Well, I caught my first daytime hex trout over two feet long this past weekend. It was a pretty good story. It starts on Saturday, when I drove to a nearby access to check out what was going on. As I was standing at the launch, I see fellow guide and friend Ron Racozy with two clients fishing for what looks to be a large trout. Then I spot the bugs. Hex duns were all over the water. Mind you, daytime Hex hatches are rare, especially on the Au Sable.
As I looked up, I saw one of Ron's clients hook into the fish. After a fair amount of commotion, the fish is netted and Ron yells down to me that it is a "25 or 26 incher." I saw the fish, I saw the duns, and I realized it was time to gear up. However, that day was not to be the day I landed the big one.
Sunday morning brought the same conditions as Saturday, and I knew I had to get on the water. Armed with my boat this time, I paddled upstream until my muscles gave out. I sat and waited. When the Hex began to appear around 8 o'clock, I knew I was in for a good day. When the fish began to rise, I realized I was in for a really good day. I picked one fish out that sounded bigger than the rest, and worked him. After a solid half hour of casting over him, he took an emerger pattern that has done well for me in the past. After a short battle, I landed the brute, took some pictures, and let him go. Pictures to come soon, as yours truly stupidly left his camera at the cabin.
That was not the only big fish encounter of the weekend. I personally landed another that was around 21" and my client Larry landed the fattest 23" Brown Trout I have ever seen. Streamer fishing and daytime dry fly fishing was also very good in spots. With the high water on the Au Sable, the fish are really packing on the pounds.
Have a good time out there, and BE SAFE!
Showing posts with label Au Sable. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Au Sable. Show all posts
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Honey Hole
Truly, the honey hole is a fisherman's holy grail. One can never have enough of them, and those held under hat over time allow for a true understanding of the river and its ever-changing nature. For me, I have found several different holes on different rivers and streams that would fall into the "honey hole," category. One in particular, however, stands out in the forefront of my mind. A close-lipped secret between my dad, myself, and some very close friends, we cherish this particular spot because of the indelible memories made there.
The spot gained its lore before I even fished it. When my dad used to talk about it, his voice would lower and he would get what I would describe as a twinkle in his eye. He would also get very serious. I never knew why he did this when I was younger, but as I grew older I soon understood.
Numerous fish over 18" have come out of the hole. When I was younger, my dad would usually bag a big fish out of the hole, and then he always told me about the story which involved him, the hole, and landing three trout over 18" without moving more than five steps. I caught my first 20"+ brown out of this hole. Trout slurped Sulphurs by the clumps in this hole. I landed an enormous brown trout, longer than my 24" net, in this hole. I love this run. A heavy riffle used to give way to a long slick, in which monster fish would rise. Since I could wade up from the nearest public access, I spent the vast majority of my fishing time here.
Now, don't get me wrong, its definitely a sizable walk from the nearest access. After all, that is probably why the fishing was so good there and the fact that it was almost always open. Fortunately, the folks that lived nearby were not fisherman, and the fish there were relatively unpressured.
I watched this hole evolve practically since my flyfishing obsession started. At first, there was a huge log jam that had "stuck" itself to the the south bank of the run. Untold 18 + inch brown trout lived under the jam, natures version of a man-made "trout hotel." After the jam washed out during a high-water event, my dad and I assumed the fishing would drop off, but it only got better. I have seen numerous jams move in and out of the hole since my introduction to it.
One year, about three years ago, I noticed something very different about the hole. Where one of my favorite eddies and a good brook trout spot was once located, it was now slackwater. As I looked closer, I saw that massive man-made "trout hotels," were put in spots that had essentially channelized the river. As nearby property changed hands, I noticed more and more of the man-made structure in unfortunate spots. Where I used to wade on small pebbles, I now waded in foot-deep muck. The man-made structures have ruined my run.
By and large, these structures have vastly improved both the Au Sable and Manistee river systems. For the most part they are put in good areas that attract not just trout, but large trout. In this case, however, I wish I would have known about the changes that were to be made in the name of trout habitat.
