Resident fishing expert Dan Donarski gives some advice about how to get your fall (and walleye season) off to a great start.

Fall means the summer doldrums are over on the walleye front. As the water cools the fish once again become very active.

Did you hear, or feel, that big breath of wind on September 7? Most folks with school-aged kids will tell you that wind came from the mothers and fathers of these children as a long-needed sigh of relief that comes with Independence Day, also known as the first day of school!

I was part of that wind, and while some of it certainly had to do with my son Eric heading off for middle school, and my daughter Karen heading off for college, it also came from something else– it came from the start of the fall walleye fishing bonanza. Yup, after more than a month of the walleyes seemingly in lockjaw under a scorching summer sun, the temps have started to cool. And, with that cooler weather the walleyes are once again becoming very active.

Your luck with walleyes will improve as we move into fall.

From Saginaw Bay to the Bays de Noc and lakes like Big Manistique to Muskegon, and big rivers from the St. Joe to the St. Marys, walleyes are starting to put on the feed bag and actively feed. Right now the fish are still pretty much on a crawler bite but as water temperatures start to decline this will change over to a minnow bite.

There’s another switch to look for starting soon, too. As of right now, the best action is coming from those anglers fishing at night, or at least in the low light hours of dawn and dusk. While low light will continue to be productive in the coming weeks, the fish will also start to feed much more during the daylight hours (let’s see…the kids are in school…sounds like a great day to go fishing! And that way you can be home to help with the homework after school.).

Walleye action will heat up as temperatures cool down.

If your walleye water is a river, consider fishing around wing dams, any scour holes on deep bends, or just out of the strongest current. Walleyes will be gathering up here in anticipation of an easy meal. Why is it easy here? Because these current breaks are where the baitfish will gather, too.

On lakes and reservoirs look for a definite contour break or a place where the bottom changes consistency. Anywhere the bottom drops off quickly into 20 or more feet of water is a good contour break. And a change from sand or mud to gravel, or even better, big rocks, will be an area where the walleyes will congregate. Basically if you look for structure first you will more than likely find the fish (structure equals the presence of prey; presence of prey equals the presence of predators).

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Sometimes, when any fish will do, you find yourself attached to a true monster. That’s what happened when Dan Donarski and his son, Eric, were fishing with Capt Harold Bailey aboard the Blue Heron. Check out some of Dan’s other blog posts, and our site, to learn more about fishing in Pure Michigan.

I like a jerk on both ends of my rod. Doesn’t matter the species, I just want to catch fish. When fishing with the younger generation, this is even more important. They have to catch fish in order to stay enthused and retreat back to that electronic world of Game Boy and X Box.

Just over a week ago I called a buddy of mine, Harold bailey of Blue Heron Fishing Charters and asked him what was going on. Bailey told me the salmon had started but the perch and walleye were going pretty good. With that info in hand I asked him if he was open Sunday, he was, and told him he now had a charter.

“Super, be at my house on Sugar Island. Maybe we’ll even catch a sturgeon.”

I let that last comment just lie for awhile but then began to dream. Over the past number of years, Lake Superior State University in Sault Ste. Marie has been doing population studies on lake sturgeon in the St. Mary’s River, and in particular, Lake George. As Bailey fishes the river and the widening known as Lake George, it’s a good bet he’s caught one or more of these while targeting walleyes. Hmmmm.

Fast forward to Sunday morning and Eric and I helping to get gear aboard his boat. Bailey suggested we target the perch first, then maybe sturgeon, before going after some walleyes.

“C’mon, Harold, targeting sturgeon?”

“Dan, we’ve been catching a lot, and a lot of folks don’t know about this. It’s a lot of fun.” I told bailey that was fine, but my goal was to get Eric into a lot of fish, I didn’t care what kind.

The perch fishing was slow but steady. The bites just weren’t hard ones. The fish were tentative at best and after two hours we had 13 nice ones in the boat. Eric was getting a bit bored.

That’s when bailey said, “Let’s go catch a sturgeon.”

After picking up lines Harold got the motor revved and we made our way into Lake George. “Harold, let’s give this 30-45 minutes, I don’t want Eric to get bored.”

“He won’t,” was Bailey’s reply. “A few of us walleye addicts discovered this fishery last year while jigging. We thought it was a fluke. But, when we came back this year the sturgeons were here again. This is a real fishery, and a great one.”

Sturgeon fishing is open in very few waters in the state. In the Great Lakes and connecting waters there is an open season, but, in most cases, like the St. Mary’s, it is catch and release only.

These are ancient fish, bottom feeders. It takes the females 20 years or longer to reach spawning age, and even then they spawn about once every four years.

Years ago their populations were abused. Often times they were simply thrown up on the banks to rot during the spring spawn. Other times they were stacked like firewood and used as fuel to burn in the winter due to a heavy oil content. And, yes, their eggs were, and are, considered a delicacy.

Once in around 22 feet of water bailey had me bait and set lines. The method is to use an ounce or ounce and a half egg sinker three feet above a size four hook. On the hook you god nightcrawlers, two or three of them, so you have a lot of “legs” in the water squirming.

