficulty of purchasing living-room furniture when one spouse is 5’1” and the other is 6’1”. There would have been accompanying pictures as well. But truth be told, I wouldn’t have read about that, so why would you? The good news is that I finally did some fishing last week. Hopefully it hasn’t been so long between posts that I no longer have readers!
Last year I was unfortunate in that I did not have the opportunity to target Salmon in the fall. Trout fishing was too darn good! This year I was going to use my eight weight fly rod come hell or high water. Earlier in the week, I made plans to drive to the Pier Marquette River in Baldwin with Donny P. It has been at least two months since Don found his way to a stream. Unless, (this thought just now occurring to me) he found himself another fishing partner and failed to inform me!
The day was unseasonable warm with bright blue skies and an abundance of sunshine… abysmal salmon fishing weather! Beggars cannot be choosers however, and we were going to fish regardless of the conditions. We arrived at the “flies only” section and were surprised to find only a few cars in the parking area. Being that it was suppose to be the height of the salmon run, we did not take this as a good sign! We quickly suited up and hiked the trail to the river. The trail, significantly higher than the stream, afforded us an excellent vantage point and we were quickly able to deduce that the long drive was indeed worth it. There were salmon holding in every deep dark hole as far as my eyes could see.
Being that there is a debate whether salmon will continue to eat once they leave the Great Lakes to spawn, I tied on a large weighted streamer. If I couldn’t get them to eat, I was going to try to piss them off. Now, for those of you who do not fish, it is important to note that fish, all fish, lack the ability to feel anger, or even pain. Therefore, in truth, I was really hopping my fly would be perceived as a threat and a salmon would strike my fly accordingly… but pissing them off sounds better.
Fighting a salmon is like having an elephant on the end of your line. It pulls you where it pleases and there is not much you can do about it! A salmon will make a run or two, but not at blinding speeds and generally seems content to “bulldog” you. Hopefully you can keep it on long enough to tire it out and eventually land the beast. Over the course of the day, both Don and I landed several salmon.
The highlight of the day for me happened on my third cast. I placed my cast at the tail of a female salmon that was busy laying her eggs. Careful not to snag her, I let the streamer disappear into a dark hole that was directly behind her. The tip of my float line abruptly stopped and I set the hook. Before I could grasp what was happening my line shot down stream at a break-neck speed. The drag of my reel screamed and I made the unfortunate mistake of letting my left hand get to close to the reel. I was rewarded with the handle of the reel cracking one of my fingers as it spun unbelievably fast. This was not the behavior of a salmon. This was something else. The fish cartwheeled on top of the water and then launched itself out of the water like a rocket taking off at Cape Canaveral. Finally I was able to pick my chin up off of my chest. “Net!” I screamed to Don. A moment later I was holding my first ever steelhead. Not the biggest steelhead by any means, but she shined like a new dime. Being my first, she has secured herself a place in my memory, etched into my mind until I am no more. Now I need to figure out how to catch more!
This post first appeared on The Average Joe Fisherman - Northern Michigan Edition, please read the originial post: here
