You can see an indexed list of other articles on the Indigo Guide Service, Articles & Videos Page.

Midwest Sporting Journal

Michigan Salmon Fishing Article

This article appeared in the Midwest Sporting Journal on October 20th, 2009 by Brandon Butler from Driftwood Outdoors.  You can find a link to photographer Bill Konway’s site here.

Pluck your favorite fishing pole from its resting place, tie on a lure, and head out to your driveway. Convince someone to get behind the wheel of your automobile and back it into the street. Go around to the back bumper, and hook your lure to the vehicle. Have the driver slam the gas, while you try to fight the car like a fish. Trying to land your automobile is what it’s like to fight a “king” in a river.

Chinook Salmon, referred to as king salmon because of their size, are the largest species of Pacific salmon. They were introduced to the Great Lakes in 1967 by the  Michigan Department of Natural Resources to help control the exploding population of alewifes-an invasive herring species found throughout the Great Lakes.

Salmon are anadromous fish by nature, meaning they are a migrating fish. Born in rivers or streams, king salmon migrate to the ocean, or in this case the Great Lakes, where they remain until reaching maturity, which is usually three to four years old. Salmon then generally return to the stream of their birth to spawn. They normally ascend rivers from the end of August through October. After spawning, having completed their lifecycle, salmon expire.

I recently returned from a trip for king salmon on one of West Michigan’s famed rivers. I fished with expert guide Capt. Kevin Morlock of Indigo Guide Service for three days, and am now a salmon fanatic. It’s hard for me to accept the fact that I have wasted a couple decades of my fishing life without having chased these brutes before.

Fly fishing is my forte, but this outing called for traditional bait casting equipment. The salmon were holding deep in the darkest pools of the river awaiting a surge of rushing water from a rainfall to trigger their forward migration. Salmon are not fans of bright sunny days, especially when the water is real clear. Don’t cancel a river salmon trip on account of bad weather.

Kevin and spent our days fishing from his boat, but the river was lined with fishermen finding success from the shore. While we were casting lures, fishing spawn sacks seemed to be the most popular method. As far tactics are concerned, your best bet is to find a hole a continue to work it while fish migrate through. With patience, and a little luck, you’ll strike a fish and experience a fight like nothing you’ve felt in the Midwest before.

There are some serious ethical issues surrounding salmon fishing in Great Lakes tributaries. Poachers are way too common. Salmon have qualities that cause some anglers to stray to the dark-side. Salmon are large and easy to spot, especially when congregating in large numbers. During their migration, they can be tight lipped. Watching these big fish swim by, blatantly ignoring your offering, can be too much for some to handle. Out of frustration, some decide to resort to snagging. Your goal should be to catch fish, not to poach fish. Snagging, which is illegal, eliminates the sporting aspect of salmon fishing.

If you do happen to experience the good fortune of catching a salmon or two or twenty, you don’t have to keep them all. Keep one or two for the dinner table if you like, but remember these fish have yet to complete their spawning cycle. There are state hatcheries planting fish, but natural regeneration is a beautiful thing. Let a few go, knowing you’ve done your part to ensure the future of salmon fishing.

If you love to fish, and you’ve spent your life living with a few hundred miles of the these Great Lakes salmon without ever experiencing the thrill of hooking into one of these monsters, you owe it to yourself to get up north. Your best bet for success is going to be hiring a guide on your first trip, but if you have the time and patience you can do it on your own. If you do decide to go the guide route, the team at Indigo Guide Service (www.indigoguideservice.com) will treat you right.Mi

The article "A bowfin for the books… The 30 inch bofin/dogfish is a world record" by Brandon Butler (Driftwood Outdoors) appeared in Woods-N-Water News in October 2009.  You can view the article on the Woods-N-Water News site here.

A bowfin for the books… The 30 inch bowfin/dogfish is a world record

Reaching a point of satisfaction when in pursuit of spawning steelhead is an anomaly. You don’t really want to leave the stream, but every part of your body says it’s time. Cold feet, a sore forearm and the knot on the back of your head from a chuck without the duck, are just a few of the many possible physical strains of a day spent battling silver explosives. One day last spring, I was experiencing my share of discomfort, but had no intention to pull off the river before sunset.