Now, simply get the rig to the bottom, let the current bounce it back two or three times, engage the reel, and set the rod in the holder. I set the first one and was in the process of setting the second when bailey erupted, “Dan, there’s a bite!”

I looked at the first rod and saw the rod tip twitching. It wasn’t hammered over or even in that much of a bend, just a steady bobbing of the tip. I pulled the rod out of the holder, felt the line go tight, and struck back hard– and was immediately tied to the end of a very big fish.

Handing Eric the rod I kept one hand on the rod until he could get the feel of the large fish while Harold cleared the deck of rods and coolers. We needed that room, too, as the sturgeon had Eric scrambling from one side to the other for the next 15 minutes. When Eric saw the fish, and saw me with the net, he said, “Dad, we need a bigger net!”

It took a few tries but we did eventually get that fish into the net, all 47 inches of him. Harold and I were all smiles. Eric, well, he just had a stupefied look on his face at first, and then broke into a wide grin.

Over the next 45 minutes six more sturgeon came to call. Sore arms followed. As did the grins.

Eric and I had a hoot with Bailey, and will be going out again in a week or so. If you are interested in this fishery, or any on the St. Mary’s, Capt. Harold Bailey can be reached at 906-635-5134.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

With new months come new adventures in Michigan.  Dan Donarski provides some helpful tips and tricks for this year’s salmon fishing season.

If ever there were a sure bet when it comes to fishing this is it: When the calendar says August, then the kings are sure to be hot. Kings as in king salmon, the mighty chinook, the bull dog with fins.

Why August you ask?

It all has to do with biology. The short story is that king salmon live for a short four years and then they return to the streams where they lived their first few months. They return to spawn, and then die. Beginning in August the kings start to move towards these natal streams in preparation for their turn in the spawn and die cycle. The move to towards these streams is called staging, and by mid-August you can bet that there are massive schools of 4-year old kings waiting in the vicinity of the streams before they move into the outflowing currents. Four years is a short life spawn to be sure, but these fish know how to use their limited time.

An Impressive King Salmon

In that short length of time the fish go from egg to supreme predator of the Great Lakes. Fish topping 20 pounds are not uncommon and fish tipping the scales in the 30-pound plus range aren’t unheard of.

August is the major transition time for kings. They are getting ready for the spawn. In most places along the coasts of Michigan, Huron and Superior that means that the adult kings will be moving into the near-shore shallow water in the evenings and then move back out to deeper water, say 120 to 140 feet, when the sun comes back up. The kings don’t like making that long swim any more than the anglers like running their boats that far so if you can find these two styles of water in close proximity to one another then you’ve got a leg up on the salmon.

Salmon fishing isn’t the sport of buggy whip rods and gossamer lines. These are big brutes that deserve respect.

Fly anglers matching wits with the fish on rivers like the Pere Marquette and Muskegon, Manistee in the L.P., and the Carp, St. Marys, and Manistique in the U.P. will want to come equipped with an 8-weight rod and a matching fly reel that has a real, as in disk, drag system. The reel should be spooled with at least 150 yards of backing. For leaders a simple leader of 10-pound mono run to the fly should do the trick nicely.

A number of flies work well on these kings. Among the best are blue and black streamers, egg patterns, hex nymphs and stone fly nymphs.

If casting hardware in rivers is your game then make sure your rod is in the medium to medium heavy action range. Again here, make sure you have a dependable drag on your reel with a full spool of 14 to 17 pound mono. Weighted in-line spinners, like those by Blue Fox and Mepps, work very well on these aggressive fish. Most salmon addicts stick an additional piece of hot colored tape to the inside of the spinner blade to attract even more attention from these brutes.

Out on the Water

Probably the best way to target these salmon, especially in the early stages of the month, is to hop in your boat and head for any port along the lake shore that has a river coming out of it. If you are just getting started in this game you’ll save a lot of frustration by begging your way onto another salmon angler’s boat, or failing that, to book a half-day charter trip with a knowledgeable charter captain.

These fellows not only have all the tackle you’ll need to tie into one of these line-screaming, hard-charging and tail-walking fish, they are also on the water every day. This gives them the edge when it comes to fishing- they know the water, they know the fish, and they know their livelihood depends on producing for their clients. Meaning, of course, that they will do everything in their power to make sure you get to know the thrill of fighting one or more of these silver bullets before your trip is done.

And, they also are capable teachers. You will learn from them.

If you know all there is to know, then just make sure in these early weeks of August that you have a complete arsenal with you. Spoons are probably the easiest to work with. Black and raspberry, green and silver and blue and silver are the go-to colors when the fishing is a bit slow. The other colors, things like wonder bread, monkey puke and a host of others are worthwhile in time, too. Have some J-plugs on board in these colors, too.

Dodgers and flies, and/or squids, have taken on a shine over the past few years. These old-style baits still have their place in your tackle box and deserve to be pulled. In fact, of late these baits have outfished the others by a good margin.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Dan Donarski is back – this time with a creative twist.  Check out this fly-fishing story – do you know someone who could play the starring role?

(Fly fishing after dark on rivers like the Indian and Escanaba in the UP, or the Au Sable, Manistee, or PM in the Lower, are simply pure magic. Here’s a scene that could feature you.)