I have not given up on my honey hole. I still spend a lot of time here, but unfortunately most of it is spent reminiscing about past times. Trout still live here, and I am sure that it will someday be restored to its former glory. I just hope that I'm sitting on the bank when it does...
The spot gained its lore before I even fished it. When my dad used to talk about it, his voice would lower and he would get what I would describe as a twinkle in his eye. He would also get very serious. I never knew why he did this when I was younger, but as I grew older I soon understood.
Numerous fish over 18" have come out of the hole. When I was younger, my dad would usually bag a big fish out of the hole, and then he always told me about the story which involved him, the hole, and landing three trout over 18" without moving more than five steps. I caught my first 20"+ brown out of this hole. Trout slurped Sulphurs by the clumps in this hole. I landed an enormous brown trout, longer than my 24" net, in this hole. I love this run. A heavy riffle used to give way to a long slick, in which monster fish would rise. Since I could wade up from the nearest public access, I spent the vast majority of my fishing time here.
Now, don't get me wrong, its definitely a sizable walk from the nearest access. After all, that is probably why the fishing was so good there and the fact that it was almost always open. Fortunately, the folks that lived nearby were not fisherman, and the fish there were relatively unpressured.
I watched this hole evolve practically since my flyfishing obsession started. At first, there was a huge log jam that had "stuck" itself to the the south bank of the run. Untold 18 + inch brown trout lived under the jam, natures version of a man-made "trout hotel." After the jam washed out during a high-water event, my dad and I assumed the fishing would drop off, but it only got better. I have seen numerous jams move in and out of the hole since my introduction to it.
One year, about three years ago, I noticed something very different about the hole. Where one of my favorite eddies and a good brook trout spot was once located, it was now slackwater. As I looked closer, I saw that massive man-made "trout hotels," were put in spots that had essentially channelized the river. As nearby property changed hands, I noticed more and more of the man-made structure in unfortunate spots. Where I used to wade on small pebbles, I now waded in foot-deep muck. The man-made structures have ruined my run.
By and large, these structures have vastly improved both the Au Sable and Manistee river systems. For the most part they are put in good areas that attract not just trout, but large trout. In this case, however, I wish I would have known about the changes that were to be made in the name of trout habitat.
I have not given up on my honey hole. I still spend a lot of time here, but unfortunately most of it is spent reminiscing about past times. Trout still live here, and I am sure that it will someday be restored to its former glory. I just hope that I'm sitting on the bank when it does...
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
My Favorite Bug
Although the Au Sable and surrounding river systems have a good number of prolific bug hatches, one in particular jumps to the forefront. The bugs scientific name is Isonychia bicolor, but it is more well known as an Iso, Big Mahogany, or a White-Gloved Howdy. I began to tie up my summer store of these bugs today, starting with comparaduns and eventually moving to a parachute style bug and finally a spinner imitation.
So, you may ask yourself, why is the Iso my favorite bug? The answer is simple: both the volume and longevity of this particular hatch puts it squarely at the top of my list. A true size 10 at the beginning of the hatch, it is best imitated by a size 12 later on as the fish wise up. Starting in mid-June these bugs appear before the famous nighttime Hex bugs on an almost daily basis. On heavy gravel stretches of both the Au Sable and Manistee, anglers can sometimes escape the Hex madness by chasing around these bugs instead. This hatch lasts well into July, and they make a reappearance in late August and early September (usually in smaller sizes). Oh, and big fish will rise to them. Really big fish. In fact, I personally seen my dad land 2 trout near 24 inches on Isonychia patterns, and I know firsthand of a 25 incher taken last year on one by my friend Ken Mers.
They are a swimming nymph, which means that they swim onto shore, shed their nymphal shuck, and hatch on shore. This process is much different than the typical mayfly, which undergo the same insect metamorphosis only in the water instead of on land. Taking this into consideration, many people wonder why I tie the Comparadun and the Parachute in the Iso colors, as both of these style flies represent the immediate post-hatching stages of an insects life. The simple reason I tie them is that they flat out work, in all sorts of conditions.
