2014 Boating/Great Lakes Opener

My 2014 Boating Season has finally begun.  This is certainly the latest I’ve ever started my boating season here in Michigan.  But a mostly-free weekend coincided with some pretty nice weather; and so by Saturday evening, the boat was pulled from the garage, electronics installed, trailer inspected, tires inflated, and Numenon was fully geared up for Brown Trout! 

Trolling the beaches for the first Great Lakes trout and salmon of the year, but especially for brown trout, is one of my favorite ways to mark my official end of winter and start of spring.  The fish are generally not too big or plentiful; but each encounter is all the more meaningful.  Plus, the better the weather, generally the better the fishing; I like that synergy.  Finally, the fishing pressure is usually very light, and Lake Michigan presents itself in its most wild state.  This annual weather window provides a major migration opportunity for many waterfowl and other migratory birds; you never know what might fly or swim by.

K was excited to join me, and I hoped to use the big, tethered planer boards to pull our assortment of stick baits and small spoons.  While K and I have been fishing together for about 15 years, this would be a new experience for him, and I enjoy the lighter tackle we can use while still presenting a full Great Lakes spread of baits.  The distinct “flick” of a clean release from the line clipped to the tether is music to my ears and soothing to my soul.  I was looking forward to sharing this with K.

I picked him up in the dark on Sunday morning and we proceeded to the Port Sheldon launch.  As we crossed the Grand River in downtown GR, the trailer started to vibrate; and by the time I could pull over, the left trailer tire had disintegrated with a smoky flourish.  Fortunately we had ample shoulder room and enough light for a safe tire change; and we took care of the flat like Shake ‘n Bake from Talladega Nights.

There was not much doubt when this tire went.  The tire store was flooded with blow-outs; you gotta love the condition of Michigan Roads!

As we finally approached the pierheads, I was surprised to see a fair amount of scattered floating ice.  There wasn’t enough to represent any real danger, but there was enough that I had to abandon the idea of using the big boards, and we spent the first part of our trip picking a path through the flows, as opposed to raking the troughs where I expected success.  The remnant ice also meant the water was still cold!  After Saturday’s prolonged easterly wind, water here along the beach was 34-35 degrees F!  I’ve successfully trolled up a few fish in water that cold, but I knew the fishing would be more difficult than I had hoped.

This picture was chosen for the colors and lighting, not for the density of ice.

But as we passed one of my favorite creek mouths, an outer in-line board started sliding back, and soon the First Great Lakes/Boat Fish of 2014 was aboard!  A 1-1/2 pound salmon had eaten my orange and gold Scatter Rap Minnow!  That fish kept us along the beach for another hour, but I could tell that I was starting to rely on luck instead of manufacturing my success; and so we pulled lines and ran back to Pt. Sheldon’s “Bubbler”, one of the submerged hot-water outfalls from the local power plant.  It’s a fish magnet, and I’ve caught many early season fish here.  Between pressure and the general quality of the experience here, however, I usually choose to fish elsewhere.  But I thought that this might represent the only available, local warm-water haven for any available bait and predators; and this overcame my predilection for the beach. 

When we encountered water a few degrees warmer than ambient and the same bait was inhaled by a nice chunky brown trout on our first pass, I felt pretty well vindicated in the choice to switch locations!  I was a little concerned about the immediacy of our apparent success (it’s generally considered a sign of bad luck if you catch a fish on your first cast of the day; a virtual truism that I’ve experienced too often), and maybe that was reinforced when this fish got tangled in another line and flipped off.  But at least we knew some biting fish were present, and there were only a couple of other boats working the discharge, so we simply enjoyed our remaining time on the lake and each other’s silliness and company.  The high lines and stick baits went mysteriously silent, but riggers with Stinger spoons 15 to 20 feet down over 23 to 30 feet of water jumped a couple of times, and I was more than pleased to land a couple of beautiful brown trout before we pulled lines at about Noon.

K is smiling about the prospect of some good eats!