Like Christmas for a young child wishing the time was now, not later. That’s what the day has been like. Instead of Christmas the wish was for nightfall, and the hopeful subsequent trout-rise.

A breeze of any kind barely rustled the leaves in the trees during the afternoon. The temperature rose so quickly into the low 90s, that a perceptible fellow may have felt the rush of air escaping through backyard thermometers as the mercury rushed higher. Even those unable to discern this could certainly feel the breezes from tempers rising even higher than the mercury.

“Perfect”, he thought sitting on an ancient fallen hemlock alongside the Indian River. Mosquitoes tormented him as they needled him as relentlessly as the sun’s heat had hours before. “Just perfect”. Even now, at just a hair past 9:30, with the clouds kissed in the hues of cotton candy, the temperature was still in the 80s. Save for the mosquito wings, that slight afternoon breeze was a distant memory.

Sweat ran down the middle of his back, across his brow, stinging his eyes as it trickled from his graying hair beneath the well-stained cap. His legs wrapped in old canvas duck waders were as wet from the sweat as if he had been wading all day in pants.

When he got to the hemlock an hour or so earlier, the deer flies and horseflies, the stable flies and black flies, seemingly all that bites and flies descended down upon him. Nothing on the river showed promise. Not even the ever present skipper brook trout, the style that come so small that once he set the hook they come skipping back at him, were out.

But that was an hour ago. The skippers were out now. Tell-tale rings from their rises expanded in ever increasing circles on the river’s still surface. Most were upstream, just behind the remnants of an old white pine that never made it to the mills in Manistique.

Over the past 20 years he had sat here, watching the pine. Each year there was less and less of it. Succumbing to the tugs of current, the crash of break-up ice, and the slow work of various mosses and lichens it was not quite what it once was. Not all that different than him. Still holding strong, but the holding was getting more and more precious.

As the cotton candy clouds turned from vivid orange to deep red he opened his fly box, choosing a scruffy looking pattern that used to be called a mouse. Tying the fly on the line in a loop knot of 10-pound test– thank God for magnifying glasses– he tested the knot with a quick heavy tug. Satisfied that the knot was right he continued to watch, and wait.

Nighthawks and whip-poor-wills slashed against the purple night sky. Above them a crescent moon slid silently further to the west like a silent canoe.

Finally he made a concession to the mosquitoes and started to apply bug dope. He was careful of the fly and the line. Using the backs of his hands as the spreaders he kept his fingers and palms repellent free. A few years ago some fly dope had come in contact with his line and the result was melted plastic and another $45 for a new line. Not to mention a ruined fishing trip upon its untimely discovery.

Just after 10 he thought he heard something in the river just upstream from his seat on the hemlock. Straining his eyes he could make out a doe and two fawns crossing the river. The doe was sure footed along the bottom while the fawns flailed away in the deeper sections, forced to swim.

The deer startled a barred owl when they came out of the river. The owl flew down the river directly in front of him, landing in a popple, or aspen tree on the other side.  Displaying its displeasure of having to move the owl’s call of “Who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-you-too?” echoed through the valley. It was joined by at least three others answering that questioning call.

His ears caught the familiar sound of a big trout feeding, that unmistakable sound of a big brown coming up for a bug, or a mouse, or something substantial in that huge discourteous slurp. He had once read that the sound was not unlike a pig falling off a diving board but to him it reminded him of an old girlfriend’s father and how he slurped soup.

Not long after came another slurp from the same location, pinpointing the rise. And then another from a bit upstream of the first two. Then another from just downstream. What was a barren river just two short hours ago was no alive with feeding trout. Under the cover of darkness, and urged on by the hatch of giant mayflies, the trout had come out of their hiding places and were now feeding. He thought that his old girlfriend’s father had all his brothers with him tonight.

He moved into the water slowly, gently making his way towards the nearest soup slurper. The water felt cool against the canvass and pulled at his legs.  Playing out line by feel he measured by sound the distance and let the tattered mouse fall near the last rise.  He used mouse flies almost exclusively at night, leaving the dainty mayfly imitations to the more cultured fly anglers.

In more of a heavy swoosh than a slurp the mouse disappeared. Raising his rod quickly he could feel the heavy pulse of a big trout as it dug for the cover of an undercut bank. His reel whined, his rod arced over, his face became taught. The big brown ran for the tangle of a bak-side sweeper. Putting more pressure on the rod, and from the rod to the fish, he turned it. Now the fish bull-dogged, straining for deeper water, straining to find the current. Soon, the fish tired, and slid into weathered ash and cotton mesh net. Twenty-two inches of Indian River brown trout.

The old man cradled the fish in his hands, letting the water run through its gills, gaining its strength back. He could feel the trout grow strong, and with a shake of its head and a thrust of its tail it disappeared into the inky water.

Five minutes later he heard another big fish. Again he measured the distance with his ear and sent the mouse pattern upstream. Another slurp, another hook set. The fish was now joined to the old man. Just as quickly as it had become fastened tight to the old man, the fish became unbuttoned. And, just as quickly as the bugs and the trout became active, they just as quickly quit.