Standing mid-stream with a look of delirium in my eyes, my guide, Kevin Morlock, broke my trance, when he asked if I’d had enough. Snapped back to the world of reality, I politely but assuredly said "no." Like a greedy Wall Street banker dissatisfied with only 15 million, I wanted more. I’d lost track of the number of steelies hooked and landed that day, but who was counting anyways.

As a fulltime guide, Kevin has had to learn to deal with obsession. Guides with any number of days under their belt are familiar with the psychological effects fishing can have on a client. So like a doctor promising a sucker at the end of the visit if you don’t cry while getting your shot, Kevin coaxed me from the frigid river with the promise of rounding out the day on Pere Marquette Lake stripping streamers for northern pike.

With a few hours of sunlight remaining, we launched from Sutton’s Landing. Michigan is home to so many species of fish; it’s hard to say what you might stumble upon any given day. Our intentions for this trip were to try and boat northerns and possibly smallmouth on fly rods in open water. If we happened across a stray steelhead, salmon or brown trout, all the better. What we never expected though, was to catch a new world record bowfin, or dogfish.

Kevin, my wife Melissa, and I were taking turns casting along the rocky shore just east of the gigantic car ferry, the S.S. Badger. Bank fishermen were scattered about, sitting bundled in layers of clothing. Their motionless bobbers and stagnant tight-lines sat idle. The obvious contentment of these sportsmen to stare at the water as opposed to a television is a great testimony to the resolve of northern outdoorsmen. Southern bass fishermen should be forced at some point of their life to spend a few days of patience apprenticeship by northern ice fishers. Clarity can be found in long stretches of monotonous angling.

In the shadow of the enormous S.S. Badger, we were completely striking out. Across the lake, reeds extend out into shallow water forming numerous little coves. Kevin motored us over there, in part to get out of the wind, and in part to search for fish along a break dropping off a reed covered flat. First, he asked if we wanted to rest and have a snack with some hot coffee. Melissa and I said yes, so we pulled deep into one of the coves, and anchored in only a couple of feet of water. With coffee brewing in a peculator and sweet rolls on the grill, the three of us kicked back to relax.

As I stared at a log lying on the bottom mere feet from the bow of the boat, I took a double-take when its fin began to flicker.

"Look at that fish," I said. Pointing to the prehistoric, aquatic monster.

"Oh, man." Kevin said. "That’s a huge dogfish."

I removed my chartreuse and white Clouser minnow from the hook keeper, just above the handle of my fly rod. With only 8 feet or so of line, I jigged the streamer in front of the fish. No response. I then lifted the Clouser over the top of the fish, and proceeded to bounce the weighted fly on the fish’s head. It stirred.

"He’s ready," Kevin said.

I moved the fly in front of the fish’s mouth, and it disappeared. I gave a strong hook set. Then the water erupted. Bowfin can fight, and a fish of this size can fight well. I struggled with the monster for a few minutes. It took a few runs, before eventually it glided into the net.

I hoisted the fish out and quickly recognized it to be the largest dogfish I had ever seen. It had been years since I had caught one, and none I had ever landed looked like this monster. Its fish was old and tattered looking. A hue of red mixed with yellowish-green created a unique fin color. The fish’s teeth resembled the mouth of a miniature shark, and its body a python. I was in awe of the magnificent specimen’s repulsive beauty.

Kevin asked me what I wanted to do with the fish. I never considered any option other than returning it to the water. We took a measurement-a hair over 30 inches. Kevin said that he had no idea what size bowfin would qualify for Michigan fish of the year program, but this one would have to be close. We took some pictures and slid the dinosaur back into the abyss.

The Michigan fish of the year size qualifications for bowfin are 27 inches or 7 pounds. Mine easily made it, which promoted me to explore the world record bowfin. The all tackle world record bowfin, registered in the Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is 21 pounds 8 ounces, caught by Robert L. Harmon Forest Lake, South Carolina on January 29, 1980. The thing about world records though, is that there are numerous classes. I researched the fly fishing, catch and release class, and realized I possibly had world record.