I could tell you about days on the water landing 6 trout over 17 inches, or 50 plus trout landed on a single Iso pattern, but I won't. Instead, I urge you to look outside the box, take others advice, but also formulate your own original ideas as to how to imitate any given insect. In the case of the Isonychia bicolor , it has paid dividends for me time and time again.
These fish are the last Au Sable trout I have eaten, some five and a half years ago. The Brown at the top was the smallest of four that night, and all of the fish were caught on Isonychia parachutes.
So, you may ask yourself, why is the Iso my favorite bug? The answer is simple: both the volume and longevity of this particular hatch puts it squarely at the top of my list. A true size 10 at the beginning of the hatch, it is best imitated by a size 12 later on as the fish wise up. Starting in mid-June these bugs appear before the famous nighttime Hex bugs on an almost daily basis. On heavy gravel stretches of both the Au Sable and Manistee, anglers can sometimes escape the Hex madness by chasing around these bugs instead. This hatch lasts well into July, and they make a reappearance in late August and early September (usually in smaller sizes). Oh, and big fish will rise to them. Really big fish. In fact, I personally seen my dad land 2 trout near 24 inches on Isonychia patterns, and I know firsthand of a 25 incher taken last year on one by my friend Ken Mers.
They are a swimming nymph, which means that they swim onto shore, shed their nymphal shuck, and hatch on shore. This process is much different than the typical mayfly, which undergo the same insect metamorphosis only in the water instead of on land. Taking this into consideration, many people wonder why I tie the Comparadun and the Parachute in the Iso colors, as both of these style flies represent the immediate post-hatching stages of an insects life. The simple reason I tie them is that they flat out work, in all sorts of conditions.
I could tell you about days on the water landing 6 trout over 17 inches, or 50 plus trout landed on a single Iso pattern, but I won't. Instead, I urge you to look outside the box, take others advice, but also formulate your own original ideas as to how to imitate any given insect. In the case of the Isonychia bicolor , it has paid dividends for me time and time again.
These fish are the last Au Sable trout I have eaten, some five and a half years ago. The Brown at the top was the smallest of four that night, and all of the fish were caught on Isonychia parachutes.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Take
What is it about the take of a big fish? It makes the heart go and keeps us coming back. Whether its the take of a big brown on top, a bobber dropping, or the subtle take of a walleye on hardwater, it is what we are after. There are thousands of methods of fishing out there, but they are but for one goal: the take
I am sure fisherman that read this know what I'm talking about. Each one of you probably remember a time and place where "the take" occurred for you. For me, it was a Redfish in the mangroves of Charlotte Harbor. I remember that particular fish because it was a tough cast, and, on the strip back to the boat, an enormous Redfish (or Red Drum) followed it for probably 20 ft. before striking it. This took place in less than 2 ft. of water, where I could see the whole event take place. Needless to say, I was pretty pumped up after landing that fish.
Take care everyone, may good fishing and "the take" come to you very soon.
I rolled this fish on 2 nights prior to the night I landed him. All 3 nights, the fish hammered my mouse like a freight train.
I am sure fisherman that read this know what I'm talking about. Each one of you probably remember a time and place where "the take" occurred for you. For me, it was a Redfish in the mangroves of Charlotte Harbor. I remember that particular fish because it was a tough cast, and, on the strip back to the boat, an enormous Redfish (or Red Drum) followed it for probably 20 ft. before striking it. This took place in less than 2 ft. of water, where I could see the whole event take place. Needless to say, I was pretty pumped up after landing that fish.
Take care everyone, may good fishing and "the take" come to you very soon.
