Forgotten Treasures #23: THE MICHIGAN GRAYLING
THE MICHIGAN GRAYLING*
By Thaddeus Norris
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Until within a few years, that portion of Michigan extending from the
forty-fourth parallel to the Straits of Mackinaw, dotted with beautiful
lakes and traversed by many a clear, winding river, was terra incognita to
the fly-fisher; and although we were told years ago by explorers and
adventurous anglers that trout in great numbers and of large size were taken
in the waters of the northern portion of the peninsula, the grayling by its
true name was unknown, and does not now form a subject for any of our
angling authors. It was supposed that, except in the Arctic regions, it did
not exist on our continent. About ten years ago, however, hunters, and
those who were looking up timber lands, began to talk of a white-meated fish
with all the game qualities of the trout, which they captured in streams of
both water-sheds-east and west-as an addition to their venison and
"hard-tack." It was known to them as the "white trout," the "Crawford
County trout," and under other local names, until a specimen in alcohol was
sent to Professor E. D. Cope, of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural
Sciences, who described it in the proceedings of that institution in the
year 1865, and gave it the scientific name of Thymallus tricolor, the
generic name arising from the fresh thyme-y smell of the fish when first
taken from the water, the specific appellation having reference to its
beautiful dorsal fin. And yet its discovery as a true grayling escaped the
notice of nearly all of our fly-fishers; and to the few who might have
meditated an expedition in search of it, its habitat was far off and then
almost inaccessible. The following passage, however, from "American Fish
Culture" (p. 196), by the present writer, and published by Porter & Coates,
in 1867, soon after Professor Cope described the fish, attracted the notice
of Mr. J. V. Le Moyne, of Chicago.
"While on a trout-fishing excursion lately in the northern part of
Pennsylvania, I met a very intelligent, though not a scientific person, who
informed me that in exploring some timber lands on the Au Sable, in
Michigan, he came across a new kind of trout which he had never seen before.
From his description it was doubtless this news species of Thymallus. He
said it readily took a bait of a piece of one of its fellows, a piece of
meat being used to capture the first fish; and that it was very beautiful
and of delicious flavor."
The following summer, after consulting persons interested in timber lands,
Mr. Le Moyne packed his "kit" and found his way by steamer to Little
Traverse Bay, and thence by canoe through a series of lakes to the River
Jordan, where he had great sport, not only with grayling, but with trout of
good size, taking both from the same pool, and not unfrequently one of each
on the same cast. I may here mention that the Jordan is one of the few
streams in Michigan in which both are found. Trout are unknown in the
Manistee and Au Sable. My friend, Mr. D. H. Fitzhugh Jr., of Bay City, the
year following, took them in the Rifle and went by a new railroad then being
built to the Hersey and Muskegon, walking twenty miles of the distance. He
had been waiting with much interest the extension of the Jackson, Lansing,
and Saginaw Railroad northward, and in 1873, when it crossed the Au Sable,
he launched his boat high up on that lovely river. Since then the fame of
the rare sporting qualities of this fish has spread among anglers, and they
now come from many of our large towns and cities (especially those of the
West) to camp on the banks of the Michigan rivers and enjoy the sport.
The European species (T. vexillifer) is mentioned by all English authors on
angling from the time of Dame Juliana Berners to the present. The opinion
is advanced by some of them that it was introduced into England when under
the religious sway of the see of Rome, as it is generally found in rivers
near the ruins of old monasteries. Sir Humphrey [sic] Davy, in his
"Salmonia" (1828), wrote of it as inhabiting the Avon, the Ure, the Nye, and
the Dee; and Hofland (1839), in addition to those, mentions the Trent, the
Dove, the Derwent, the Wharfe, and a few other rivers. Sir Humphrey Davy
also tells us that it is found in some of the rivers of Sweden and Norway.
A friend of the writer, who of late years has been in the habit of spending
his summers in Bavaria, has had fair sport with grayling in the Isar and
Traun, near Munich and Traunstein, as also in the Inn and Salza, and
mentions the names of a few quiet English anglers who come annually in
September to fish these rivers.
