The Endearing Cutthroat

The next morning, we awoke from our slumber and struck out to the general store, located just down the street from our room. After picking up supplies and taking some pictures on the shoreline of Yellowstone Lake, we departed in the direction of the Yellowstone River in search of Cutthroat Trout.

Unfortunately, the river didn't fish well despite the presence of stone, caddis, and mayflies. Only later did we learn that the river is "dead." Lake Trout, first introduced into Yellowstone Lake in 1994, have had a severely negative impact on the fishery in the lake and river. The Lake Trout has caused the decimation of Cutthroat Trout in the lake, consequently causing a dramatic decline in the population of "cutties" in the river as well.

Ken, however, saved the day on the Yellowstone for us. He landed a HUGE cutt, probably in the area of 22". It was a truly great fish and moment, and one of the highlights of our trip.

In the afternoon, we made our way up to a well-known river about an hour away. When we arrived the skies looked gloomy but the river looked great. We put in and immediately began catching fish. Soon, however, rain began to fall, the river turned cloudy, and the fishing shut down. Little did I know how well this river would treat me the next day.

That night we had a good dinner and went to the room. Ken and Dane wanted to hike up a different stream, whereas I elected to limit my walking by fishing areas closer to the road (and thus, the car).

After dropping them off, I drove to the river we had fished the previous day. As it did the day before, the water looked beautifully clear, with a tint of green to it. As it was the day before, the fishing started off great. This time it got better. Starting around noon, I had tallied close to 20 trout by 3 o'clock. Shortly thereafter, I lost my fish count completely. It was truly an awesome day. My time there ended with a bang, catching four cutties and cutt/bow hybrids between 17 and 21 inches long.

It was about 7 o'clock when I left the stream, just about prime time for most. But with a sore arm from casting and fighting trout all day, I felt absolutely fulfilled and left to meet Ken and Dane who were just getting down the trail. After a solid dinner and some banter, we found a campsite. They also had a good time, catching many fish. In planning the next day's adventure, Dane, Ken, and I elected to go back as a trifecta to the stream they had just fished. We would not be disappointed.


Cutthroat


Rainbow


Brown


Little river looking upstream


Bison were all over the place

Throw a little ALLSPICE in there

Had a great month of July folks, with a few days on the Au Sable yielding small but numerous fish and more days out west yielding large and plentiful brown, rainbow, and cutthroat trout. So it goes for this time of the year when the big fish bite has shifted from daytime to nighttime and early morning here in Michigan. I like to think that going out west makes it easier to keep our rods bent with good fish all the way through the summer.

In the next few installments of the blog, I will outline our western trip, which consisted of approximately 8 total fishing days and two days of driving. Foregoing the names and stretches of rivers, I will tell you that we we split our time between waters in and around Lander, Wyoming and Yellowstone National Park for the duration of the trip.

After a 24 hour drive, you could say we were a little "stir crazy," to go fishing. So when we arrived in Lander, Wyoming we located the nearest "fishing licenses sold here" sign and practically dove in the front door to procure the proper documents. Not surprisingly, the shop wasn't exactly catering to fishermen, judging by the number of shotguns, rifles, pistols, and assault rifles that lined the walls. These guys were out for bigger game than a 20-inch trout.

After a little conversation, we took off to fish a well known canyon that holds both rainbow and brown trout, some of them very large. When we arrived, I found the water high. After a single cast and a fish caught, things were definitely looking up. Heavy water and giant boulders were the two keywords for the day however, and, though we caught fish, we were in rough shape from the tough wade and the long drive and we elected to push further towards another well-known canyon on a different river.

Making camp that night on the river, both Dane and I hooked large brown trout. Things were definitely looking up for the next day of fishing. Later that night, my good friend Allshouse pulled in and awakened me from my slumber. Thoughts of a big river and big trout filled my head as I drifted back to sleep.

The next day, I awoke at about dawn, and slowly stumbled down to the river. Much to my chagrin, big trout were rising everywhere. Scratch that. These were not just big trout. These were the biggest average trout I had ever seen rising in a consistent pattern. Unfortunately, none of the crew could put a hook into them and we decided to head downstream.

At the first stop, Dane landed two beautiful rainbows, Ken lost a beauty, and I lost two trout that put my "poop in a group." One fish made and indelible impression on me. When it rose to my stimulator, it literally resembled a salmon rising to a dry fly. It was easily 27 or 28 inches long. I have had dreams about this moment for a long time.

By the end of the day, we had hooked somewhere in the area of 25 fish, consisting of a mix of rainbows, cutthroats, and brown trout. None of the fish hooked were under 18 inches long! This fishery is now known by yours truly as "big fish canyon." We will be going back next year, when the cicadas are hatching ;). Fishing with an old buddy was as good (or better) than I remember, and I look forward to doing it again soon.