I rolled this fish on 2 nights prior to the night I landed him. All 3 nights, the fish hammered my mouse like a freight train.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Bill Dancin'
When the winter chill sets in, the average fisherman looks ahead to the warmer weather with thoughts of dancing mayflies and rising trout. It is also a time for reflection, thinking about times on the river in the past, learning from them, and applying those lessons towards future experiences. Lately, I have been replaying some of the more memorable moments from the past year or so. In the coming weeks, I will periodically post a story from the past year that I think you may enjoy.
It was hot! I mean sticky hot. The kind of hot where your shirt, pants, and socks feel like they are glued to you. Larry was in the front of the boat as we cruised down the Au Sable waiting for the sun to set. We were after the big bugs, the condor-like Hexagenia limbata. When he caught another small trout, Larry said "I can't wait for it to get dark man." I replied slowly "we have to get where we wanna be first." I started paddling to our spot as night befell us.
On a hot day in mid to late June, there is almost certainly hex flies somewhere on either or both the Au Sable or Manistee river systems. In this case, a hot day had turned into a hot evening. As dusk came on quickly Larry and I arrived at the spot. We were slightly upstream of a bank that both him and I knew held some super trout. Dusk came and went, and I was beginning to second guess my decision to fish this stretch of river. Then, a slight humming could be heard in the distance. I thought that it was surely some of the masses of mosquitos that inhabit the swamps that surround the river. As the humming got closer (and louder), I soon realized that it was not humming I was hearing, but thousands upon thousands of hex flies performing a fatal flight called a "spinner fall." This is the end of their life. As they always do, small fish started feeding first, with the big fish starting slowly after. Gluttenly, big brown trout started slurping down the bugs all around us. As I moved into position, Larry turned on his light and was promptly swarmed by hex. When I saw this I laughed, because I knew we were in for a hell of a night.
Larry landed three fish legitimately over 20 inches that night, but one in particular stood out. To be frank, Larry is a good fisherman, and he showed it that night. After landing one beauty and pricking or hooking a few others, Larry and I heard a beast feeding on the other side of a log. In my head, I had a hunch that this trout had positioned himself in a back eddy and was picking off mayfly after mayfly. My plan of attack was to position the boat as close to the log as possible, and to have Larry "dap," the fish by holding his rod out and letting the line hang below the rod tip. As I moved the boat into position, I mentioned to Larry "better try to yank that thing over the log when you hook it," knowing in the back of my mind that such a proposition is easier said than done. Larry put his first cast on the fish. Nothing. Second cast, the fish loudly gulped his fly under and, as I sat watching, Larry yanked a 23" brown trout over the log that seperated where the trout formerly was and the boat. Breathing a sigh of relief as the fish exited the vicinity of the log jam, both of us were soon letting out a howl as I scooped the fish in the net.
As we left the river that night, both Larry and I knew that while each of us would (and did) see bigger fish later in the year, it would be hard to top the experience we had on that warm June night. That night will forever be known as the night that Larry "Bill Danced," a trout out of the woodwork.
It was hot! I mean sticky hot. The kind of hot where your shirt, pants, and socks feel like they are glued to you. Larry was in the front of the boat as we cruised down the Au Sable waiting for the sun to set. We were after the big bugs, the condor-like Hexagenia limbata. When he caught another small trout, Larry said "I can't wait for it to get dark man." I replied slowly "we have to get where we wanna be first." I started paddling to our spot as night befell us.
On a hot day in mid to late June, there is almost certainly hex flies somewhere on either or both the Au Sable or Manistee river systems. In this case, a hot day had turned into a hot evening. As dusk came on quickly Larry and I arrived at the spot. We were slightly upstream of a bank that both him and I knew held some super trout. Dusk came and went, and I was beginning to second guess my decision to fish this stretch of river. Then, a slight humming could be heard in the distance. I thought that it was surely some of the masses of mosquitos that inhabit the swamps that surround the river. As the humming got closer (and louder), I soon realized that it was not humming I was hearing, but thousands upon thousands of hex flies performing a fatal flight called a "spinner fall." This is the end of their life. As they always do, small fish started feeding first, with the big fish starting slowly after. Gluttenly, big brown trout started slurping down the bugs all around us. As I moved into position, Larry turned on his light and was promptly swarmed by hex. When I saw this I laughed, because I knew we were in for a hell of a night.
