Memorial Weekend at Ludington

DATE:             5/27 and 28/12

LOCATION:    Ludington

With:              Self, Numenon

TIME:             Both mornings

HOURS:          About 9 (great lakes trout and salmon, drum and pike combined)

WEATHER/CONDITIONS:  Post thunderstorm; windy; wicked thunderstorm; and then more wind and hot

Woke up at 3:30 AM and checked the radar; nothing on the screen and forecast seas of <1 foot.  Set off for Ludington and enjoyed the electric light show as I approached Muskegon and turned north along the lake.  By the time I got to Ludington, it seemed as though the storms had passed, and so I launched in pursuit of Great Lakes salmon and trout.  (One of the ideas of the trip had been to escape the seasonal transitional doldrums of our more southern ports on Lake Michigan.)  Winds were brisk from the SE, and not really expected to abate over the weekend, so I figured I’d fish south of port with the wind at my back for an easy return.  Once out of port, however, it seemed like an ill proposition to go offshore in any direction; and so I hugged shore and hoped for a brown trout or drop-back steelhead in shallow water.  Water temps were about 55 F, and so I’m not sure I’d have escaped the doldrums, anyway.

Near the Pump and Store Project, I glanced to the northern horizon and noticed an unsettling blackness beyond port, with some occasional lightening.  I raced back to port and was the first boat back; but just barely had the boat back on the trailer when this roll cloud passed through; it was accompanied by some gusty winds, thunder, and followed with a torrential, but brief, thunderstorm:

Ludington roll cloud.

So it was time for breakfast with all my new friends at McDonald’s; when an old vet offered me a seat, how could I say “No thanks” on Memorial Day Weekend?  Mel was full of good fishing advice; ‘gills in 8 feet of water (“not along shore!”) on Hamlin Lake, and walleye in the harbor at night (“why do they feed at night?”)

Fresh off my pike success on Reeds Lake, I figured I’d try Pere Marquette Lake for the first time.  Most of the lake seems to be 30+ foot basin, fringed by a short sand bank, a strip of weeds, and a steep drop.  The eastern end of the lake was quite a bit shallower than depicted on my plotter, so I learned to take care wherever water was advertised as less than 10 feet deep; and industrial “pilings” stretch into the lake at various points.  It seemed a bit like Manistee Lake, and so was familiar enough, but my initial strategy was to troll cranks along the edge, with a couple of baits in the basin.  In fact, my initial spread replicated my typical Reeds Lake approach to pike.

There were a lot of marks to keep me entertained, and there seemed to be a lot of bait (alewives, as expected?), so success seemed possible, but I started fairly slowly.  The first fish hit a chartreuse and white Flicker Shad (back 100’), and it turned out to be a Freshwater Drum of almost 20 inches:

Beaten drum.

This fish reminded me of Lake Erie, and so I put out a dipsey diver with a small scorpion-style orange/copper confusion spoon.  The diver was set at 45 feetback, at a setting of 3, so I expected a swim depth of about 15 feet, but I noticed that it had a great variance of depth based on speed; perhaps more so than at greater (normal) set-back distances.  Soon after deployment, a 24”, 8 or 9 pound drum ate this spoon and pulled some serious drag to validate the morning’s efforts.  It helped me forget the drive by miss on the secret weapon rig over the basin and the missed Great Lakes opportunities of the day.

Lake Erie adaptation.

There’s nothing like the forced transition from “Great Lakes Trout and Salmon Fishing” at a storied port such as Ludington (with so many associated fond memories) to “Trolling in an Industrialized Drowned River Mouth for Whatever Bites” to remind one of the world-class quality of the fishing we have on Lake Michigan.  And while Ludington’s Pere Marquette Lake lacks a certain charm, it’s upper end is relatively undeveloped (at least on one side), and with abundant bait and suspended marks, it kept me more than interested for a couple of mornings.  It’s always nice to try a new lake or new techniques and have some success; and truthfully, the fishing was probably better than a Canadian drive-to resort on any given day.  While I was thinking “pike”, I was amenable to “anything”, and the drum I encountered all took drag, all were stubborn fighters, and all were generally welcomed aboard.  I’ll continue to be haunted by Sunday’s fish that grabbed my Lake Erie-inspired dipsey/spoon combo with one of the most thunderous and violent hits ever aboard Numenon.  Like most haunting fish, it got away without so much as a flash of identification.  Probabilistically, it was a drum; but possibly, it was a pike, muskie, flathead, or sturgeon…(virtually anything else is possible in our drowned river mouths)…any of which would have enhanced my season.