European waters, however, were probably never as prolific of grayling as
those of Michigan; for trout, which feed largely on the young of all fish,
are there found in the same streams. In Michigan rivers where grayling most
abound there are no trout, and the fry of their own and other species are
never found in their stomachs. The various orders of flies which lay their
eggs in running water, and the larvae of such flies, appear to be their only
food.
Writers in sporting papers have recently claimed that grayling have also
been found in the older States of the Union. If this be the fact, they are
now extinct. They are said to exist in some few of the rivers of Wisconsin,
which is quite probable, and also in Montana and Dakota. Dr. Richardson, in
his "Fauna Boreali-Americana," gives not only a glowing description of the
exquisite beauty of Back's grayling (T. signifer), but speaks with all the
ardor of a true angler of its game qualities. The Esquimaux title, Hewlook
powak, denoting wing-like fin, he says, alludes to its magnificent dorsal,
which, as in the Michigan grayling, exceeds in size and beauty that of the
European species.
Grayling, wherever found, are spring spawners, as also are the smelt and the
capelin or spearling. All other genera of the salmon family spawn in
autumn. The usual time with grayling, both here and in Europe, is the
latter part of April and early in May. They do not push for the very
sources of rivers, leaping falls and flapping sidewise over shallows to find
some little rivulet as trout do, but deposit their ova in the parts of the
stream where they are taken, or, if such portions are not of the proper
temperature, they will sometimes seek the mouths of smaller and cooler
affluents. The time of their spawning is limited to a few days or a week or
so. Of the experts who have gone to the Au Sable to express the ova,
fertilize it, and bring it East to introduce this fish into the Atlantic
States, one found that they were not ready to spawn, and the next season
another, who went a week or so later, found that they had spawned. I have
taken fry as long as my little finer on the first of September, which were
the produce of eggs spawned in April. those that came from ova of the
preceding year were six inches long; at two years old, they are ten or
twelve inches long; at three years old, they are thirteen to fifteen inches
long; and at four years, sixteen or seventeen inches, and weigh from
three-quarters of a pound to a pound and a quarter; each succeeding year
adding proportionately less to their length and more to their girth. An
Abundance or deficiency of food, however, has much influence on their
growth, while some are naturally more thrifty than others. Sir Humphrey
Davy says: "Grayling hatched in June become in the same year, in September
or October, nine or ten inches long, and weigh from half a pound to ten
ounces, and the next year are from twelve to fifteen inches." On this
point, as will be seen from the foregoing, I differ with him. I think he
must have written from hearsay.
In Michigan, in a day's fishing, the true-hearted angler returns to the
water a great many more than he puts in his live-box. He will keep none
under a half pound, and where the streams are so abundantly stocked he will
not begrudge their liberty to all under that weight. Our grayling are much
more slender than the European species, but, if we credit English authors,
do not attain as large a size. Three-fourths of a pound with us is a good
average size, and one of a pound and a quarter is considered a large fish.
I have heard, however, of their being taken in the Jordan over three pounds.
The grayling is a fish of more symmetrical proportions than the trout,
although it has not the vermilion spots and bright colors over its body, but
its head and mouth are much smaller, and with handsome, prominent eyes. Its
habits also differ materially from those of the trout. It is never found in
the strong, turbulent water at the head of a rift, but in the deeper
portions of the smoothly gliding stream. It avoids a bottom of clay or the
mosses so common to the beds of Michigan rivers, but is always found on
gravel or sand. Its rise is straight up-sharp and sudden, and when its
attention is once drawn to the artificial line, it does not turn back, as a
trout does, on getting sight of the angler, but in its eagerness disregards
him entirely, and in running a river with the speed of the current, or even
if the boat is poled along down stream, it frequently takes the fly within a
few feet of the pole or the boat. Its play is quite as vigorous as that of
the trout, and it leaps frequently above the surface of the water before it
is sufficiently exhausted to be drawn in. There is this difference,
however, between the two. The trout, like a certain denomination of
Christians, seems to believe in "final perseverance," and will kick and
struggle to the last, even as it is lifted in; while the grayling, after you
have sufficiently overcome its obstinate pluck to get its head above water,
is taken in with pendent tail, as much as to say, "It's all up"; but as soon
as it touches the floor of the boat, its flapping and floundering begin. If
it takes a sheer across the current, with its large dorsal fin, it offers
greater resistance than the trout. Where they are so numerous, one seldom
uses the landing-net, for few escape by breaking away, and if they do, there
are more to take hold at the next cast.