I'm happy to have begun the season in such a pleasant manner!

K’s family enjoyed a fresh fish Easter Dinner, and I got out in the boat and used my stuff!  What a partnership!

2014 Warm-up; Sucker Fishing

I’ve opened each of the last four or five open-water seasons here in West Michigan with a session of sucker fishing on a quiet section of a local river.  This started as a simple way of possibly putting the kids on some fish; but I have to admit, I’ve grown to like it!  I’m becoming attached to both the incipient tradition, but also to the simplicity of the act; and I enjoy the satisfaction of the first “real” fish of the year sliding up on the bank.  Plus, you never know what might happen!

Once again it is Spring Break.  The girls are off at college or traveling to visit relatives; I’ll be flying to Boston later in the week to hook up with all of them at a regional collegiate championship tournament and to make the long drive home.  (This, too, is becoming a tradition!)  Most of West Michigan has been vacated for points south, and my primary work is pretty quiet, since the local exodus includes many of my customers.  We’ve now enjoyed several consecutive days of seasonally nice weather for the first time in about 5 months, and I’m admittedly distracted.

There’s still ice on Lake Michigan and many of the local lakes, and the new sonar is not yet installed; so boating right now isn’t feasible.  I was smart enough to conclude my most recent shift at C’s with the purchase of a few dozen garden worms and some split shot.  The light spinning rods are already rigged and ready, and the rest of my sucker gear collection (a portable cooler with some small hooks, extending forked sticks, and a pair of needle-nose pliers) has stayed intact; and so it was very easy to hit my spot today after work.

The first things I purchased when C’s opened were these forked sticks; that must say something about my affection for this.

My favorite spot is basically an eddy below an extended riffle.  I can fish with a light shot here in the slower current and still find bottom.  The sweet spot in the eddy seems to shift, both between visits and during a session.  I haven’t quite figured out “Why?”, but usually in a few casts I can figure out where I’ll get bit.  As I approached, I could tell somebody else had already tried the spot; they had left behind their forked stick and some litter.  The litter (packaging) indicated to me that their sinkers and hooks were way too big (in my experience or for my taste); I can only hope that they weren’t wildly successful, because I don’t really need to clean up after them again.

Perhaps the calendar says “Spring Break”, but local conditions are a couple of weeks (or so) behind schedule.  There’s still some snow on the ground, the lakes are still covered in ice, and we had a frost a couple of nights ago.  I didn’t really know if the suckers would have arrived yet.  They’ve been there for me each spring, but in different sizes, quantities and species each year.  I questioned whether I was too early to hope for any success.

This concern was partially alleviated by the observation of a garter snake and some stoneflies hatching.  I was also pleased to see that the water was not too high, and reasonably clear.  My timing concern was quickly dismissed when the first worm I offered was inhaled and 2014’s First Fish (again, discounting ice fishing and my trip to Florida) was landed.

2014's First Fish!

Each beauty was released.

I landed a generous Baker's Dozen or so in the next hour and a half. The action started off hot and then dwindled; I don’t think there were too many fish in the hole.   All were the same species (redhorse, I believe), and all were about the same size.  I’d guess that these were male scouts, the first to arrive for this year’s spawn.  Fishing here should only get better as spring progresses.

The pursuit of suckers is not the most exciting sport; but these fish were big enough and strong enough to bend my rods and pull some drag.  The session gave me the opportunity to try out my new 2014 Michigan Fishing License, to get a little slimy and muddy, and to appreciate the quality of my custom sucker rod (6.5 feet, slow action and medium-light action) and new Nanofil line.  These paid off handsomely with a double-digit bonus carp.  This hole seems to be good for one a year, and this one seriously tested my gear.  It was a simple, fun, successful outing.  I suspect I’ll be back in 2015.

Double digit, bonus carp.

I suspect I need fishing experiences beyond suckers; but I need this experience, too. ***

A Spring Favorite of mine.  

