I read Brian Pitser’s article in the November Newsletter from The Northern Angler and loved it. So I thought you may too, so I have provided it below. Enjoy!
The Northern Angler is a fly shop located in Traverse City, Michigan that I have visited many times. Brian is the owner and head guide. He is the one on the right in the above photo.
-Paul
“Taking a sip of hot coffee, I drop the anchor as the boat softly swings into the first run of the day. The sun is not quite up yet and there is a bite to the morning breeze. Not a fan of the early sign of wind, but at least it is not from the east. A group of six ducks circle and drop into the back of a slough. The eagles will soon leave their evening roost and majestically fly over, signaling a time when the fish really start to wake up. Hopefully, today my clients will have a chance to feel the electric jolt and power of some great lakes chrome. There is nervous excitement and the anticipation of the day seems to vibrate through the boat, I sense the water below as I drop the oars in and get my clients set up to fish. The water has a heavier feel to it than a month ago and it has slowly changed color from a light green to more of a steel grey. This is somewhere in the range of 40 some days straight on the water guiding and my nerves are a bit raw, but I’m not as frazzled as I should be for this time of the season. The beauty and opportunity of being on the water every day is observing all the wonderful changes of the autumn season. Guiding through an entire season is magical, exhausting, frustrating and exhilarating all at the same time and somehow the process recharges my soul. Maybe it is the dawn of each new day shining it’s light on something special and the hope of a fall steelhead.
We knocked the cobwebs off in the first couple of runs without finding a player. Caught up on what is happening with family and kids, discussed the state of fall run and what has been happening with the migratory fish, of course covid concerns and it is an election year so some political comments on that subject seem to be made. Conversation of trips planned for winter and spring to warmer destinations, other boat talk keeps the day moving forward as we drop down the river. The groove of the day has been set in motion and oftentimes I feel like a baseball manager trying to keep our team focused, on point and in position to score a homerun. At times it can be difficult to keep a client focused and spirits up until we connect with a fish.
It has been a largely inconsistent fall with some really great days for fish numbers followed by an incredibly tough bite for a few days. Always hoping the next run will hold the treasure that we seek. Keep grinding away and focus on the process, change colors, flies, re-tie another rig and get after it. Rowing to the next run, knowing it should hold a fish and where, visualizing the bottom in three dimensions. I imagine what the bottom of this run would have looked like before they logged the river and imagine what this would have looked like with towering white pines and cedars. A time before steelhead and salmon moved throughout this river system, when life as a logger working the timber was so much more hard earned than we could ever imagine in these modern times. I wonder if the hearty souls that worked the forests and floated logs down could ever dream of anglers from all over the country rhythmically plying this very river in a boat with a fly in hope of catching a fish only to give thanks and release it back into the steel grey water.
There is a sudden shift in the energy within the boat and a dime bright fish launches itself into a twisting somersault in mid-air. The drag screams from the reel and it is now game on! The fish is electric and I see the silver flash and twist below the surface. It is super hot and heading toward a log jam. We have little control over this beast and the angler moves the rod down low to the left and the fish changes direction at the last second. The chrome buck sees the boat and net and makes another short run before he gives us his head and we slide it into the net. Taxed and embarrassed the fish portrays it’s anger as we snap a photo and slide him back to the net to let him rest before the release. I reach into the cold water and feel the solidness of his body and thank him for coming out to play today. We marvel at the slight crimson on his cheeks and faint red line on his flank as he swims out of my hand. Hope manifested with this fish provides us with renewed energy to press onward. A feeling of life’s little victories we collectively take in the beauty of nature and the opportunity to spend the day outside, away from the office and the humdrum of a daily routine. Thankful for the opportunity the river provides we move on in search of more treasure.”
Written by Brian Pitser