The old man went back to the hemlock and sat down. He listened as the world went to sleep. Walking back to his truck his smile was wide.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Dan Donarski is back with more great Pure Michigan fishing tips for you!

Smallmouth bass have really captivated me of late. They are very dependable under almost all weather conditions and they are found throughout the U.P. here’s a quick look at three of my favorite places to fish them when I get the hankering to drive well west into the far reaches of the U.P.

Lake Medora

You can drive farther north than Lake Medora, but only about 5 miles to Copper Harbor, the northern-most town in the Keweenaw Peninsula. Up here July and August can require warm jackets when the wind blows in off the big lake. Tough it out. Get here anyway.

Medora isn’t a big lake, coming in just shy of 700 acres, but it has that special “heart” normally found only in wilderness areas. It also has just about any kind of cover you like to fish smallies in.

Jim Ekdahl likens it to smallmouth heaven. “There are an awful lot of smallmouth bass in the lake. Most are going to go about two pounds or so but fish above five aren’t out of the question. You do need to work various structures to find the fish.”

From the boat launch, located directly off US-41 on the lake’s southeastern shore, you’ll spot one of three closely associated islands to the north. These islands generally hold a fair number of fish. The bottom is rocky here, as it is along much of the eastern and north shore.

Going to the extreme northern bay you’ll find a reef coming up from the 20-foot depths and topping out around six. Rocks dominate here, too, with a smattering of weed beds along the edges.

In these rocky areas diving cranks work wonders. You’ll want to get that crank to bounce off those rocks for the best action, much like a wounded baitfish or a crayfish may move.

The lake’s eastern shore is much softer and has more weeds. The contours here are gentle.  Working the 10-foot contour with jigs and leeches in a slow methodical way will produce. Stickbaits work as well with gold/black being the top color.

Portage and Torch Lakes

Portage and Torch lakes are the anchors of the Keweenaw Waterway. Together they total over 13,000 acres of fishable water. That’s what makes this place so hard to figure out for first-time anglers. It doesn’t have to be.

The key, according to guide Doug Wyble, is to break each section down into defined areas. “Most people just see this huge expanse of water and get overwhelmed. What they should do is take each section by itself and really break it down.”

For instance, on Torch Lake, the northern lake of the system, you’ll find a lot of small bays and pockets along the north-western shore. The bottom slopes quickly in these and weed beds are few. Wyble fishes those that have the leftover mining equipment, some as big as a small factory poking up through the surface. These old dredges and other paraphernalia offer superb cover for smallmouths, sort of like smallie condos.

On bays without the mining leftovers he targets the 12-foot contours with jerk baits. Gold or bronze are the best finishes. These areas are fished a bit quicker than those with the mining junk. The fish aren’t as plentiful here but they are generally much bigger, with fish in the 6-pound range a real possibility.

On Portage, the southern lake in the system, much of the smallmouth fishing will be found along the eastern shore where the lake starts to narrow down to the Torch Lake Channel. The contours here are sharp with depths going from zero to 24 feet in sharp drops.

Access to Torch is best at Lake Linden Village Park, just east of Hancock on M-26. For Portage the best access is in Chassel, right off US-41.

Lake Gogebic

In a popular book among U.P. anglers Lake Gogebic’s smallmouth fishery is listed as “poor to fair.” Nothing could be further from the truth on Gogebic.

Gogebic, located in both Ontonagon and Gogebic counties is the U.P.’s largest lake, coming in at around 20 square miles. The lake is generally a long north-south tube with a small dog leg to the east at its northernmost point. Most folks would call it generally featureless with a gently sloping bottom and expansive deep water flats. All this is true, and then again…

Yeds, whose real name is Jerry Anderson but definitely prefers Yeds, showed me a smallmouth fishery that was on fire a few summers ago. The fishery was entirely based on structure.

“There is structure here. Some of it is subtle but when that’s all there is that’s where the smallmouth will be,” he told me. “Ya just have to work it with what the fish want.” We had just launched from the access site on the lake’s south eastern shore off of CR-525. Additional access sites will be found in Bergland, along the north shore on East Shore Road, and the state park, along the lake’s southwestern shore off of M-64.

No more than fifty feet off shore we were in six to eight feet of water. A few small boulders could be seen on the bottom. Beyond the boulders we lost sight of the bottom which dropped into 15 or so feet. “This drop goes on a long way,” Yeds told me, “rig up.”

Floating jig heads tipped with flathead minnows was his preferred style. Using nothing for weight Yeds told me to pitch the jig into the deeper water and just let it sit. With a gentle wind blowing us north and east towards the shore the jig slowly settled towards the bottom and was then carried with the wind to the bouldered edge.

The western shore is different when it comes to style.

Fish cribs rule the success factor here. Dozens of them have been placed over the years in about 12 feet of water up and down the western shore. A graph is almost a necessity to finding them. If you find a crib you can bet there will be a number of smallmouths in and around it. Catching these bass takes a bit of finesse.

