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River Report - April 4, 2018
The Old Au Sable Fly Shop Fishing Report
What can I say? I’m done trying to predict the fishing based on the ten day weather forecast—at least for a little while. Spring in Michigan always throws up curve balls, but this year has been ridiculous. This year Momma Nature is serving up Phil Nierko knuckle balls. It’s frustrating at best. That said, streamer fishing will continue to produce on low barometric pressure changes and, if it ever warms up, the run-off events should produce. Just don’t ask me which days those will occur. I’m taking fishing predictions one day at a time. I may be able to help with what will happen tomorrow. Maybe. You’ve gotta love Northern Michigan; it certainly makes you earn it.
Here’s something I can say for certain, “We are officially toed into the twenty eighteen fishing season”. The twenty seventeen season ended March thirty-first, so it’s time to pick up your new fishing license. Fishing licenses in Michigan are good for all species and cost twenty-six dollars for residents seventeen to sixty-four, are free for kids under seventeen, and only cost eleven bucks for seniors. I wish it were free for seniors—they’ve already paid their dues. Regardless, it’s still the cheapest entertainment you can buy. My goal is to go so often that each trip only costs pennies.
It’s so odd outside right now. The robins and woodcock have started to return along with a whole bunch of disappointed song birds. And the turkeys have already started to strut. All the up North world believes Spring is nearly here and now we’re all trudging through a foot of folly. It’d be funny if it were actually an April Fool’s joke. And I guess I’m sorta chuckling. But with more of a “what else you gonna do but laugh” type of laugh.
A month ago I thought that we’d be fishing dry flies by mid-April. Now, I only know two things—the first is that I don’t know anything and, secondly, that nature is a stern, knuckle-rapping teacher.
I’m polishing up and organizing my tools of ignorance and getting ready for everything that is on the horizon and will certainly come. Rods are stacked by my waders and fly boxes and my turkey calls are in the bag next to my decoys and camouflage. I can’t wait.
Hope to see you all soon,
Andy
Here’s something I can say for certain, “We are officially toed into the twenty eighteen fishing season”. The twenty seventeen season ended March thirty-first, so it’s time to pick up your new fishing license. Fishing licenses in Michigan are good for all species and cost twenty-six dollars for residents seventeen to sixty-four, are free for kids under seventeen, and only cost eleven bucks for seniors. I wish it were free for seniors—they’ve already paid their dues. Regardless, it’s still the cheapest entertainment you can buy. My goal is to go so often that each trip only costs pennies.
It’s so odd outside right now. The robins and woodcock have started to return along with a whole bunch of disappointed song birds. And the turkeys have already started to strut. All the up North world believes Spring is nearly here and now we’re all trudging through a foot of folly. It’d be funny if it were actually an April Fool’s joke. And I guess I’m sorta chuckling. But with more of a “what else you gonna do but laugh” type of laugh.
A month ago I thought that we’d be fishing dry flies by mid-April. Now, I only know two things—the first is that I don’t know anything and, secondly, that nature is a stern, knuckle-rapping teacher.
I’m polishing up and organizing my tools of ignorance and getting ready for everything that is on the horizon and will certainly come. Rods are stacked by my waders and fly boxes and my turkey calls are in the bag next to my decoys and camouflage. I can’t wait.
Hope to see you all soon,
Andy