If in fishing with a whip of three flies the angler hooks a fish on either
of his droppers, the stretcher fly as it sails around beneath is pretty sure
of enticing another, and not unfrequently the disengaged dropper hooks a
third fish. Sometimes, as I have sat on the cover of the live-box, I have
looked down to see three of these bright fish, after I had exhausted them,
all in a row, their dorsal fins erect and waving in the clear water like so
many beautiful leaves of the coleus. Nor is the grayling in taking a fly as
chary a fish as the trout. On a perfectly still water you may see the
latter rising and taking in the minute natural flies, when the veriest
artificial midge will not tempt it; but let even a light breeze spring up
and a ripple appear of the surface, and then it cannot distinguish the
natural from the artificial, and will take hold. The grayling, on the
contrary, is the most eager, unsophisticated fish imaginable. When it sees
anything bearing the most remote semblance of life, it "goes for it," even
if the water is as smooth as a mirror.
The whole of Michigan south of the Straits of Mackinaw may certainly be
called flat country. The only rising grounds to be found are a few sandy
eminences,-they can scarcely be called hills,-the formation of which we
leave the geologist to account for. And yet the rivers abrading against
these sand-hills occasionally cause precipitous bluffs (few of which exceed
a hundred feet), or such an elevation as is known in a lumberman's parlance
as a "roll-way."
There is a gradual but almost imperceptible elevation from Bay City or Grand
Rapids to the region where grayling are found. From the former to Grayling,
where the railroad crosses the Au Sable, a distance of nearly a hundred
miles, there is a rise of seven hundred feet, which gives the rivers an
average current of about two and a half miles an hour. Wherever there is a
contraction in the width of the stream, however, especially around a bend,
its velocity may be three, four, or even five miles, but on account of the
absence of rocks in the bottom, it almost invariably flows smoothly. The
strength of the current can only be seen where the ends of half-sunken logs
or "sweepers" project above the surface, or when the canoeman turns his prow
up-stream.
The grayling region on the Lake Huron water-shed has a top stratum of coarse
white sand. On the streams flowing toward Lake Michigan, the sand is
yellow, with more or less admixture of vegetable loam. The rains falling on
these sandy plains and percolating through meet with a lower stratum of
impervious clay, and thus form under-ground courses which crop out at the
margin or in the beds of the streams and keep them at the temperature of
spring water.
The eighth longitudinal line west from Washington may be considered the apex
of the water-sheds, declining East and West, although the head-waters of
streams occasionally interlock. By a short "carry," one can pass from the
head-waters of the Manistee to those of the Au Sable. I have seen marks on
both of these streams that gave evidence that surveyors did so forty years
ago, and have no doubt that it was a route used by the Indians in crossing
from Lake Michigan to Lake Huron.
The country, except on the barrens, furnishes a fine growth of white and
yellow pine, as well as oak, beech, maple, and other hard woods. White
cedars-the arbor vitae of the East-invariably fringe the banks of rivers a
few miles below their sources, which are generally in ponds or lakes. These
trees appear to love spring water, and do not appear until the stream has
acquired that temperature. Growing on the banks of the streams, the current
washes away the loose soil from their roots, which causes them to incline
over and at last to fall into the water; and these are called "sweepers."
These rivers, from the constant influx of spring water, never freeze, and
owing to the slight water-shed and sandy top-soil are not subject to
freshets, a spring rise of two feet being considered excessive. Such
streams, here and in Europe, are the home of the grayling, for it loves
water of a low, even temperature and a smooth, steady current.
The game-laws of Michigan recently enacted forbid the spearing and netting
of grayling at all times, and do not admit of them being taken even with
hook and line from January until June. These fish acquire condition soon
after spawning, but are better in autumn and in season nearly all winter.