Larry landed three fish legitimately over 20 inches that night, but one in particular stood out. To be frank, Larry is a good fisherman, and he showed it that night. After landing one beauty and pricking or hooking a few others, Larry and I heard a beast feeding on the other side of a log. In my head, I had a hunch that this trout had positioned himself in a back eddy and was picking off mayfly after mayfly. My plan of attack was to position the boat as close to the log as possible, and to have Larry "dap," the fish by holding his rod out and letting the line hang below the rod tip. As I moved the boat into position, I mentioned to Larry "better try to yank that thing over the log when you hook it," knowing in the back of my mind that such a proposition is easier said than done. Larry put his first cast on the fish. Nothing. Second cast, the fish loudly gulped his fly under and, as I sat watching, Larry yanked a 23" brown trout over the log that seperated where the trout formerly was and the boat. Breathing a sigh of relief as the fish exited the vicinity of the log jam, both of us were soon letting out a howl as I scooped the fish in the net.
As we left the river that night, both Larry and I knew that while each of us would (and did) see bigger fish later in the year, it would be hard to top the experience we had on that warm June night. That night will forever be known as the night that Larry "Bill Danced," a trout out of the woodwork.
Friday, January 08, 2010
The Science of Bobbers, er, Indicators
Bobbers have been used by fisherman since, well, probably since the inception of the modern idea of fishing. Whether it is an in-depth top secret bobber rig for steelhead, or a simple worm and weight under a bobber for panfish, bobbers (or indicators, for those who shudder when they hear the term "bobber") are used across the entire spectrum of fishing. Pictured above is just a small sample of the floats, bobbers, or indicators one can buy on the market. Some are definitely better than others. In Michigan, fishing with a bobber has become the go to method in fishing for steelhead. In the past 15 years, the trend has gone from almost 100 percent "chuck & duck," fishermen to a majority of bobber fisherman that one will see during the fall, winter, and spring runs. Now, I will be the first to admit that not all the water on our rivers here can be fully covered by either method, but bobber fishing can greatly outshine the chuck & duck method at certain times. Bobber fishing allows the flies to float over structure that chuck & duck would get snagged up on. In addition to this indicator fishing can be very productive for trout on our rivers during the summer months. I can't tell you how many times, as a kid fishing the Au Sable, that well known guides would pass by me, see an indicator on the leader of my rod, and go "hmm... I never thought of that." Indicator fishing produced some really nice daytime trout for me, even as conventional wisdom led others to believe that 18 plus inch trout were strictly nocturnal.
As I stated earlier, some bobbers are better than others, and none of them can cover all the types of flyfishing one would encounter here in Michigan. For example, during the fall and early winter, I pretty much exclusively use thill ice n fly bobbers, which are in the picture to the left.
I love the way these bobbers float upright when paired with the correct amount of weight under them. In the dead of winter, I will use this bobber, but I usually elect to go with Drennan or Blackbird floats (pictured below). These plastic floats have incredible soft strike detection, and during the winter this is key because at this time steelhead with "mouth" and eject a fly very quickly. In the spring, I move to a bobber that has taken our sport by storm in the last 2 years. The Thingamabobber, while it has a long name, is an unbelievably low key bobber. During the spring run, when the fish are on gravel, a fisherman needs a bobber that won't spook the fish when overhead. This bobber is made of colored (or white) clear plastic that does not cast a shadow on the river bottom. Finally, during the summer months, I use either a small thill ice n fly bobber or a foam indicator (pictured above) for trout, because in general less weight is needed to get down for trout.
