Wow,,, what a wonderful report wonderfully written. Thanks for letting me
share this great experience. Joyce


On Mon, Aug 18, 2014 at 9:57 AM, Eli Robillard <[email protected]> wrote:

> Great report, looking forward to the next installment. I've heard good
> things about that area but never had enough of an excuse to go, it's just a
> bit far off track when heading cross-country. I have tried further north at
> the Fox and Two-Hearted, more for an excuse to visit some Hemingway sites
> than anything, but they're not what you'd call "destination water."
> Michigan's beautiful space though, hope you get to post a few photos too.
>
>  Cheers,
>  -Eli.
>
>  -------- Original Message --------
> > From: "Christian E. Thalacker" <[email protected]>
> > Sent: August-15-14 11:13 AM
> > To: [email protected]
> > Subject: Trip Report ... the Au Sable River - Day 1
> >
> > The Au Sable Trip began Monday afternoon, after a two-day drive ...
> gladly
> > leaving behind the coal and diesel grit of Kentucky's largest inner city
> > (ugh, can you say flash-backs to the Mayor Marion Barry-era in 1980s
> DC?)
> > ... to the Great Lakes State, Michigan. Having spent 51 weeks working
> from
> > home in Louisville, I was homing into the Mason Tract Wilderness for
> some
> > much needed Rejuvenation With Nature ... well out of anyone's, or
> > anything's, "range".
> >
> > With me, a Hoshihara-sensei two-piece, two tip bamboo flyrod? Check.
> Dark
> > green Lamson reel with caramel Phoenix silk line & leader? Check.
> > Well-traveled Filson flyfishing vest with more flies, tools, floatants,
> > note-taking and water-coloring gear than necessary? Check. Check. Check.
> > Dropped off at the Traverse City Michigan Airport, a fair-sized
> waterfall
> > streamed over stone and stained glass, announcing that we were finally
> in
> > the Cherry Capital of the World ... aka The Land of Milk, Honey, Fruit,
> > Beautiful Brookies and ... possibility ... for the patient night-time
> > angler, the opportunity for big Brown Trout.
> >
> > With the nice lady at the Budget rental car counter, I efficiently
> > transacted plastic cards for keys and paper. Getting closer to the water
> > and woods ... getting closer to the water and woods. A short walk out of
> > the airport, past a few dozen cars, I was pleasantly surprised: a new
> slate
> > gray Beetle. Good karma to have an attractor-themed vehicle? Time will
> tell
> > whether the Biodiesel-mobile back home with the old-timer Desmo Atlantic
> > salmon replacement hood emblem would be jealous upon my return. I tried
> to
> > start the vehicle. Key in. Key turned. Foot on brake as the nice lady
> told
> > me. Nothing. Hmmm. Gear in "Park". Tried again. And again. Turns out,
> > "Herbie" required jealous stomping on the brake in mild frustration for
> the
> > engine to roar to life. A German thing?
> >
> > Captain, we have full power... what will our destination be?
> >
> > Traverse City is the Austin-Texas meets Fort Lauderdale of Western
> > Michigan: funky, cool vibe still in the air with Michael Moore's 100+
> Film
> > Festival at one end of town ... and here, three miles away, upscale
> hotels
> > on the beach plus trailer parks and themed fun across the tracks ...
> what's
> > your pleasure: Pirate Adventure, Mini Golf & more.
> >
> > Decisions, decisions: a meal in Traverse City, Michael Moore-watching or
> > hit the road to Troutville?
> >
> > No time was lost. Siri was directed to lead me to Gates Au Sable Lodge
> ...
> > which she did. Good girl Siri.
> >
> > About an hour later, through forests and the sprawling towns of Kalkaska
> > and Grayling, I crossed the Stephan Bridge and parked the car in the
> gravel
> > parking lot ... noticed a few couples laughing and grinning at picnic
> tables
> > on the grassy, stream-side lawn ... enjoying the slightly overcast, warm
> > day. The Gates Au Sable Fly Shop is connected to its restaurant ... a
> > bronze bell and a sliding window for take-out orders ... ice chest with
> > locally made root-beer+ ... lots of trees, lots of fishing trucks, and
> > store-front full of trout stickers and funky local sculpture.
> >
> > Hmmm ... I like this place.
> >
> > Inside the shop, several 30"-ish brown trout and 12"-ish brookie
> trophies
> > decorated the walls, a big portrait of Judge-Author John D. Voelker
> (along
> > with a great bumper sticker reflecting the Au Sable angling community's
> > unbelievable travails with watershed fracking: "We Won't Fish in Your
> Oil
> > Fields, If You Don't Drill on our River") kept watch over the cash