So after the first of September the sportsman can unite shooting with
fishing. Several summers ago, in August, while running the Au Sable, we
counted twelve deer and two bears. As they were out of season, and my
friend Fitzhugh was a stickler for the observance of the game-laws in every
instance, we resisted the temptation to shoot them.
The country I have described had, of course, none of that awe-inspiring
scenery we find on the shores of Lake Superior; but with its clear,
ever-flowing, ever-winding rivers over white and yellow sands, with graceful
cedars projecting at a sharp angle from the banks, and every bend of the
stream opening a new view, it is novel and pleasing to one who has been shut
up all winter in a crowded city. In running a grayling stream, the feeling
is one of peace and quietude. There are no song-birds in those deep woods.
One only hears the far-off falling of some old forest tree, or that weird
sound caused by the rubbing of the branch of one tree against that of
another, as they are swayed to and from by the wind, and in the distance one
can almost fancy that it is a human voice. Otherwise all is as silent as
death.
My first raid upon the grayling was in August, 1874, with Mr. Fitzhugh, of
Bay City, on the Au Sable. We ran this river from Grayling, on the northern
branch of the Jackson, Saginaw, and Lansing Railroad, to Thompson's, a
distance of a hundred and sixty miles. From Thompson's, after loading our
two boats on a stout two-horse wagon and occupying another with springs, we
drove twenty-five miles to Tawas City, and then, after a few hours on a
steamer, back to Bay City. There is no grayling-fishing at the station
called Grayling, nor until one gets four or five miles down the stream where
the cedars appear. From this as far as we ran it,-and there was yet sixty
miles of it below Thompson's,-it is a beautiful stream, much prettier, I
think, more rapid, and less obstructed with sweepers, than the Manistee.
The distance by land is about seventy miles. On our second day, we killed
and salted down-heads and tails off-a hundred and twenty pounds of fish,
besides eating all we wanted. In one hanging rift close by the bank, as Len
Iswel, my pusher, held on to the cedar boughs, I took at five casts fifteen
fish, averaging three-quarters of a pound each. The following day, we
fished along leisurely until we had our live-boxes, containing each sixty
pounds, so full that the fish began to die. Then we passed over splendid
pools in which we could see large schools of grayling on the bottom without
casting a fly; for we would not destroy them in mere wantonness. In a few
days, however, we came across occasional timber camps, when we commenced
fishing again, and supplied all hands with fresh fish. One can leave Bay
City by railroad in the morning and arrive at Grayling early enough in the
afternoon to embark and drop down-stream seven or eight miles the same
night. He should, however, engage boats and pushers beforehand.
There are two large branches, flowing almost as much as the main stream,
that enter the Au Sable. The south-west comes in about forty-five miles
below Grayling and the north branch sixty miles below. On this last stream
there is a sluice dam, and when it is let off to float logs during the
summer and autumn, the water is discolored somewhat, and the fish do not
rise as well. One can get all the fishing he wants by running as far down
as the south-west branch, which, as already stated, is forty-five miles by
water, and is only twelve miles back to Grayling by land. He can engage a
wagon at Grayling to come with ice on a stated day and haul back his boats,
his luggage, and his fish, thus saving the labor of pushing back up-stream,
which would occupy two days of incessant toil.
When I fished the Manistee several years ago, I went from Grayling with Mr.
Fitzhugh and another friend, accompanied by our pushers, over "the barrens,"
a distance of eight miles, to a camp established by I. F. Babbit, to fish
with hook and line for the Bay City and Detroit markets. We made a
permanent camp four miles below Babbit's, and fished five days, giving him
three-fourths of our fish, which he came for every day, and which (keeping
none under a half pound) amounted to over five hundred pounds.