That night we departed for Yellowstone National Park. After a long day of trophy trout fishing, we were in a daze when we pulled into Yellowstone. After a mix up with our sleeping arrangements, we ended up hitting the hay around 2 o'clock. We would be up and ready the next morning, on the hunt for Cutthroat trout in America's first National Park.


Guess the trout...


Little river from our 2nd leg in Lander


19" rainbow from "big fish canyon"


Allshouse with a cutthroat


Check out that canyon...

The Last Hurrah

Don't have much time folks but I'll try to fill you all as to what is going on.

The hex hatch is pretty much done. I am going out tonight for a "reconissance" mission, will report back in a couple of days.

Below are some notable trout. We landed somewhere in the area of 20 trout over 18 inches in June, not the best I've done but it could have been worse. 5 of those fish came on the same night, when my dad and I were fishing. Extremely high water made for moving feeders, and in turn this made for tough fishing.

Here are the pics:


My dad with a 23" beauty. That night we landed 2 others over 22" and 5 total over 18". Of course, my camera died after this shot...


25" Brown trout described in my last post.


22" daytime dry fly trout


Close up

Brown Trout of a lifetime

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!

Chrome Dome

Got out for some fishing/guiding with a friend from Wyoming yesterday. It was some of the best steelheading I ever had. The fishing was plain out of sight. Unfortunately, I spent the whole day with a lingering sickness that started Wednesday night. However, hooking fish after fish after fish will keep your spirits up pretty well I'd say.

Matt had never flyfished for steelhead before, and he still managed to bag 3 steelhead, 1 huge walleye, a few trout, and some "bugle trout" (a.k.a. suckers). After some instruction, Matt got the hang of it and we finished the day strong with each of us hooking a lot of fish.

Sorry about the short report, I am still feeling rather sick and I think some sleep is in order...


Chrome hen from a hole


Matt with another big hen


Myself with a good hen


A salmon head. Dead salmon provide a lot of extra nutrients for the river and the organisms that thrive in and around it.


Matt's handsome buck


Matt's 8 lb + walleye


Nice brownie


One of Matt's "bugle trout." Look how happy he was to catch it haha


Catch and Release

These fish are only a sampling of what was caught during the day. Above all, I got to spend time with a friend that I hadn't seen in a long, long time. Thank goodness for good friends and great times!

Small Streams, Big Fish

Most every diehard fly angler has an opinion about creeking. Some love it, others hate it, and some of you out there may say, "what the heck is creeking?" Personally, I consider creeking as fishing in a stream that flows at less than 100 cubic feet per second. In Michigan, it is most common across the northern lower and upper peninsulas for brook trout. In these environments, the further one walks from the access is directly proportional to how many fish one will have a chance of catching. Some small streams harbor brown or rainbow trout or other gamefish, and some hold steelhead.

Fishing a small stream can be frustrating. At times devoid of fish, and at times loaded with them. Figuring out the timing in these streams can be a daunting task. One day you think will be perfect turns out to be a bust. A day starting with low expectations ends with double digit hookups on steelhead. You just never know how the fishing will be, and this is the beauty of creeking.

Productive fishing in small streams requires stealth and adaptability, in that order. Stealth is required to stalk the fish in the shallower rivers, and good adaptability allows the fisherman to fish every spot properly. On any given creeking river, I will employ 3 tactics so as to fish every spot. The first is my go-to method, the bobber. The second my old go-to method, chuck and duck (except with split shot, not a sliding weight). The third is a method I learned from a regular on a river I used to fish. It involved, in his case, a large pyramid sinker and spawn. He would basically "glue" this rig to the bottom, and then wait for a steelhead to bite. It was very effective. I adopted his rig, and scaled it down for fly fishing. It too has turned out to be very effective.

Learning these methods is essential to creeking. Hiring a knowledgeable guide can help tremendously. More just a fish locater, a good guide can give a client knowledge they will employ for the rest of their fishing life. The ability to read water is a perfect example of also a quality a good guide will give you. Below you will find pictures and descriptions of 3 types of water one will find on any given great lakes stream. They are nowhere near all of the types of water a fisherman will encounter. But all of them, at certain points of the year, will hold fish.

THE SLIDE

This type of run is a "pinch point," explained as a point in the river that concentrates fish during heavy runs. Spots like this produce on both big and small rivers alike. In small streams however, they are very important.

POCKET WATER

This type of water holds fish before, during, and after the spawn. When you see long faces around shallow gravel, look to the pockets for fish

SLOW POOLS

Great winter time holding water. Take a long slow pool and dissect it piece by piece until you hookup or cover the hole. If you do hookup, let the hole rest and then fish it again...

These 3 types of water can hold fish both individually or consecutively during a run. Learning where steelhead are located and the techniques used to catch them will greatly enhance your time spent on the water. There is nothing like leaving the stream with a smile on your face.