My bowfin is now the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame, catch and release, fly fishing, 20 pound tippet class world record. It sounds funny to me, too. I know it’s not the true "world record," but it was a hell of a fish, and no one else has ever registered a larger one caught in the same method of mine. So I’m pleased to have the accomplishment recorded, and I’m pleased to be associated with the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame.

When I was a kid, I stood in the mouth of the muskie. For those who don’t know what I’m speaking of, part of the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is a large museum built like a muskie. At the top of the seven stories tall structure is an observation deck in the muskie’s mouth. I was taken to the museum 20 years ago by one of the greatest men I’ve ever known, my grandfather. Logging my fish with the Hall, plays upon that memory.

During my youth, I often accompanied my grandparents on fishing trips. We regularly visited Lake Shore Resort in Osakis, Minnesota. Grandma and grandpa, and their old-timer friends would sit on the resort pier late at night filling baskets with crappie. Every once in awhile, one of them would catch a dogfish. They would tell me to take the fish to the shore, cut it open and throw it in the fish cleaning house. I never had the heart for it, though. I always took the fish to the other side of the resort and returned them to the water. I understand the damage bowfin supposedly cause to game fish populations, but even at a young age, I knew they were just trying to survive. I like to think I’ve been rewarded.

The Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is the international headquarters for education, recognition and promotion of fresh water sportfishing. Our mission is to develop and maintain the Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame and its museum for the preservation and display of historical artifacts of fresh water sportfishing. We strive to conduct and maintain a program for the recognition of persons, organizations and institutions that have made significant and lasting contributions to the sport and heritage of fresh water fishing.  (Taken from the Hall’s website www.freshwater-fishing.org)

Brandon Butler is busy maintaining his new blog Midwest Sporting Journal. Check it out at www.midwestsportingjournal.com

The article "Carp Of Beaver Island… Champagne dreams on a beer budget!" by Brandon Butler (Driftwood Outdoors) appeared in the Woods-N-Water News in July 2009.  You can view the article on the Woods-N-Water News web site here.

 

Carp Of Beaver Island… Champagne dreams on a beer budget!

Settling into my seat on the Emerald Isle, anticipation gave way to acceptance. Month after month had been crossed off my calendar as I awaited the arrival of this 4th of July expedition. In the back of my mind, I slightly questioned driving over 500 miles to fly fish for carp; the same rough fish that swim a stone’s throw from home. But I had been guaranteed by a fisherman I trust too well, that this experience would be one I would never forget. So as the ship’s engines began to rumble I took heart, yearning for the unknown.

As the two-hour, thirty-two mile ferry ride closed in on the tiny town of St. James, I realized all I knew about Great Lake Islands would not summarize this place. Beaver Island’s weathered old lighthouse greets travelers much like a great-grandparent too feeble to rise from his rocking chair, but happy to see you nonetheless. The harbor moors only a handful of boats and the pier at the marina looks as if Roosevelt commissioned the Civilian Conservation Corps to modernize the Island.

Kevin Morlock is a well known salmon and steelhead guide on the rivers of western Michigan. Kevin and I have fished together numerous times, and I have come to respect his wealth of knowledge, but when he told me he was designing a flats fishing boat to target carp around the islands of Michigan’s archipelago, I thought maybe he’d finally spent one two many days in the sun.

Keeping within the boundaries of simplicity I had elected to leave my tent at home in favor of a hammock. Hung between two trees where the wind would rock me to a serenade of waves. My weary fisherman’s body rested well at the end of a hard day’s night.

Carp fishing improves as the day grows warmer. There’s no reason to get up early, leaving plenty of time to lounge about sipping morning coffee. Making for a great start to a relaxing day.