Slip bobber rigs with either leeches or minnows fished quietly in and alongside the cribs is one productive method. The other involves rigging a soft plastic worm wacky style and, without weight, tossing it on top or near the edge of the crib. You want the worm to slowly sink on a slack line. Watch that line for any stop, or a slight move to the side. That shift from falling is a bass picking it up. Hit it hard when that happens or risk the fish spitting it out.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Thanks to Dan Donarski for sharing his tips on where and how to catch herring in Michigan!

This isn’t going to be a tale of ya-shoulda-been-there. Because, as this is written, the “been there” part of the story hasn’t revealed itself yet. It will, though, any day now.

Rather this is more in the vein of “ya-better-get-there,” because once it starts to happen it is simply too much fun.

We’re talking herring here. That slim, silvery fish that is pickled, smoked, creamed, fried and broiled. All to raves.

We’re talking that fish that hovers around a pound, but three pounds isn’t out of the question.

We’re talking the fish that confounds us with sheer numbers when they won’t bite, and delights us when they do. For, when they do bite, the fight they give is more than a little scrappy.

Herring invade the waters of the Eastern U.P. from late June through July. This invasion of sorts generally begins off of the Les Cheneaux (some are reportedly being caught here already) and slowly moves east to Drummond and then up the St. Marys past Lime island and all the way into Lake George and even the Harvey Marina area of Sault Ste. Marie. They move with purpose, too.

The purpose for this movement is to feed. Feed specifically on the mayfly hatches, the bigger the flies and the more flies that hatch the better for the fish. Over the past week, smaller mayflies have been hatching in the shallows. What the herring are looking for are those that hatch in say 15 feet of water, maybe more. This should start to happen within days based on current water temperatures.

Now, it should be noted that herring also take small minnows. Les Cheneaux area anglers know this and use ultra light Swedish pimples tipped with a wax worm to good success just before the flies start to hatch. Seems the herring have the ability to predict when the hatches will happen and start to come in a few days before the flies get active. This is when the super small jigging spoon really does its magic.

Once the flies have started though, the herring seem to almost exclusively feed on them. Wouldn’t you? I mean, if you were a fish, wouldn’t it be a bit easier to grab a mouthful of slow moving flies than chasing down some minnow?

The technique for catching these herring when they are feasting on the flies isn’t all that tough. That doesn’t mean that you just have at it. There are some real needs.

Needs like having an ultra limber rod: the longer the better. In fact, a 9-foot fly rod in the six weight category is just about perfect. You’ll also want either a small fly reel loaded with no more than 6-pound test, and four is much better, or a small spinning reel. These fish may be small but they do run fast. A good drag is vital.

Why all this for a small fish? Well, herring have a very tender mouth. So tender that they make crappies look tough. Put a lot of beef to them and you will literally come up with lips only. Let the fish have his head and gently work him in.

At the terminal end, tear drops tipped with waxworms are a good bet. Even better are nymphs tied in black, yellow, brown or grey– the colors of the real nymphs– and then tip these with a waxworm. Herring seem to think this is a double meal and really go for it.

Some anglers swear by going out at night during the bug hatch and collecting their own real flies. These they string onto a tear drop or very thin smaller hook. By the baskets of fish these folks bring in, the method certainly works.

Remember that 9-foot rod. The length serves more than just acting as shock absorber. While finely-tuned floats work, the rod itself may be your best bet in detecting the delicate take that herring are known for. That long rod telegraphs the bite better than a shorter, stouter rod. Chances are you will actually see the twitch of a bite before you feel it, another reason for a long, limber rod.

Herring will swim at all depths, from top to bottom. If you have a fish finder you may seen different schools stacked one on top of the other. Your trick is to find which ones are biting best.

For some reason I’ve had the best success trying 11 feet down first. That seems, for me anyway, to be my bread and butter depth. If I can’t find any takers there I move up, one foot at a time until I can actually see my bait. Three feet down doesn’t mean it is too shallow. You can see that far down, and you may just see a school or two move through at this depth.

If nothing is up high, then it,s time to move deeper a foot at a time. The only problem here is that once you get within a couple feet of the bottom that world record herring you think you are fighting transforms itself into a simple old sucker. Suckers like it on the bottom.

Expect a bit of a crowd when the herring are in full swing. It reminds me of the old perch fishing days when rafts of boats anchored over favored perch fishing holes. It is also a lot of fun, too much fun almost.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Dan Donarski is back, and this time, he’s sharing some great advice on how to make the most of bass fishing season, which opens this Saturday!

The last Saturday of May is upon us, and that brings bass fishing season! (Lake St. Clair and the St. Clair and Detroit rivers don’t open for a few weeks yet)

One of my military instructors implored our class to “Go for the bronze.” He felt that unless you were incredibly lucky that the gold was out of reach. If you achieved silver then you’d be green with envy about not getting the gold and be mad at yourself. For this fellow, if you got the bronze you got your medal, everyone behind you did not, and you should be quite happy. In military parlance, you’d be a stud.

When it comes to the bass world, going for the bronze may as well be going for the gold. Smallmouths or bronzebacks, no matter what you call them, are the studs of the Great Lakes bass scene. To be quite frank, smallies make largemouths look like pigs with fins.