40 Degree Weather

A 40 degree day is like gold to a winter Steelhead fisherman. On these days, fish are summoned from their sulked winter mode and begin moving towards pockets and pools around gravel. While people fishing deep holes can get blanked, fisherman hitting "secondary" spots will often hook fish.

Today was just such a day. Starting off at my favorite pool, I fished for nearly an hour without hooking a fish. I moved upstream to the next pool, only to leave again with the same results. In between spots, I noticed a small pool at the top of a fast run. I stripped out line, and on the second drift through, I hooked and landed a beautiful 6-pound buck (who turned out to be a little camera shy ;). The pattern of hooking up in pocket water continued throughout the next 4 hours of fishing. All of the trout and Steelhead hooked today were holding in less than 5 feet of water.

The day before was much more uneventful, with a couple Steelhead hooked and lost. I did, however, land a very nice Brown Trout which is pictured below. The fish that were lost were hooked on 4 lb test floro, and let me tell you, trying to land a chromer on 4 lb is challenging. Sometimes it seems like the difference between 6 lb test and 4 lb test is like night and day.

In fishing this weekend, I realized that all the rivers on the West side really need more water. Either a big snowmelt or a rain is needed to "shuffle the deck," and bring newer fish into the river systems...


29" hen caught on an egg. Great battle...


19" Brown Trout

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...

Pressured Water

The Pere Marquette is a beauty of a river. A piece of water with countless tributaries, it also provides constant steelhead fishing during the wintertime, primarily because of its spring fed properties and the amount of regulation on the "flies only, catch and release" section of the river. These two items allow for a perfect mash up, where spring fed water decreases anchor ice, and strict regs keep fish in the river and off the grill. It gets fished a lot. Its been said that the fish here are Phd's in egg flies, nymphs, and streamers, having seen them all in the past couple of months. In fact, they have probably seen just about every variation of these bugs imaginable. In this type of situation, changing up your presentation can pay big rewards, and Saturday proved that big time.

As Kyle and I gloomily made our way through the hole we were fishing the third time through, my drift was approaching its end. As my bobber and fly began to swing in the current, a hard strike jolted me out of zombieland. A quick fight ensued, and soon ended after the fish managed to break me off while going in full bore towards some wood. Still, I began to figure out that it was going to take some out-of-the-box thinking to produce on that day.

Fishing for 45 minutes more, Kyle lands a really nice brown out of a very odd spot in the hole we were fishing. As I moved back to the top of the run, I thought in the back of my head that this will be the last time through. It was getting rather dark after all, and I definitely didn't feel like being there as night befell us. Plus, the fishing had seemed to drop off anyway. So, I decided to go against conventional wisdom and threw a large weighted streamer under the bobber. In the clear, pressured water, I thought that throwing a piece of meat might jolt them awake. A few drifts later with the streamer produced the fish pictured at the bottom of this entry. All together, we went 1 for 2 on steel with one awesome brown trout thrown in in about 4 hours of fishing. Another killer day on a memorable river.

Cabin Fever

Everyone knows what it is. At different times for different people cabin fever sets in at some point during the winter. For me, it comes very soon after the cold sets in. The only thing that lets me keep my sanity is looking forward to those breaks in the weather, and each person has their temperature threshold. For some, if the temperature isn't 45 degrees or better they won't go fishing. Others choose to place their cutoff at the freezing barrier, where rod guides start to freeze and make life difficult. For me, 15 degrees is too chilly for sure, if its 20 I may go ice fishing, and in anything over 28 (and sunny) and I will go steelheading.

Looking for the days when the weather pans out is key during the wintertime. People place importance on different elements in the forecast. For me the two most important things to take into account are temperature and barometric pressure. If the instruments measure both of these to be in my favor, I will go fishing.

There is something different about the pull of a steelhead or trout during the wintertime. Something about winter solitude, and braving the elements that makes a fish in the net worth its weight in gold. Kind of reminds me of a day on a river north of here, when my buddy Nick and I were the only souls on the river that day. We carefully walked out onto a piece of shelf ice at a good spot and managed to hook into a steelhead and land two nice browns. It seems that when shelf ice is around the steelhead definitely know how to use it to their advantage. Anyway, here are some pictures from that day to get you through until your next break in the weather...

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.

Great Day

Today is a great day for tying flies. A balmy 8 degrees outside, its nice to see the pile of Sulphur Comparaduns growing slowly. This has been a great winter for fishing, but not such a great one for wrapping bugs. Oh well. Time spent in neoprene definitely trumps sitting at the desk anyway. I have started preparing the early summer arsenal with the usual array of flies. Hendricksons, Black Caddis, Sulphurs, Little Mahoganies, the list goes on and on. And thats not even counting the big four hatches of June.

Below, you will see a Sulphur Comparadun. It has a white microfibbet tail, cream dubbing, and a coastal deer hair. This is a great pattern from mid-May to mid-June. I have caught some large trout on Sulphurs, and my fair share have come on this exact pattern.

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.

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.

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.