One of my most pleasant trips, however, was that of the latter part of
August and early in September of the following year, when, in company with
two young friends, I spent two weeks on the Manistee. We went by the Grand
Rapids and Indiana Railroad to Mancelona, well up toward the Straits of
Mackinaw. Here we loaded boats, stores, and camp equipage on a wagon drawn
by a pair of stout horses, and journeyed eleven miles east to the
head-waters of the main branch. Our trip was dashed with a spice of
adventure and a good deal of hard work. We had struck the stream higher up
than we expected. It was small, scarcely sufficient to float our boats, and
still had the temperature it had acquired in the little lake which was its
source. There were no cedars, which only appear when the streams have
flowed far enough from the ponds to feel the influence of spring water. On
the morning of the second day, we came to the cedars and cold water, and
with them the sweepers, which are cedars, as already described, which have
been undermined by the current and have fallen into the water and always
across the stream. We had three days and a half of hard chopping and
hauling our boats over huge cedar logs, some of which had probably lain
there for a century-for a cedar log, it if remains in the water, never rots.
On coming to some of these logs, we had to make a "carry," placing our
luggage on their mossy covered trunks and pulling our empty boats over. We
would then load up and go on to cut more sweepers and make more carries. At
last, the stream widened and was free of sweepers, and we had magnificent
fishing. The grayling were perfectly reckless and would take one's flies
within ten feet of the boats. It was virgin water; no fly had heretofore
been cast on it. After a day's sport, we came to the sweepers again, and
had a day and a half more with them and half-sunken logs and a few carries.
At two or three of these carries, the logs were over two feet through.
Mosses had grown and spread on them until, as we saw by certain signs, bears
used them as a highway. On one we found thrifty cedars growing at regular
intervals from the parent trunk that were more than half a century old.
Soon the stream increased so much in volume, and was so wide, that a tree
falling across could not obstruct the passage of our boats; and finally we
came to open water again. And so we ran the stream down to Walton Junction,
a hundred and fifty miles by water, while it was scarce fifty on a bee-line.
The boat used on my first trip is worth description. It was built of white
pine; bottom, 1 inch think; sides, 3/8; 16 feet long; 2.10 wide on top, 2.4
at bottom, and with a sheer of three inches on each side. The bottom was
nearly level for eight feet in the center, with a sheer of five inches to
the bow and seven inches to stern. The live-box was six feet from bow,
extending back two feet. The sides were nailed to the bottom. Its weight
was eighty pounds, and it carried two men-the angler and the pusher-with 200
pounds of luggage. With two coats of paint, it cost about fifteen dollars.
The angler sits on the movable cover of the live-box, which is water-tight
from other portions of the boat, and has holes bored in sides and bottom to
admit of circulation of the water to keep the fish alive, and as he captures
his fish he slips them into holes on the right and left sides. An axe was
always taken along to clear the river of fallen logs and sweepers.
My customary tackle on these excursions is a twelve-foot rod of about eight
and a half ounces; leaders eight feet long, and flies on hooks ranging from
No. 7 to No. 10 (O'Shaughnessy). I have found most of the flies used on
Pennsylvania steams effective, and one can scarcely go amiss in his
selection. One summer, I used for two weeks the same whip, viz.:
"Professor" for the stretcher, "Silver Widow" for first, and "White-winged
Coachman" for second dropper. The first is tied with guinea-fowl feather
for wings, an amber or yellow-dyed hackle for legs, a yellow floss body
wound with gold tinsel, and three sprigs of scarlet ibis for tail. The
second has black wings, black hackle, and black body wound with silver
tinsel. The third has white wings, red hackle, undyed, and body of peacock
hurl.
As to stores. We found that for five men, including pushers, the following
were about the right quantities for a two weeks' supply: 50 lbs. Flour, 1
bushel potatoes, 25 lbs. of breakfast bacon, 12 lbs. butter, ½ peck of
onions, with corn meal, tea, coffee, sugar, condensed milk, a jar of
pickles, and a few cans of corn and tomatoes. Bread is a difficult thing to
take or to keep in good condition. I would advise, therefore the taking of
a portable sheet-iron stove, which, with a baker and all other appliances
and conveniences, does not weigh over thirty-five pounds. With a box of
yeast powder, hot rolls can be had at every meal.
END, THE MICHIGAN GRAYLING.
Wolfgang
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*From "Sport with Gun and Rod in American Woods and Waters," Alfred M. Mayer
(ed.), The Century Company, 1883.
This work is in the public domain. To the best of my knowledge, its
inclusion here violates no U. S. or other copyright laws.
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