Long ago I received a gift book, “Fishing for Buffalo” by  Rob Buffler and Tom Dickson.

The point of their writing is that “trash” fish can be worthy of our attention and efforts, and their pursuit is as legitimate as game fishing. I’ve occasionally embraced their philosophy, and if I’m smart, I’ll continue to do so.   Chapter 4 addresses the freshwater drum, and can be summarized in this statement from the book:

“The drum is a better walleye…They fight harder, taste better and are easier to catch.”

But perhaps the best fishing memory of the weekend was Amy’s explanation to Katie that “a 5-pound smallmouth bass fights like a 30-pound salmon.”  And while I understand her proposition, I especially appreciate her authority on the subject, what with her having never caught a 30-pound salmon.  (I’ll give her one 5-pound smallmouth.)  Unencumbered by fact, she simply shared what she believed; all during a weekend that she lovingly engineered for her family.  Fishing was different and pleasant, we shared several meals, we re-discovered Ludington State Park, and Ollie spent his first night in a hotel!  She made this happen, and I’m glad, so I’ll let her piscatorial editorializing pass.  In the meantime, I do feel confident that I can say “a 9-pound drum fights better than anything else I encountered this weekend, and better than most of the fish I’ll encounter this season.”  So why would I not want to fish for them?

Reeds Lake Pike & Panfish

DATE:             5/26/12

LOCATION:    Reeds Lake

With:              Steve and Ben L., Numenon

TIME:             6 – 11:30 AM

HOURS:          5.5 (bass, panfish, pike combined)

WEATHER/CONDITIONS:  Overcast, some showers; easterly winds to 10 mph; about 65 F

This was my first time on Reeds Lake since they “nuked” it for weeds 10 days or so ago.  It’s Opening Day of Bass Season and first-time guests were expected on board; so I was ready with lots of gear for panfish, bass, and pike.  I spent the first hour or so prospecting for panfish and bass; and the bite seemed “off”, but some panfish were located along weed edges.  No bass action at all on senkos and topwaters; and so I knew we’d start fishing together for panfish.

Both Steve L. and his son Ben helped out at the Waves’ Scoring Table tremendously this season; and during our chats, their budding interest in fishing became clear.  This day was hatched back in December, and it worked out well.  I picked the L’s up at the dock at about 7:20 AM and we slowly but steadily picked away at panfish (gills and crappies, but mostly crappies.)  Fly/jig with wax-worm under a float; or slowly swimming a sweetened jig kept them biting pretty good along weed edges.  At about the third spot I started being able to see the fish, and we sight-fished in shallower water successfully, with an increased catch rate.  Gills topped out at <8”, crappies at about 9”.    We didn’t count, but probably 35 fish came over the gunnels in a couple of hours.

Steve and Ben had never caught a pike, and so at about 9:30 we switched over to trolling crankbaits for pike.  My biggest concern was for loose weeds fouling the lures, but that turned out to be not much of a concern.  The spread consisted of two flat lines with hot-n-tots off the corners (back 55’ and 65’); and last fall’s successful combos off boards; a clown reef runner back 75’; and a pink little ripper off 2 colors of lead.  The boards were run off the deep side of the boat to keep them in the basin away from weeds; the boat was kept in >15 fow; speed was about 2.5 mph.

As I set the second line (reef runner) in the basin behind the middle school, it was “Fish On!”  It felt hefty and Ben did a good job of bringing this 29” pike into the boat.