> > register, along with a treasure cave of gear: glass counters that I
> could
> > spend a lot more time drooling over: bench-made knives, stout reels,
> > autographed books ...
> >
> > Lodge owner-operator Josh Greenberg greeted me like an old friend. I
> > learned to appreciate that Josh is the author of "Rivers of Sand" - see
> > link below, a presence of gravitas on the big screen -see link below,
> and
> > an insatiable source of local streams to fish - sorry, that information
> > will remain unpublished ;-). If anyone can begin to fill Rusty
> > Gates' enormous boots, Josh is doing a fine job. He gave me my room key,
> > and let me know that my guide for the evening, Jordan was ready to go
> when
> > I was.
> >
> > Out in the parking, half a dozen cedar Au Sable river boats were on
> > trailers, their attendant guides strapping things in ... pre-school
> > teachers with trout PhDs for wanderers like me needing to reconnect with
> > their inner kid.
> >
> > Would I need a larger rod? Hmmmm ... yes to throw a 6 inch deer-hair &
> foam
> > frog. After dumping what I didn't need into the hotel room, I hurried
> back
> > to the fly shop.
> >
> > The question was ... did Gates Fly Shop have something with ... soul?
> >
> > Short answer: yes, a vintage Paul Young. Out of my price range. But I
> got
> > to lovingly admire it.
> >
> > Shorter answer: a Seele glass rod, hand-made in a Pennsylvania garage by
> > two of the best modern flycasters (Hardy Cup winners, anyone?) Michael
> > Mauri and Mike McFarland, plus a Rio line and Abel reel.
> >
> > All set up, Jordan beckoned me into the old Toyota 4Runner ... watch
> your
> > head, don't hit the kayak roof rack ... and away we drove. Gravel gave
> to
> > asphalt then to dirt ... one of the beautiful things about the Au Sable
> > river system ... it weaves sunlight and forest and water together ...
> soon
> > day-dreaming, I imagined Great-Grandfather Emmett here with his kids ...
> a
> > generation later, Grampie fishing the Whippoorwill Lodge section, up
> from
> > George Griffith's house on the hill ... then teaching my uncles and dad
> to
> > fish, before going out alone at night for big browns. They are all
> wetting
> > their lines in the great trout stream above. I kept thinking how much
> > Hoshihara-sensei and Dr. Sato would appreciate fishing here, in this
> life
> > ...
> >
> > The 4Runner stopped, Jordan got his gear out and into the boat, and I
> > followed. The weather was still warm, and the water cold. No waders and
> > boots today ... the water felt baptismally good to me. Rinsing
> symbolically
> > my hands, I said a prayer to The Great Spirit, and stowed my jacket and
> > gear. We were soon gliding down the river, the afternoon birds flitting
> to
> > and fro: kingfishers, eagles, cedar waxwings, ospreys, blue herons, geese
> &
> > their young ... while the river otters, musk-rats and mink looked at us
> > curiously from shore and stream.
> >
> > Jordan anchored the boat, tied on a fair-sized dry fly that I had never
> > seen before ... a Patriot, and recommended that I cast ... to various
> deep
> > pools, bank-side and ... slam, one fish after another came to the net
> and
> > quickly released ... brookie, brownie, brookie, brownie ...
> >
> > Darkness slowly descended, and Jordan switched to another fly I had
> never
> > seen before ... a Gurgler. We continued slowly drifting down the river
> ...
> > the occasional splash drew our attention ...
> >
> > Cast 12 o'clock ... 20 feet ... let the fly drift to him ... then say
> "God
> > Save The" and set the hook.
> >
> > Jordan's advice was dead right ... the trout slashed at my fly, but the
> > adrenaline flowing, I felt the big fish ... but pulled the rod-tip up
> too
> > quickly, and didn't set the hook.
> >
> > Cast again, 15 feet ahead ... again, the big bruiser slashed at my fly
> ...
> > I waited what I thought was a second before trying to set the hook, but
> > away the fish swam ... no doubt smiling.
> >
> > The rest of the night was like that: I am learning lessons.
> >
> > That night, drifting to sleep, I dreamt that I was a big brown trout.
> Hope
> > for me tomorrow?
> >
> > Christian Thalacker
> >
> > And remember ... Badgers don't fight fair ... that's why God made
> > Dachshunds.
> >
> > PS: interesting links in no particular order ...
> > 1. http://museum.msu.edu/s-program/mh_awards/awards/1988js.html
> > 2. http://www.gatesflyshop.com/The-River-_p_555.html
> > 3. http://www.amazon.com/Seasons-Au-Sable-Rusty-Gates/dp/1587264528
>

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