With the sun high in the bluebird sky, Kevin and I launched his boat; a brand new, 17 ft. deep-v, with a 40 horse. The real kicker though, is the rear mounted platform and the twenty foot push pole. Like most of us who harbor champagne dreams on a beer budget, I have longed for the Caribbean since reading my first flats article, but have never come close to saving enough money to go. Diapers and milk, you know. So the idea of a steelheading maestro, perched atop a platform, pushing me around in search of tailing carp in the northern most reaches of America, was somewhat of an obscure realization of a dream come true.

We took off from the eastern shore of the island and headed for the southern tip. We wanted to go where the waves would push into small bays. The water temperature reading on the main lake was in the low sixties; a bit too cold for aggressive carp. Kevin knew the water would be warmer in the south bays, causing pods of carp to gather in the shallow water. I never anticipated this trip would change my perception of a species I knew so little about, but as we spotted carp after carp cruising the outer edge of the flats, I began to accept my new found respect for these fish. Many people back home shoot carp with bow and arrow and simply throw them to the wayside as if they are worth nothing more than a moment’s excitement. How the carp ever came to be such a disrespected game fish is beyond me, but I now believe the first time any consummate conservationist sees one of these finicky feeding, beautiful beasts cruising crystal clear water in search of forage, their perception will be forever changed.

We moored the boat in a few feet of water and began a stealthy approach to the shallows. The water temperature in the bay we were stalking was 75 degrees; perfect for feeding fish. Stalking fish with a fly rod, in essence allows me to combine two of my greatest passions; fishing and hunting. I slipped up behind a large boulder, positioning myself 50 feet or so from a small pod of a half-dozen carp. Fly placement is crucial when fishing carp. Their eyesight is poor and they’re not aggressive chasers. It’s essential to present your fly within an area the size of a basketball hoop in front of the fish you’re targeting.

Assumptions are always dangerous when lacking proper research. Based on sheer numbers alone, I figured these fish would be easy to catch, but they are not. I worked this little pod for nearly an hour, before finally, a fish took. The moment is still fresh in my mind. I was growing anxiously annoyed, when I targeted a carp on the outskirts of the pod. The cast was a few feet beyond the fish, perfect for allowing my goby imitation time to sink the necessary two feet. As I strip-strip-stripped the minnow along the bottom, allowing for a pause just in front of the fish’s face, I watched with amazement as its bugle-mouth opened and inhaled my fly. Somehow I kept my excitement in check and executed a solid hook set. The fight was on.

As the thirty-inch fish ran for deep water, I slightly tightened my drag. We struggled back and forth for a good fifteen minutes before I finally brought the fish to hand. As I cradled the

fish, I realized never before in nature had I physically experienced a lesson of ignorance so profound, so obviously wrong. Carp are amazing. I released the fish back into the aqua waters as carefully as I would have a 25 in. Au Sable "Holy Waters" brown trout.

A nearby boulder begged me to take a break. I saddled onto the rock, realizing that in no direction could I see the hand of man. The only sounds I could hear were the waves breaking on the shore behind, and the wind whipping across the endless water. In search of carp on a fly, I found a paradise on Beaver Island.

For more information regarding travel to Beaver Island, contact the Beaver island Chamber of Commerce at (231) 448-2505 or view their website www.beaverisland.org. Travel to beaver Island can be arranged through the Beaver Island Boat Company by calling 1-888-446-4095 or by visiting their website www.bibco.com.

Brandon Butler is a syndicated outdoor writer from Bloomington, Indiana. He may be contacted through his website www.driftwoodoutdoors.org.

***This article appeared in the Petoskey News Review on June 24, 2009.  Click here to go to the original article on the Petoskey News Review site… Sight-fishing for carp off Beaver Island by George Rowe.

A few years ago, ardent anglers from all over these United States and some foreign places traveled to Beaver Island for the fishing.

The fishing then was the best smallmouth bass fishing on the planet. The cormorants are generally credited for the demise of that fishing and it may be on the rebound despite the every-present cormorants.

Now, however, there is a new star of the islands around Beaver is it is the lowly carp. Steve West, the enthusiastic Chamber of Commerce guy of the island, calls the fish the “Golden Bones of Beaver Island,” comparing the carp of course to the bonefish of Florida and the Bahamas.