For the fly rodder, particularly in the early part of the summer, smallies will give you the time of your life. Going for the bronze doesn’t get any better than right now.

It’s romance time in the world of the smallmouth bass. The fish are cruising the shallows, anywhere from two to eight feet of water, searching out the perfect matrimonial bed to do their duty and ensure that the species continues to flourish.

Fine gravel or gritty sand is what you should be looking for in these shallows. A nice break, where the water drops quickly to deeper water, makes the area even more enticing. Throw in a few good sized rocks or even boulders for added cover and you’ll be in the smallies’ version of the No-Tell Motel.

Here’s what you’re going to need to get in on this late May and June action:

• A nice, fast action 7- or 8-weight rod is perfect. Attach a matching reel that has a smooth disc drag and you’re all set. In most cases with this early summer bite you’ll be just fine using a weight-forward floating line. When you do need to go deeper, you can always attach one of those short lead heads to help get your fly down. Or simply use a small split shot a couple of feet above the fly.
• For a leader you can stay away from the pre-tied variety that go for four dollars or more. Instead grab a couple 100 yard spools of mono, one in the 10-pound class and the other in six.
• Tie up your leader using six feet of the 10-pound attached to the fly line (or the lead head) and then tie in a 4-foot section of the six to use as your tippet. The easiest knot to tie these pieces of mono together with is the double surgeons, which is basically just two overhand knots. Of course, you can always get fancy by tying a blood knot or two uni knots but these take a bit longer to tie.
• Fluorocarbon lines definitely have their place for leaders and especially tippets. If you find yourself in clear water these new semi-invisible lines will go a long way towards improving your hook-up rate. Smallies aren’t particularly line shy, but they are aware of their surroundings and what looks like trouble.
• Flies are an easy matter. Like just about anything in the fly fishing world you need to match the hatch. For smallies you’ll need to have a selection of streamers that imitate the local baitfish and a few that come in hot colors (yellow seems to really excite these fish). Then you should put a few crayfish imitations in the fly box along with a variety of leech patterns. Always leave room for a number of Wooly Buggers. These impressionistic flies, rather than the imitating varieties, are smallmouth candy. Depending on the retrieve, they can give the impression of a baitfish, crayfish, or leech.

Fly rodding smallies in late May and early June is a load of fun but, like all things with flies or fake baits like spinners and plastics, sometimes they just don’t do the job. While I’d rather catch them on a fly or plastic, the mission is to catch fish, not to practice your casting.

So, when the fly, plastic and hardware bite isn’t biting, go to the real thing. Big juicy crawlers and/or squiggling minnows. These are as close to “no-fail” baits as you are going to get.

The set up is simple. For rivers, simply tie in a No. 4 hook on the terminal end and place a splitshot about 18 inches above the hook. Load that hook up a crawler or minnow and send it into the current, preferably a current break or a hole created by a mid stream obstruction. Now, keeping a tight line let the thing tumble with the current. When it gets directly below you reel it back in and cast again.

In lakes it is the very same set up. While you could simply cast this offering out and let it sit on the bottom and wait for the fish to come to you, there is a better way. Start casting and let the bait fall to the bottom. Now, very slowly start reeling the bait back to you keeping the bait next to the bottom. When, not if, you get that tell-tale tap, stop reeling, give the fish some line, and when the fish moves off with your bait, hammer the hook home. If you fish two rods, let one sit and fan cast the other. Unless you like buying new outfits, you’ll want to keep the bail open on the stationary rod.

Where to go? Let’s see, there’s Little Bay de Noc, the Menominee River, Lake Gogebic and the Les Cheneaux Islands, along with Drummond Island in the U.P. In the lower peninsula look at Wilderness State Park, Beaver Island, Grand Traverse Bay and the Lower AuSable River. The Kalamazoo River, along with the other drowned river mouth lakes along the Michigan coast will also be worthwhile.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Thank you to Dan Donarski for this guest blog piece on the opening of walleye and northern pike fishing season up in the Upper Peninsula!

Remember the old adage “Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday”? Well, tomorrow is going to be the today you’ve been hoping for since the 15^th of March.

Tomorrow, the walleye and northern pike season opens in these parts – these parts being the U.P. of course. And with that opening come hoards of expectations. It’s just as it should be.

If indicators are correct, then Eastern U.P. area walleye waters like Waiska Bay, Baie de Wasi, Maxton Bay, and Munuscong should offer up some fine fishing. Water levels, while still down, are certainly manageable. Perch anglers out on Munuscong and the two bays are reporting more than a few walleyes finding their baits to the fishes’ liking. No, the lilacs aren’t blooming just yet but the ones in my backyard are sure showing signs of an early show of color. The weed growth on Munuscong is well ahead of last year. All very good things.

If there is one “downer” to the opener, and this happens year in and year out, it’s that the walleyes are widely scattered. It takes a good deal of weeds for the fish to congregate in these shallow places and we just don’t have that weed growth yet. The fish are going to be scattered.

Scattered fish mean one thing: you need to cover a fair amount of water in order to find them. One method that does this very well is trolling.

Trolling any time after early-to-mid June is a fool’s method with all the weeds grabbing a hold of your baits. Now, however, it is perfect.

