USA Troutfishing Michigan

In actual fact, I did not catch a trout in Michigan. That may sound like I did not do well in that beautiful State. Well, read on ..........
We found a nice campground that backed onto the Manistee River. I had found out that this river had a good run of steelhead trout; not as large as California steelheads as these trout have not run to sea, only to Lake Michigan. This means they do not grow as large as the Western sea-run steelhead. The tackle shop guy said they averaged around 5 lb and a 10 lber was a big fish. He told me the hot fly was an 'Egg Sucking Leech'. This did not look much different to a Red Setter so I was quite happy to go along with his recommendation and buy a few.
We arived at the campsite too late to sneak in a fish. It was early October and pretty cold. We were getting worried just how cold it would be in Canada where we were due in a few days time. All the locals had said we should be in Canada on Oct 12 - that was when the 'colours' were at their best. By that they meant that the trees would be showing their brightest colours and to see that was something I had always wanted to do.










The next morning dawned fine but cold. While Sue was cleaning out the van, I said I would have a flick in the river. That was pretty easy to do as the campground was right alongside the river. There was only a one metre high bank so it was easy to walk along the bank and fish the river.
It was a big river, about the same size as, say the Mataura, but a lot deeper and faster flowing. So fast flowing in fact that when I chucked in my rig, the river turned it upside down very rapidly. No trout would take that dragging drift.
I had attached the Egg Sucking Leech fly to the bend of a heavily weighted Copper John nymph.

I felt I was getting down sufficiently but the water was too fast to fish Tongariro style. So I chucked the whole rig upstream and then walked the flies downstream. The bank was clear of obstructions so it was easy to wander along the grassy verge 'walking the dog' downstream.




The technique soon proved to be a good choice when the indicator stopped abruptly. I got the rod only halfway up when its upward movement was halted by something very solid. I was not even given the chance to think 'snag' as the large object moved rapidly upstream.
I yelled out to Sue and followed the fish upstream. But not for long. The fish raced up to a bunch of willows that prevented me following it upstream. All I could do was to lean on the fish and try and stop its upstream motion. Fat chance. It was like trying to turn a locomotive. The fish very quickly snapped off the 8 lb leader just as Sue emerged from the van.
I told her that I must have hooked a salmon as no trout could show that sort of power. That was not quite true as I had hooked a couple of trout that would have gone over 20 lb and they had made mincemeat of me too. I knew that the Manistee was a salmon river but the takcle shop guy had said it was too early for the salmon to be running.
I reeled in 50 yds of line and backing, somewhat disconsolately and wandered back down the bank. Sue retreated to continue her cleaning. I cast the rig upstream again and walked the flies downstream. The indicator had only travelled 20 feet when it stopped again. Up went the rod and again it only got to ten o'clock before it was stopped by something substantial. This fish was much better behaved and just stooged around in mid current. I figured it might be easier to land and felt sufficiently confident to yell out to Sue and summonsed the camera.















By then the salmon had taken me down to as far as I could go. The problem was there was a marina entrance that stopped me following the salmon downstream. If you look closely a the photo above, you will see a couple of guys in a boat waiting to get out of the marina. They were very respectful and kept well away from the action.
So Moby and me settled down to a battle royal. I would get it within 20 yds of the jetty and then off it would race downstream - much to the annoyance of a guy on the far bank. He had a video camera and was determined to capture the moment of me landing the fish. He had a while to wait.
After half an hour, I took pity on the guys in the boat and signalled for them to come over to my side and sneak under my flyline. They successfully did so and I thanked them for their consideration. In return they wished me well in my fight.
Well, this saga continued for another hour with no one making much progress. Every time I got the salmon close, off it would go downstream. Finally, after 2 hours, I could sense it was tiring. I leant on it as much as I could considering I had an 8 weight fly rod and 8 lb trace. I managed to get it out of the faster water into the shallower water at the entrance of the marina.
I hollered for Sue to see if she could borrow a net as the jetty was about six feet above the water and there was absolutely nowhere to land the fish. Sue did better than that - she bought back an older guy with a big, long-handled net. I asked him if he was confident about netting the salmon.
'I reckon so,' he said. 'I was the skipper of a fishing charter boat on the lake for 40 years.'
I shut up and let him instruct me where he wanted me to bring the fish. A few minutes later, he effortlessly scooped the fish into the net. A large, bright, gleaming salmon lay exhausted on the jetty. I shook hands with my helper and he disengaged the Egg Sucking Leech from where it was firmly embedded in the salmon's jaw.
He then marched down the jetty before I could even raise the issue of releasing the fish. Although I knew in my heart that after a 21/4 hour fight, there was no way that fish would survive the huge lactic acid build up.
My new mate administered the coup de grace and the giant fish lay motionless on the grass.
'So what is it?' I asked.
'It's a silver of course', he replied.
'A Silver Salmon?' I queried.
'A silver King salmon', he replied.
'How big do you reckon?' I asked.
'Oh, around 25 lb', he said.















Wow! What a catch. On an 8 weight flyrod with an 8 lb leader - not a bad effort. I suddenly remembered the guy with the video camera. I looked across to the far bank but he had gone. I don't know if he managed to hang around to the final moments but if he did I would loved to have a copy of that video.
Oh well, I'll just have to rely on the failing memory banks ..................