And, it isn’t a bad comparison.

This is why one might see in St. James harbor a strange looking skiff with a poling platform at the stern and a long push-pole lashed to the deck. This craft is used to move slowly along the shallow flats, searching for the fish

This fishing is really part hunting. First you find the fish, then you work to get in position for a cast then you try for the fish. The fish is apt to ignore your offering so you go in search of another fish. Fortunately, there are lots of fish so you will get another opportunity shortly.

When I heard about this fishing, I was anxious to try it. As one with a great deal of experience with bonefish in Florida and the Bahamas, it would be very interesting to sample some new flats fishing.

I did some weekend charters while in Florida fishing the upper Keys and visited many locations in the Bahamas for bonefishing. This is some of the finest fishing in the world. The skiff, set up to operate well in shallow water, is poled across the shallow flats, in gin-clear water no more than 15- 20 inches deep. The fish are often spotted “tailing”, showing their tails and dorsal fins as the root around in the soft bottom for crabs, shrimp and other tasty morsels.

You can also spot them just swimming along slowly, cruising and the fact that they are often in small schools helps in seeing them.  Sometimes, you first see a “mud” where the fish have been feeding and stirring up the bottom.

Fishing for the Beaver Island carp is exactly the same, except that the fish are easier to see. The carp are darker and larger, averaging perhaps 15-20 pounds while bonefish rarely get as large as 10 pounds.

Still, it is a good idea to wear polarized sunglasses, especially if the day is cloudy or if there is much of a chop on the water. Last Thursday, the sun was bright for much of the day and Lake Michigan was a placid as a mill pond so it was pretty easy to spot the fish.

The fish congregate in the shallows as soon as the water is nicely warm and this is when they get their spawning done. The best time is apparently from mid-June through August. The best fishing technique is to cast a fly that imitates a crayfish or some other small crustacean. The shrimp flies that are used for bonefish would probably serve just fine. 

When a fish is spotted, the boat handler maneuvers the skiff close enough so that the angler can reach the fish and drop the fly well in front of the fish. When the fish approaches the fly, the angler begins a hopping retrieve, right in front of the fish’s nose.

Hopefully, the fish will turn and pursue the fly, taking it in his mouth.  More often than not, however, the fish will ignore the offering and continue to cruise.

Sometimes, the fish will show some interest by turning after the fly and then turning away again.

Like bonfish, the carp are quite spooky and once they sense your presence, they are no longer catchable – as a matter of fact, they often scoot right out of sight. They don’t seem too sensitive to the waving of the rod or even the little splash when the fly hits the water.

They are very sensitive to sound, however, so if the boat handler makes too much noise with the pole or if a wader makes much noise with his feet, they will spook away quickly.

The tackle we used was sturdy fly-fishing gear – an eight-weight rod with a matching weight-forward or torpedo floating line. The leader was about five feet of 10-pound-test mono. The flies were large, mostly multi-colored, but dark and most were weighted slightly. One can expect to make a good cast to many a fish before hooking up.

Our guide says they are really poor predators and not very effective in chasing down prey. Apparently their vision is not great. When you do hook up, it is set the hook and hang on.

These fish will make great long runs and yet another long run after you battle them back to the boat. They are very large, of course, very strong and they have terrific stamina. The reels the guide uses are large with a good drag and there is ample backing behind the fly line and you will see it on virtually every fish. The fight is similar to that of a bonefish but more dogged.

The bonefish is all run and little else. The carp is run, run again and get sideways and resist all the way back to the boat. They are truly great fun to catch. Some of the reward is the setting – way back in some remote bay by Hog Island all by yourself in a pristine wilderness surrounded by crystal-clear water.

The cormorants are still very much in evidence, despite serious efforts to limit their impact on the area. They have created absolutely barren rocky ruins on some of the smaller islands where they have roosted, killing all the trees and other foliage with their droppings.

The new import — the goby — may have a good impact on the fishing.  The cormorants eat them and thus maybe eat fewer bass fry. The goby is also bass food.

