The River

by Eric Mickelson

As soon as you see it, you stop dead in your tracks. The bright shards of light shining back up at you atop the hill. You have a hard time walking down the hill because your eyes refuse to look away from the glimmering beauty ahead. The only reason paying attention to the path becomes a concern is because the tree roots sprouting out of the beaten ground are almost causing you to tumble. All there is to do once your standing next to the rushing water is stare in amazement. You worry for a moment about poison ivy, or oak then realize the itching the will simply have to dealt with later.

The waders seem to guard you from most elements of the forest but not from the chilled feeling of the water. At first it feels uncomfortable because the temperature the water is at hasn’t been felt on your skin since the end of winter. Once your body remembers the feeling and how refreshing it is compared to the muggy, almost misty climate of Michigan you could just stand their all day. Then you realize why you’re carrying around a cricket cage and a flimsy old rod and reel. FISHING

The hook and weights are still there from the previous fishing experience so all that needs to be done is a good shake of the cricket cage and a quick snatch at the first little guy that falls from the opening. Run the hook underneath the cricket’s rib cage, get a good footing and toss your first cast. The simple act of casting out in such a refreshing environment could cause you to sit in the same spot all day. The only thing that causes you to move is the impatience of not catching any of those unique, but crafty, little trout.

The snagging a trout is an experience that can only truthfully be felt during the fishing experience. I will at least try to give an example.

After patience and a good choice in eddy you're getting a few bites and the next thing you know the head of your cricket is gone. As soon as you cast the next cricket out, it happens, you've got a monster on the other end of your line. At least it seems that way. Trying to reel in quickly seems to help but you're scared the line will break so letting the little guy tire himself out is the only option left. The brownie gives out his last gasp and darts out of the rushing water. As he rises out of the water the world seems to slow down and the brownie's body begins to tighten into a long, curling smile without a face. As he curls a shimmer of light starts behind his gills and rolls quickly down the body and snaps off the tail. There's no more fight in him. I reel him in to find out how big this beast is and find out through the naked eye he's no more than eight inches long. At last this strong menace was nothing more than a child in comparison.

For more information on Brown Trout fishing, you can download Michigan's 2005 Fishing Guide