To summarize, the key to finding a good bobber, float, or indicator is to find one that you are comfortable with. Even though the most important element to a bobber is the way it floats, look at other components as well including adjustability and visibilty. Bobber fishing has really opened up a lot of formerly "unfishable" spots for me, and I am certain it will for you as well.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Fathers, Sons, and Flyfishing
Everyone needs a mentor, someone to look up to. In my case with flyfishing, that person was my dad, who got me fishing at the age of 2 and flyfishing at the age of 7. I will look fondly back at the many times that my dad took me out in the riverboat or wading when I was younger. Almost everytime we went a-fishing, I managed to lose at least a dozen of my dads freshly tied or boughten flies. However, he was patient and helped me reach the point where I now take him fishing, and I enjoy watching him hook up even more than myself.
As a father of a 13-month old, I can only hope to pass on the same qualities to my son. Maybe some day I can get him to take me fishing. The other day, I was talking to my dad about one of my favorite stories involving my first nighttime "hex fish". It was by no means a remarkably big fish, but to a 10-year old, a fourteen inch brown trout caught in the middle of the night was a pretty huge accomplishment. Everything from that trip is stuck in my brain, from the smell in the air to the feeling in my young muscles when helping my dad lift our 300 plus pound cedar planked Au Sable riverboat onto our winchless trailer. It was one of those nights when time truly stands still. As we paddled up to the honey hole, I remember my dad saying something about catching big fish here in times' past. After we dropped the chain anchor, we waited for what seemed like an eternity until we could hear the ever-increasing pitter patter of mayfly wings. Hex flies. The very bugs that put an extra hop, skip, or jump in any Michigan flyfishers step. As they descended slowly onto the rivers surface, small fish could be heard feeding in the distance. When the flies seemed to increase in volume on the rivers surface, so did the rises all around us. My dad told me to pick one fish to cast to. I decided upon one holding relatively tight to some wood, making big, splashy rises. Dad put me into position, and then the work began. After casting over the fish for 20 minutes or so (while missing several rises to my fly), dad told me to give him a rest, and he changed my fly for me. Even though he knew that this fish was nowhere near the biggest fish in this particular stretch of river, he knew how bad I wanted this fish. He knew that this fish meant a proper introduction to nightfishing for me. He was right.
After several more minutes, I managed to hook and land the fish. As we stared at the gasping fish in the bottom of the net, I decided to keep it and we tossed it in the bottom of the livewell. By the time we finished with the fish, most of the other feeding had ceased. Dad and I paddled out at this point. I can recall all the thoughts that were going through my mind on the way out. Thoughts concerning anything from excitement for my first nighttime brown trout, to melancholy over not being able to experience this feeling forever crossed my mind. As a young boy, I was uncertain about a lot of things, but there was one thing I was certain about; that I was hooked on nightfishing. And I could only thank my dad for introducing me to what became one of my passions for what has been going on 15 years, and hopefully many more.
My son's love affair with trout has already begun ;)
My dad, the sole person I can credit with my flyfishing obsession
As a father of a 13-month old, I can only hope to pass on the same qualities to my son. Maybe some day I can get him to take me fishing. The other day, I was talking to my dad about one of my favorite stories involving my first nighttime "hex fish". It was by no means a remarkably big fish, but to a 10-year old, a fourteen inch brown trout caught in the middle of the night was a pretty huge accomplishment. Everything from that trip is stuck in my brain, from the smell in the air to the feeling in my young muscles when helping my dad lift our 300 plus pound cedar planked Au Sable riverboat onto our winchless trailer. It was one of those nights when time truly stands still. As we paddled up to the honey hole, I remember my dad saying something about catching big fish here in times' past. After we dropped the chain anchor, we waited for what seemed like an eternity until we could hear the ever-increasing pitter patter of mayfly wings. Hex flies. The very bugs that put an extra hop, skip, or jump in any Michigan flyfishers step. As they descended slowly onto the rivers surface, small fish could be heard feeding in the distance. When the flies seemed to increase in volume on the rivers surface, so did the rises all around us. My dad told me to pick one fish to cast to. I decided upon one holding relatively tight to some wood, making big, splashy rises. Dad put me into position, and then the work began. After casting over the fish for 20 minutes or so (while missing several rises to my fly), dad told me to give him a rest, and he changed my fly for me. Even though he knew that this fish was nowhere near the biggest fish in this particular stretch of river, he knew how bad I wanted this fish. He knew that this fish meant a proper introduction to nightfishing for me. He was right.