The smallmouth bass fishery has apparently recovered somewhat – there is once again an open season for them, starting July 1 and you could sight-fish for them just as we did for carp. We spotted many smallmouths, including a few tagged fish, probably tagged by the CMU research vessel operating in the area. Until the smallmouth bass fishery has fully recovered, it might make sense to make the season for them all catch and release.

 If you want to try this fishing, contact Kevin Morlock who operates the Indigo Gide Service out of Walhalla. He also runs trout and salmon fishing charters on the major rivers that feed Lake Michigan, but he is on Beaver Island through August.

He is largely booked, but he may have a few days left in August. He is pleasant, competent, a willing teacher and very well equipped in every respect. Contact him at (231) 898-4320 or .  We stayed comfortably at the Erin Motel right downtown on the water and just a short walk from the ferry dock and some good restaurants.

Want to try sight-fishing for big, powerful fish in a beautiful setting?  Try those Beaver Island “golden bones."

Other Links:  Petoskey News Review, Sight-fishing for carp off Beaver Island by George Rowe (Petoskey News Review), Beaver Island Chamber of Commerce, Brandon Butler of Driftwood Outdoors, Central Michigan University – Beaver Island Biological Research Station, Kevin Morlock of Indigo Guide Service, Erin Motel of Beaver Island, Beaver Island Boat Company, Round Goby – Fish of the Great Lakes by University of Wisconsin Sea Grant, Kevin Morlock’s carp flies.

Related Articles and Videos:

The article "River Mouth Rewards" by Brandon Butler (Driftwood Outdoors) appeared in Woods-N-Water News in March 2009.

