Fly Fishing the Middle-M’s of Western Michigan

There are places that for lack of a better term are immortal, bigger than their names. Some would say that our own Assembly Hall is just such a place. As a kid growing up and having the privilege to watch many of the Men’s Basketball games at IU in the mid-70’s…it was an iconic building that was filled with lore and tradition.

While I have never been to Lambeau Field to watch the Packers play, this too seems to be one of those endearing sites that isn’t just about watching football; it’s about being a part of something much bigger.

Walking the hallowed-grounds of Gettysburg is yet another venue that speaks to you from the ground, the trees, and the buildings. I certainly don’t believe in ghost, etc…but you can’t walk through this battlefield and not get a little ‘willy’ up and down your spine.

For me…such is the case with great waters, whether they be flowing or stationary. This past month (July) while on vacation I once again had the privilege of fishing a few ‘great-waters’; two of which were in the western half of the Lower Peninsula of Michigan. For years I have read about the magic that goes on with both the Manistee and Muskegon Rivers.

I know I am going to slight one of the other great rivers in Michigan but you can basically divide the state (Lower Peninsula) into four rivers; three on the western edge (those that flow into Lake Michigan) and one on the eastern side (that flows into Lake Huron). Along with the Manistee and Muskegon the Pere Marquette River flows east to west and dumps into Lake Michigan; it is considered to be one of their best waters. The Au Sable River flows from west to east and dumps into Lake Huron and probably has the most lore and mystique of all Michigan waters…in fact it was on the Au Sable in 1959 that Trout Unlimited was founded and still ‘rages’ on today in its efforts to save both water and trout.

Let’s start with the Manistee as I fished it first as I worked my way from north to south. I will have to say right up front that the Manistee was a bit too much river for me. To fish it by myself, in my Creek Company Voyager, whereby I have to both negotiate the water, try and cast, land fish, stay out of trouble…well, as I said, it was too much. That being the case I don’t want in any way to say that I didn’t totally enjoy my day upon this awesome waterway.

I put in between the town of Mesick and Tippy dam in a section of water that quite frankly isn’t for the faint of heart; truth is it was quite an affair to just get my boat upon the water. Vickie and I drove for many miles down a one lane logging road to a campground perched high atop a bluff looking a hundred feet or so down into the river basin. From there I had to make a down-hill portage. One way, down a steep and narrow trail, dragging my boat, fly-rod, etc…let’s just say getting started was interesting and a bit tedious.

The water was dark, tannic, and moving quickly with a flow that was quite surprising. I hadn’t even gotten around the first big bend until I flung my shad colored streamer towards an eddy with an overhanging limb. I put in an upstream mend that gave the fly a second to drift when I felt the line tighten. I immediately and powerfully strip set with my left hand and knew in milli-seconds that I was taunt to a very good fish. That was the easy part. Now I had to negotiate the river, the many downed trees (commonly referred to as ‘sweepers) and keep my prize from wrapping itself up in any of a hundred snags!

Success came just a few seconds later as Iipped my prize, an 18 inch river smallie that was adorned with an emerald color that will long live in my memory. I snapped a few pics and quickly released the bomber back into the water…as he left I quipped, “Thanks for playing this afternoon”. Before I left the river some 5 miles westward I had caught several other chunky smallies and nailed a 19 inch largemouth that had me scratching my head as I pulled it into my lap. A big smallie and largemouth in one river pass…The Manistee had indeed lived up to its billing!

The next morning we packed up the camper and drove south an hour or so to the Michigan City of Newaygo…The Muskegon would bisect the town and give us our home for two days. The Muskegon River Fly Shop was one of ‘those’ places; I got much needed river wisdom along with a few fly tying materials. We parked the camper at Henning Park as it was located on the shores of The Muskegon and would make for an easy way to fish the river westward, back to our camper.

While I didn’t want to and certainly knew better…I arrived at the river access just before 11am; tubers and other kayakers would and were making their way back to town as well. It isn’t that I don’t want to share, but often (as was the case this time) alcohol rears its ugly head and the peace and tranquility of a beautiful river can be obscured. Despite my fellow “river-goers” I was able to land over a dozen healthy, beautiful and quite feisty smallmouth bass. The largest was a strong 16 incher that ripped out from under a downed tree to smash my silver offering. The Muskegon was, for me, heaven. I loved each and every second…especially the following morning as I accessed the river just above Carmichael-Flats at a bit past 6am, I floated serenely along, landing smallies, all while being able to listen to nature at its finest.

My first two adventures on the big waters of Western Michigan had been a total success. Only time and a few hundred miles keeps me from becoming a river rat on both of these great and majestic streams…and just like watching Coach Knight in Assembly Hall…these big waters will live on in my memories for what I hope is an eternity. Fly-fishing these iconic rivers has opened up a new door to a bigger picture, one that only nature can answer for me…come along as we Enjoy the Great Outdoors.