A Fish Tale for the New Year

When it is 5 degrees F outside, you need something to give hope and that will allow you to think about life after the next propane bill. So a fish tale. It is about the biggest trout I never saw.

I was new to Michigan, and a fellow grad student invited a bunch of us up north to his parent's cabin for a weekend in late July. We had a good time, at least they say we did. I had gotten back in to fly fishing, and was the proud owner of an LL Bean rod from the outlet store, and a Pflueger medalist. Six weight. My friend Ron S. and I got the idea that really big streamers at night would be a cool idea. The kind you use on Tarpon. We figured we would catch nothing, or one very big fish.

Took a break from the cabin debauchery (the usual stuff: beer and naked girls in a lake) and went out on a Saturday night. To our surprise, we started catching some 12 to 15 inch fish on a fairly regular basis. I was using a 1/0 platinum blonde (popularized by Joe Brooks) and shortly after dark had a massive strike that resulted in a 21 inch brown. I had no idea at that time that it would my biggest trout for some years, and this on my third trout outing ever as an adult (I had fished for trout as a kid, but not for years). This was so cool we decided to stay an extra night and fish again. Beginners luck, and beginner's stupidity.

South Branch of the Ausable. It was getting dark- too light for the streamer but I tied it on anyway. I came to a long pool that had a couple of risers, and decided to fish. I flipped the streamer out and gave a couple of strips. All hell broke loose. There was a sharp strike that literally ripped the line off the water as it came taught. Now, mind you I have caught my share of big fish, but I never heard anything like that sound, before or since. It sounded like a sheet being torn in half. The fish gave a few lunges toward the bottom, and then simply decided to head downstream. It was more like a bonefish run, and since the medalist did not have a counterweight it was shuddering in my hand as the spool rotated. Actually kind of cool but at that point I was scared to death of what was on the other end of that line.

The fish ran down to big pool that bent to the left. Not into the backing, but just a few turns of fly line left. I was sure it would take the turn and that would be the end of things, but it simply stopped. We played tug of war for what seemed like hours, but it was probably a minute. And then the line went slack. I was devastated, but vowed to reel in and keep fishing. As I reeled, it got strange. I could not tighten the line. It became clear that the fish was still on, but was headed back toward me. The line came tight about the time it drew even with me, and I thought for a stupid second that I had it beaten. It just kept going and there was no stopping it. It simply veered to the opposite bank and stitched the leader and about 10 feet of line through a logjam. I waded over and tried to reach down and free things, but at that point it was dark and I had become rather reluctant to put my hands close to whatever it was. The fight ended when I retrieved the broken tippet, but only after fighting a log for 15 minutes. And did I mention that I was doing all this on a 5x tippet? I thought you needed light tippets for trout or they would see the leader and not strike. Complete dumbness combined with inexperience.

What species? Only browns get that large in that river system, but a few folks have insisted that I hooked a giant northern pike. I object to the pike theory- the habitat was all wrong and it was so close to dark that I argue that all respectable pike (a diurnal species) had stopped feeding. And if pike were in that part of the river I would have heard of at least one person catching one once in a while. Never heard of any pike on the South Branch. And no, ye of little faith, it was not a beaver. It was light enough to see any damned beavers were they present.

I think it was a brown, and based on my experience since that time, it was easily 25 inches in length and likely bigger. It was the feeling you get when you hook a respectable Chinook salmon. Come to think of it, it has been far, far too long since the big streamers were let out at night for walk. Definitely an agenda item for this year.

Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war. Now, all trout get released, but night fishing with these things is a battle. You do little short casts until there is a sound like a dog falling in the water and the rod is wrenched from your hands. Strange things happen, like a monster fish throwing the hook and then making a torpedo run right between your knees. I don't know who was more surprised, but I was the one who ended up sitting on my ass.