Wayne Knight
August 24th, 2005, 05:19 AM
For I have sullied the Holy Waters of the AuSable by using a weighted prince
nymph to fool the wiley and sulking brown trout. It worked ;)
On the eve of the 47th year and nine month anniversary of two people who
probably never should have met, much less have spoke, having sex I pulled
into the parking lot of the lodge about 11:30 pm on Friday night. After
listening to Mrs. Knight moan about the air conditioning (none) and then
listening to her moan about the bugs in the room (caddis and trico's) we
settled down for some sleep. As the lodge is on the water I awoke around 3am
to take care of the remnants of the coffee bought at the gas station in
Lansing and and decided to sit on the porch. While I was tired, the river
was bathed in the light of a full moon and no clouds. Since I know this
section fairly well, I decided a little head hunting would be in order. I
went to the car, put on the waders, checked the headlamp and strung up a
seven weight with a fast sink poly leader and a three foot section of 0X
tippet . I tied on the biggest, hairest streamer in my vest. It's a muddler
minnow with so much spun deer hair, it's more like a popper until one gets
it good and soaked. I walked back out to the road and up a two track, my
back and hip holding up surprisingly well, to a cabin owned by a friend who
I knew was in Detroit for the weekend. Putting in the water off of his dock
I waded upstream.( I had not head hunted since an abreviated trip in NC
where Louie had his way with a tree and I realized I had taken a four weight
reel on my 6wt rod) I popped that sucker under every deadfall, submerged log
and undercut bank I could make out in the half mile wade back to the lodge.
The river here is narrow and the deep holes run along the bends making
wading up the middle of the stream, even in the dark, relatively easy and
safe. I wish I could say I landed a hog of a brownie, but alas my one
hookup, while it might have been a decent fish based on the first tug and
run making the Hardy start to sing, ended very quickly when the *fly* pulled
free.
By now it was getting close to sun rise and things were starting to stir as
I got back to the lodge grounds and climbed out. Another guest saw me and
we spoke of the wade, he mentioned the section had been seeing morning trico
hatches. I thanked him, unstrung the 7wt, and pulled out the 3wt, lengthened
the leader to 6x, and exchanged my sttreamer box for a box of small dry
flies. Stopping by the office to grab some coffee, I sat by the stream and
waited, and waited, and waited....etc. The birds were active and there were
a few bugs in the air but the water, which by now i could see was running
higher than normal was calm, no dimples showed.
After showering and taking the family for breakfast, I headed towards the
Smith Bridge section. Mid-August in Michigan usually means terrestials,
primarily ants and hoppers. My daughter, a friend, and myself waded in.
Right after we got in the skies broke loose, no lighting but a decent
downpour. As we had anticipated this and had rain coats on before climbing
in we kept fishing, my daughter with a drake, me with a hopper and steve
with some streamer. The highlight of the trip happened when my daughter who
had been with me several times before but had never completely hooked and
landed a fish herself accomplished the feat with a medium sized brown. She
finally had listened to dear old dad, her loops were tight, the spots she
choose to fish were the right spots and she paid attention to what she was
doing. And even at 23 and this had been going on and off for several years,
I was as proud as I could be. I had a few hits at the hopper but nothing
and it was still raining so we decided a warm car, coffee and clear glasses
would be in order.
After a trip to Gaylord for dinner, we were back on the river at the lodge.
The rain had raised the river even more, though it was not muddy, it was
definintely high. And the front had passed lowering both the temps and
humidity. But I had to be back in Indiana by four on Sunday, and it has
become a little tradition for me to travel to catch a trout on my birthday
so it was becoming apparent that I was in danger of breaking the cycle.
That seemed like bad juju to me so I sinned. In sinning, I found some
takers deep in two holes, nothing monsterous or heroic, but I still got to
admire the beauty that are the brown trout of the AuSable and the tradition
continues.