River Mouth Rewards

Worn out after a long day coursing the final miles of one of West Michigan’s famed rivers in search of salmon, I sit resting upon the water’s windswept southern bank starring into eternity. My thoughts, clear from hours of serene solitude, begin to drift out over the rolling waves stretching beyond the horizon. In this momentary trance, a vision runs through my mind I have yet to displace; rivers are assumed to end at their mouth, but perhaps it’s at the mouth where the life of a river actually begins.
            Miles upon miles of renowned river water runs through the interior of Michigan. Anglers from around the world flock to fish the highly publicized riffles and runs of historical fame. From trolling crankbaits on the St. Joe for steelhead, to laying out delicate dry flies for brook trout on the Two Hearted, river fishing in Michigan is as diverse as it is wonderful.
            One aspect of fishing Michigan rivers which often seems overlooked by the masses is focusing on river mouths. It is here, at this portal between two worlds, where countless salmon begin their final journey and steelhead start their spawning run. Who better to understand the vulnerability of eager aggression, than we sportsmen who strive to seek great adventure? When a journey begins, we are full of steam and ready to tackle whatever the road may hold. Fish staging to run up a river seem to be no different.
I’m not sure if anyone, scientist or not, can positively deduce what drives salmon and steelhead to return to their home river to perform their most primal act of life. What we do know however, if only through simple observation, is anadromous migrating fish are wholly committed to their spawning journey. If you have ever watched these fish attempt to leap a waterfall or climb a manmade fish ladder, then you understand their level of determination. Harnessing the power this determination on the end on your line can result in unforgettable fishing experience.
               West Michigan fishing guide Kevin Morlock has spent his life getting to know the rivers of his home state. Kevin spends endless days on the water each year, and has come to the conclusion that river mouths are often an overlooked highlight of salmon and steelhead fishing. Kevin believes, “As fish head upstream from the lake, they become less and less aggressive the closer they get to their breeding grounds. Fishing then becomes more difficult as the fish become more indifferent towards most attempts.” It makes sense to think about salmon and steelhead becoming less aggressive as their journey nears an end. Imagine yourself at the end of a work day; unless you’re totally committed to your job, I would be willing to bet you begin to fade a little as the clock ticks closer to quitting time. The same rules apply to these migrating fish once they’ve been in the river for a spell. Their focus completely changes from feeding to breeding.
Kevin has learned to take advantage of this opportunity of targeting salmon and steelhead while they are at their peak level of aggression. “I’ve seen king salmon in west Michigan enter the deltas like tigers with a thorn in their paw; smashing nearly any big, bright, flashy presentation I offer,” he explains. “A week and many miles later, these same fish are passive, even skittish, toward the most subtle offering.”
When it comes to actually fishing the river mouths, timing is everything. Kevin states, “There is usually a relatively narrow window when conditions are optimal for migration, so it’s a good thing that fish tend to arrive early and mill around at the mouth.” Multiple runs occur each year, with the peak periods falling in and around August-September and February-March. During the peak migration season there are generally fish moving up the river at all times, but from a river mouth perspective, the hottest action occurs when the conditions are just right to stall the migration. This leaves plenty of aggressive fish congregating at the mouth. If I were to design my perfect scenario for river mouth fishing during the migration; I would already be making casts as the sun creeps over the eastern horizon to calm, clear water just in front of where a small creek dumps into the river. First light is prime time. Feeder creeks or a smaller river dumping into a larger river just inside its own mouth, are generally ideal locations to target. Rip-rap, concrete piers, sandy beaches, and rock flats are also top producing locations.
   Techniques for catching river mouth fish vary as far and wide as one can imagine. Fly fishermen find success in swinging flies down and across the current, as well as ripping flashy streamers. A general rule with flies, unless sight fishing to shallow cruisers, is to get your fly slightly above the depth of fish. This depth can only be determined by putting in the work necessary to figure it out.  Sometimes fish will want your presentation just above the bottom, other times they’ll be aggressive in the middle. Large flies, 4s, 2s, and even larger, tied in leech or bugger patterns are always a favorite. Clouser Minnows and other flashy streamers will trigger aggressive fish.  Sink tip or a full sinking fly line helps for getting your presentation down, but split-shot will drag down a floating line.
Fisherman throwing lures will suffice with a multitude of options varying from spoons to jigs to rapalas. Vary patterns, retrieve speed and depth until finding a combination that works. I like to fish from the bottom up, unless it’s obvious fish are in the top layer of warmer water. Counting down your presentations will help to establish a pattern of probing different depths. Live bait and eggs will work as well. When using live bait, be sure to check local fishing regulations to know what is and is not legal on the water your fishing.
Targeting salmon and steelhead when they’re fresh in the river makes sense for more reasons than simply tangling with the beasts at their highest level of fitness. Crowding, quality of table fare, and spawning disruption are all factors to consider when targeting fish at a river mouth.
Crowding on the upper, more popular stretches of Michigan’s famous rivers can at times be overwhelming. River mouth fishing will most often afford the opportunity of escaping the crowd. Boats have more room to operate and bank fishermen are less likely to have trouble finding suitable space. When it comes to enjoying the great outdoors, I don’t think any of us want to feel crowded. Spreading out at the river mouth is generally realistic.
If you are going to keep a couple for the freezer, it’s obviously important to take them while they’re fresh. River mouth fish are in supreme shape from their time in the big lake and should transition nicely to a plate. In regards to keeping these river fish, remember intelligent harvest is important. No one loves a meal of fresh fish, brought to the table by my own hand more than I, but while keeping a few fish from a hatchery based river is acceptable, naturally reproducing or wild fish, in my opinion, should be released.  In this day and age of reduced stocking, I believe catch-and-release is more important than ever in efforts necessary to maintaining great fishing. Use good judgment when considering where to keep and where to release fish. Some rivers can handle the pressure, and some can not.
  When the crowds flock up stream for salmon and steelhead, give river mouth fishing a try. If you time it right, and figure out a proper pattern, I think you’ll be pleased at what the mouth of a river has to offer.

Brandon Butler is a professional outdoor communicator and public affairs specialist from Indiana, who enjoys nothing more than doing "research" in Michigan.  Visit his website www.driftwoodoutdoors.org to read more of his work.

Kevin Morlock is a full time fishing guide in west Michigan with Indigo Guide Service.  Kevin is also an outdoor writer, phographer and Iditarod Sled Dog Racer.  Visit Indigo’s website www.indigoguideservice.com for more information or to book a trip.