Ben and Steve with the day's first pike.

A prime Reeds Lake pike.

Good pike fishing continued with 4 more pike to the boat in the next hour and a half, including 2 more of this size.  (The other two were barely sub-legal and definitely sub-legal.)  All fish were released unharmed.

• ·      29”, yellow/red hot-n-tot back 55’, “Manhattan Point” on N Side
• ·      Sub-legal, pink reef runner off 2-colors of lead, “Manhattan Point”
• ·      Barely sub-legal, clown reef runner back 75’, Middle School Basin
• ·      29”, clown reef runner back 75’, Middle School Basin

In summary, the gills were probably post-spawn; the crappies were probably still spawning; bass were AWOL; and the pike were feeding well.  We marked suspended fish with some big marks mixed in virtually constantly, especially 15-20’ down; and these pike were definitely suspended and feeding.  With no mechanical or launch/retrieve problems and pleasant company, this was a nice day; but probably the best part of the day was to receive this note from the L’s:

“Thanks for taking us fishing this morning. Ben and I had a great time. It was probably our best fishing experience of all time!”

Numenon Introduction

Steve, way offshore in Lake Michigan, aboard Numenon.

Welcome to my new blog, Numenon.  Numenon is the name of my boat, a 2003 Lund Fisherman.  I like (love?  need?) to fish, and Numenon has been an awesome, versatile and reliable tool for my fishing exploits over the last decade. 

I suspect this blog will be mostly about my fishing, but always with an underlying thread of what this might mean to me.  In the grand scheme of things, my fishing surely means little.  But on the scale of day to day existence, I think my passion for, and practice of fishing helps to define me, and makes me a more interesting person.  My family and personal acquaintances can form their opinions about this one way or the other and bear the consequences; cyber-friends can simply choose to stay or click elsewhere.

Naming a boat can be a daunting proposition.  In my opinion, the name should be appropriate, unique and timeless.  So how did I arrive at Numenon? 

One of my first assignments in college involved reading Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac.  From humble beginnings, Mr. Leopold became one of America’s earliest and foremost conservationists.  I’d like to think of his 1949 Almanac as a casual, yet thoughtful, journal regarding his land and his stewardship of it.  My professor demonstrated wisdom with this reading assignment, and I demonstrated my youth in not really getting it; but there was something in the book that stayed with me and caused me to re-visit it 18 or 20 years later.

That “something” was Leopold’s concept of “Numenon”.  You could spend some un-satisfactory time with a dictionary trying to define this term.  A current Google search might get you closer to Leopold’s meaning, which I take as spiritual and yet not mystical.  His alternative spelling of the term confuses the search for a definition and yet uniquely and appropriately individualizes its use.  I’ve incorporated “Numenon” to mean “the core essence of a system; if something cannot be removed or changed without altering or compromising the system within which the entity resides…that is the system’s distilled essence, its Numenon.”  I (think I) remember Leopold’s examples of a brook trout in a cold mountain stream, and the ruffed grouse of his pine barrens farm.  These systems would lose their identity, usefulness, value and interest without these keystone members.  There are other streams, other farms…but aren’t these systems more complete and interesting with the presence of the brookie or the grouse?  Aren’t our senses graced by their presence?

I’d like to think that I’m a good citizen, and I really do know that family matters are my top priority, so it seems kind of silly and selfish to assign my core essence to a boat or a hobby.  But I am kind of silly (and possibly selfish when it comes to fishing), and it was natural for me to name my boat (and now my blog???) Numenon.  If I am unique or interesting, if I have anything to widely share…it’s probably got something to do with fishing.  Take away my fishing or my boat; and I simply suspect I’m just not the same guy.

Ten years ago or so I shared a conversation along these lines with a friend.  A couple of years later, a third party asked him the meaning of my boat’s name.  “It’s a kind of mayfly,” he explained.  Oh, well.  His version is shorter, quicker, and serves the same purpose in a casual conversation.  It’s just not as complete or interesting.

Thanks for reading so far.