After a night spent with friends, malts, and vices (my swap flies are done),
I hit the water early with no success on Sunday morning, then got the wife
and kid and headed home.
nymph to fool the wiley and sulking brown trout. It worked ;)
On the eve of the 47th year and nine month anniversary of two people who
probably never should have met, much less have spoke, having sex I pulled
into the parking lot of the lodge about 11:30 pm on Friday night. After
listening to Mrs. Knight moan about the air conditioning (none) and then
listening to her moan about the bugs in the room (caddis and trico's) we
settled down for some sleep. As the lodge is on the water I awoke around 3am
to take care of the remnants of the coffee bought at the gas station in
Lansing and and decided to sit on the porch. While I was tired, the river
was bathed in the light of a full moon and no clouds. Since I know this
section fairly well, I decided a little head hunting would be in order. I
went to the car, put on the waders, checked the headlamp and strung up a
seven weight with a fast sink poly leader and a three foot section of 0X
tippet . I tied on the biggest, hairest streamer in my vest. It's a muddler
minnow with so much spun deer hair, it's more like a popper until one gets
it good and soaked. I walked back out to the road and up a two track, my
back and hip holding up surprisingly well, to a cabin owned by a friend who
I knew was in Detroit for the weekend. Putting in the water off of his dock
I waded upstream.( I had not head hunted since an abreviated trip in NC
where Louie had his way with a tree and I realized I had taken a four weight
reel on my 6wt rod) I popped that sucker under every deadfall, submerged log
and undercut bank I could make out in the half mile wade back to the lodge.
The river here is narrow and the deep holes run along the bends making
wading up the middle of the stream, even in the dark, relatively easy and
safe. I wish I could say I landed a hog of a brownie, but alas my one
hookup, while it might have been a decent fish based on the first tug and
run making the Hardy start to sing, ended very quickly when the *fly* pulled
free.
By now it was getting close to sun rise and things were starting to stir as
I got back to the lodge grounds and climbed out. Another guest saw me and
we spoke of the wade, he mentioned the section had been seeing morning trico
hatches. I thanked him, unstrung the 7wt, and pulled out the 3wt, lengthened
the leader to 6x, and exchanged my sttreamer box for a box of small dry
flies. Stopping by the office to grab some coffee, I sat by the stream and
waited, and waited, and waited....etc. The birds were active and there were
a few bugs in the air but the water, which by now i could see was running
higher than normal was calm, no dimples showed.
After showering and taking the family for breakfast, I headed towards the
Smith Bridge section. Mid-August in Michigan usually means terrestials,
primarily ants and hoppers. My daughter, a friend, and myself waded in.
Right after we got in the skies broke loose, no lighting but a decent
downpour. As we had anticipated this and had rain coats on before climbing
in we kept fishing, my daughter with a drake, me with a hopper and steve
with some streamer. The highlight of the trip happened when my daughter who
had been with me several times before but had never completely hooked and
landed a fish herself accomplished the feat with a medium sized brown. She
finally had listened to dear old dad, her loops were tight, the spots she
choose to fish were the right spots and she paid attention to what she was
doing. And even at 23 and this had been going on and off for several years,
I was as proud as I could be. I had a few hits at the hopper but nothing
and it was still raining so we decided a warm car, coffee and clear glasses
would be in order.
After a trip to Gaylord for dinner, we were back on the river at the lodge.
The rain had raised the river even more, though it was not muddy, it was
definintely high. And the front had passed lowering both the temps and
humidity. But I had to be back in Indiana by four on Sunday, and it has
become a little tradition for me to travel to catch a trout on my birthday
so it was becoming apparent that I was in danger of breaking the cycle.
That seemed like bad juju to me so I sinned. In sinning, I found some
takers deep in two holes, nothing monsterous or heroic, but I still got to
admire the beauty that are the brown trout of the AuSable and the tradition
continues.
After a night spent with friends, malts, and vices (my swap flies are done),
I hit the water early with no success on Sunday morning, then got the wife
and kid and headed home.