After several more minutes, I managed to hook and land the fish. As we stared at the gasping fish in the bottom of the net, I decided to keep it and we tossed it in the bottom of the livewell. By the time we finished with the fish, most of the other feeding had ceased. Dad and I paddled out at this point. I can recall all the thoughts that were going through my mind on the way out. Thoughts concerning anything from excitement for my first nighttime brown trout, to melancholy over not being able to experience this feeling forever crossed my mind. As a young boy, I was uncertain about a lot of things, but there was one thing I was certain about; that I was hooked on nightfishing. And I could only thank my dad for introducing me to what became one of my passions for what has been going on 15 years, and hopefully many more.
My son's love affair with trout has already begun ;)
My dad, the sole person I can credit with my flyfishing obsession
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Phil's Dish on Fish - The Introduction
Hey Folks,
Welcome to my web site. This site has been a long time coming because I have been busy, well, fishing. This site is dedicated to helping beginning anglers delve deeper into the sport, for novice anglers to understand why learning how to fish is a never ending process, and for expert anglers to compare notes. I will also be posting guide specials as well as interesting stories and insight as to fishing and all its wonders.
In particular, the species I target and guide for include large predatory brown trout, steelhead, brook and rainbow trout. I also fish and run guide trips for salmon and walleye as well. In general, I love to fish, whether it be for walleye through the ice or brown trout on mouse flies in the middle of the night. I grew up spending a large part of the summer, including most of May, June, and August, at our family's cabin on a prime section of the famed Au Sable in Northern Michigan. I still spend most of my summer there, running guide trips and fishing for my own personal enjoyment. I learned to night fish on the Au Sable at the impressionable age 9 and was "hooked". I caught my first Hex trout at age 10, and my first 20-incher at age 12. During these years I also learned to steelhead and salmon fish with my uncle on the Pere Marquette, or "PM" as it is affectionately known among flyfishers. He taught me the ways of "chuck & duck," and I learned to indicator fish shortly thereafter.
Simply put, I love fishing and guiding, and this is why I put up this site. So, make yourself at ease, check out my recent reports and pictures, look at my "how to" pages, and contact me at phils.dish@gmail.com if you have any questions.
Thank You,
Phil Cook
Welcome to my web site. This site has been a long time coming because I have been busy, well, fishing. This site is dedicated to helping beginning anglers delve deeper into the sport, for novice anglers to understand why learning how to fish is a never ending process, and for expert anglers to compare notes. I will also be posting guide specials as well as interesting stories and insight as to fishing and all its wonders.
In particular, the species I target and guide for include large predatory brown trout, steelhead, brook and rainbow trout. I also fish and run guide trips for salmon and walleye as well. In general, I love to fish, whether it be for walleye through the ice or brown trout on mouse flies in the middle of the night. I grew up spending a large part of the summer, including most of May, June, and August, at our family's cabin on a prime section of the famed Au Sable in Northern Michigan. I still spend most of my summer there, running guide trips and fishing for my own personal enjoyment. I learned to night fish on the Au Sable at the impressionable age 9 and was "hooked". I caught my first Hex trout at age 10, and my first 20-incher at age 12. During these years I also learned to steelhead and salmon fish with my uncle on the Pere Marquette, or "PM" as it is affectionately known among flyfishers. He taught me the ways of "chuck & duck," and I learned to indicator fish shortly thereafter.
Simply put, I love fishing and guiding, and this is why I put up this site. So, make yourself at ease, check out my recent reports and pictures, look at my "how to" pages, and contact me at phils.dish@gmail.com if you have any questions.
Thank You,
Phil Cook
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