You’re going to find two types of fish and what type you find is all dependent on the mood of the fish. On nice stable days the fish will be active. It’s your pick to the bait you use: a crawler harness or a trolled body bait. On days when the barometer is inching downward, the experts believe you should target the aggressive fish. Those mean ones that want to lash out. Rather than feed them you want to tick them off into chomping down on that thing in front of them.

One of the better baits for these aggressive fish is something like a Wiggle Wart or a Hot-N-Tot. Anything fat, short, and with a very tight wobble should do in the stained waters. The major vibrations call the aggressive fish in and hopefully they’ll hammer that thing.

Back to the nice days. Yup, those short and fat baits will still work, and you do troll them a bit faster than the next bait so you can cover more water, but there is one early season trolled bait that really shines when the fish are dumb and hungry.

That is where that magical mysterious crawler harness comes in. Troll them slow. Using the wind if it is just right, your trolling motor or your arms, just get the boat moving over likely water. Troll the crawler harnesses no more than foot off the bottom. Six inches is even better. Now just keep going.

Likely water includes changes in the bottom structure. Changes from gravel to sand or clay, or mud are a good bet. So is trolling by old weed beds and even better is if you can find some weed beds that are starting to show a good deal of green. These differences in the bottom or of the weeds represent an edge and walleyes like edges.

Now, keeping your crawler harness at the right depth will take some doing. A good rule of thumb is to get the boat to trolling speed and send the harness out on a free spool. When the harness hits bottom stop line from going out. After a few seconds do it again, stopping the line from going out when the harness hits bottom. And, after waiting five to 10 seconds do it all over again.

What this does is this– by letting out the line until it hits bottom you’re splitting differences. When you stop the line from going out the harness lifts off the bottom and climbs up. By doing this two or three times you are continuing to split the difference and getting ever closer to the bottom. And, the bottom is where the walleyes will be in these shallow waters.

There is another bait type that you should consider. If you are of the over 50 age you’ll remember one of the Godfathers of fishing shows, Virgil Ward. Well, ol’ Virgil had a favorite bait, so favored in fact that it took his name. That bait is the Virgil Ward Bass Buster Beetle Spin. Most shops carry the bait in simply the Beetle Spin name. In today’s world of gimmicks it’s nice to know that the old stuff still works well. Very well.

With a small blade on a piece of L-shaped wire that flashes above a jig head, which is dressed with a simple tandem tail plastic body, this “bass” bait, catches a heck of lot of walleyes. While I am not all that strong a believer in color making a difference in water that is heavily stained, I always put on a purple or black color to start. It rarely fails.

This is a bait that can be readily cast into likely areas but it can also be trolled very effectively. You’re going to want to get it close to the bottom, just like the harness. And, just like the harness, you can use the splitting the difference method to get it there.

Tomorrow I won’t be in the office. God willing and the weather doesn’t send a storm, you can bet I’ll be playing hooky. Some of you will, too.

Fresh walleyes are on the menu tomorrow night.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Thank you for this guest blog post by Dan Donarski on his love of Pure Michigan fishing, and the opening of trout season.

You have to get up early sometimes. It just can’t be helped, avoided- postponed any longer. The last Saturday in April is one of these.

Bare feet hit hardwood floors. Hunched over shoulders balanced on the side of the bed, elbows on knees and hands on face rubbing stubble.

Struggling to stand. A hobbling walk brings you to the kitchen. Hands find the light switch. Recoil at the invasion of light on the dark room.

Two cups of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. Time to get ready. Time to put on your Sunday-Go-To-Meeting clothes.

Old blue jeans. Tattered shirt. Well worn boots. A ball cap stained by sweat. A vest- whoa! Yeah, that vest. A bit ripe, that vest.

Trout season, Saturday Services trout season. Church of the Fallen Cedars season.

That’s the way it is with the opening day of trout season. To be quite frank, that’s the way it is with every day of trout season, every day when you can get away, anyway.

High holy days are many in the varied religions of the world and for well worn, worm smelling, fly-tossing, hardware-flinging trout bums, the opening day of trout season is every bit as meaningful, full of certain traditional rituals, and observed with the passion of zealots. I know- I am one. A trout bum that is.

Over the past several years I’ve headed to the same spot on opening day. I’ve fished it the same way, with the same bait, the same rod, and the same clothes. My wife, Kris, wishes I’d throw them out but I can’t, they are as much a part of the service happening on this little stretch of river, somewhere south of nowhere, as the trout themselves are. Maybe more.

Over the years I’ve met opening day with an ice spud and winter woolies to fish a trout lake when there was still too much snow to go into the stream. I’ve met others with short sleeved shirts and heavy doses of bug dope. I’m betting on the bug dope scenario this year.

My particular church is located in the eastern Upper Peninsula, somewhere between Raco and St. Ignace. Yours could well be in the pine barrens north of Marquette where the Yellow Dog flows lazily along, or maybe the storied waters of Iron County.

My afflicted brethren that live below the bridge have churches scattered from the swift waters of the Sturgeon River north of Gaylord, to Grayling, and the twin sons of different mothers, the Au Sable and Manistee Rivers.

Your pew may be in the form of a canoe or one of those sleek Au Sable River drift boats. Others, like me, will find our pew after a rather long hike in to waters rarely visited by other anglers. Mine is at the base of a big bend, a fallen cedar at the top end lies half buried in the river, the current scouring a deep hole just behind it. A cathedral of hemlock and cedar tickles the sky here.    

It would be nice to think I could fly fish this water, fly fishing is one of my greatest passions. However, this four-step-to-get-across stream just doesn’t have the room for a cast, my cast anyway. Instead I go with how I was taught by my father and uncle Clem. A nine-foot fly rod, the reel loaded with monofilament, a single split shot and a hook dressed with half a crawler. If you are a purist fly fisher change the crawler to a No. 10 Pink Nightie. (Hope you feel better.)

I’ll work the water slowly, dapping the crawler into current seams and using the rod to keep it there. I’ll let the current take the bait under the stream-bank, into those hidden hides that the larger fish favor. If the sun is bright and strong, and I get lazy, I’ll pitch that crawler just behind the cedar and let it sink into the hole before it settles on the bottom. Then I’ll just set the rod down and wait for a brook trout to come by and nip at the worm. Or not. Some baits are never taken, just as some prayers are not answered.

Spring and trout fishing go together like April showers and May flowers. They are intertwined, impassioned lovers. Trout bums such as I celebrate their union.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

Thank you to Dan Donarski for this great guest blog post on spring fishing and the steelhead run!

Sportsmen and women living in Michigan have it made. We really do. We have it so good in fact that all too often we take what we have for granted. I know I do at times.

Take spring, for instance, and in particular, the steelhead run. Right now dozens of our rivers are filling with silvery bright lake-run rainbow trout, or, as they are more often called, steelhead. These fish, weighing in at anywhere from seven to nearly 20 pounds are simply incredible. While this is only a guess, I’d hazard to say that our state has more “named” or steelhead rivers than the west coast.

Over the past few years I have taken this spring run for granted. I’d start on the St. Joe and the Muskegon in February, move to the Pere Marquette in March. In April, when extended season rivers open, I’d find the Boardman and dozens of smaller rivers in the Upper Peninsula. Then, right in my backyard of Sault Ste. Marie, come May 15 the run would just be starting to kick in on the St. Mary’s River and would go until mid June.

When you have it so good, well, we tend to forget how special it truly is.

By a quirk of fate, enter one Leon Joubert, “Spyker” to his friends. Spyker hails from South Africa in the small northern village of Vaalwater. And, for the last five years he has scheduled his business trips to the United States to coincide with the steelhead run. To be exact, Michigan’s steelhead run.

“You know, from my very first visit, I kept hearing of these fish called steelhead. I love to angle,” he says. “I bought a few of your sporting magazines and read up on them. The next year I made sure to schedule a couple days of fishing on the Pere Marquette in between business conventions.”

Talking with him, I learned that he has fished when ice still clung to the banks of the river, in blinding snowstorms, in the rain, and this year, in some un-spring-like warmth. “This year the conditions have been the best I’ve seen. I know it is supposed to be much colder than it is but I’m not complaining. Neither is my wife, Ilse.”

After hearing his fish stories over the past few years his wife joined him for the first time in the United States. “I don’t believe his stories about a meter of snow and all that ice. Not for a minute,” she says. “But, I do believe those fish stories now. This river, the Pere Marquette is wonderful.”

“Spyker told me that I’d love fly fishing and my guide, Tom Johnson, taught me that it is quite easy. It’s really quite a beautiful sport, too.”

Over dinner I learned that Spyker ended up the day catching three steelhead and losing four others. His wife caught one, and lost two others. “They take the fly so lightly you really have to pay attention. It took me awhile to figure it out but by the end of the day I was getting the hang of it pretty well.

“What was really nice was the wilderness, the wildness of the float trip. We saw an eagle, and a group of six deer came to the river bank as we floated barely two meters away. That was quite nice.”

What about the wading I asked?

“I like that best,” said Spyker. “We don’t get to do much of that where we live, not without a lookout anyway, not with the crocs and such. The pull of the water on the waders is nice. It was serious fun watching Ilse for the first time this morning trying to get around in waders. Now I know how funny I must have looked that first time.”

Before they left the table I asked them if they planned on coming back. Ilse didn’t let her husband answer.

“Yes, we’ll both be back, I’m not letting him come over and do this by himself anymore. I want to do it again, too. We’re coming back next year and staying an extra week just to fish more of the rivers. I hear there are quite a few of them.”

Ilse is right, of course, we have dozens of steelhead rivers. And, we have an extremely long season.

If you’re interested in a fly fishing trip for steelhead and wish for the whole fishing lodge experience, two facilities come immediately to mind. The Pere Marquette Lodge in Baldwin sits on the banks of the river and offers wonderful rooms and a complete fly shop. On the banks of the Muskegon you’ll find Gray Drake Lodge and their newest addition, Trout and Eagle Lodge. All three of these are top-notch lodges and know how to treat their angling guests.

Now it’s time for me to hit the river.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.