*** I'm not alone; check out this blog from In-Fisherman that I found today (but after I'd decided I was going to go); http://www.in-fisherman.com/2014/03/05/sweet-sucker-fishing-thing/

Balls, Strikes and Eigenfunctions

I’ll explain this well; or I won’t.  There’s a decent probability of either outcome.  You might understand this; you might not.  The outcome might matter.  But it might not.  Regardless; Enjoy!  (Or not.)

*****

I’m no physicist, and I certainly have mathematical limitations.  But I love reading gift books, and I was recently fortunate to receive “In Pursuit of the Unknown: 17 Equations That Changed the World” by Ian Stewart (2012).  It’s exactly my kind of book; imagine a proper and challenging read for a liberal arts course in a given subject for a non-major.  Demanding enough to require and retain my attention, and yet not so far over my head that I drown; not so much about the subject as about the connections of the subject to others.  Reading such a book will remind me of much I know; confirm much that I don’t know; open my eyes to some wonder; and generally humble me.  Mostly, I’ll be left in amazement of what is (thought to be) known; and the simple fact that we figured (an approximation of) it out.

I’d pretty much enjoyed my journey through a dozen or so equations when I came to Chapter 14: Quantum Weirdness.  At this point in the book, I was definitely out of my comfort zone (mathematically), but because it’s not really a math book, I was able to stay with it.  I’m familiar enough with the particle/wave dual nature of light (and matter?) and rudimentary quantum mechanical concepts to still have been reasonably receptive to what the author was saying…when he really started talking to me.  A parameter of interest (something worth knowing or observing) has some relationship in space and time.  Accounting for either space or time; you can interpret the effect of the other on that parameter.  (You might say that I am uncertain about this and that I only understand this marginally; but I’m probably explaining it even less effectively.)  Each of these space-time relationships for a parameter is called an eigenfunction; and reality (or at least a quantum approximation of reality) is the superpositioning (supposition?) of multiple eigenfunctions (as many as you need, recognize, or can handle.) 

Which brings me to baseball.  It’s my favorite team sport, in my estimation the most beautiful of team sports, and has been a constant thread through my life.  One thing I like about baseball, is that it is not uncommon for a game to offer something you’ve never seen before, or a situation you’ve not yet encountered, which is pretty outrageous given the amount of baseball that’s been played, or that I’ve watched. 

But at the core of the game, consider a single pitch or play.  Ball or strike? Out or safe?  I’ve long been perplexed by the numenon of the issue.  Is the truth of the distinction between ball and strike (out and safe) based on physics and location; or by the umpire’s perception and call?  I don’t know.  I know umping is more difficult than playing; and that I was a better player than umpire.  But what is the truth for a given pitch, or a given play?  Slow-mo HD can (sometimes) provide an interpretable approximation of what happened; but The Call has (until recently, at least, with the advent of certain allowed reviews at the MLB level) always defined the outcome; and so I guess The Call is The Truth.  After all, that’s what gets recorded in the scorebook.

And yet, I know that during a certain game in the summer of 1982, with my team on a serious run for the playoffs, we opened the top of the first with a single, a stolen base, and another single.***  So I stood at first, having driven in the game’s first run, and received the steal sign.  I took off with the pitch and slid head-first into second base.  Just after my hand touched the base (and take this from me, I was closest to the play), the second baseman swiped my calf; and I was surprisingly pronounced “Out!”  Per physics (and what I would consider to be reality), I was clearly “safe”; but with the umpire’s pronouncement, I trotted off the field after a brief, polite discussion.  I was, definitively, “Out.”

The exact scenario (amazingly enough) repeated itself a couple of innings later: single; stolen base attempt; beat the throw; trot off the field, having been called “Out!”  So with the score tied in my last at-bat of the game, I simply broke it open with a bases-clearing double.  At least I’d avoided the possibility of getting thrown out at second again; I know Coach K would have sent me.

Similarly, as an umpire, I’ll simply apologize for ending a team’s season with a called strike; on a full count; with the bases loaded and the tying run on third; after a pitch in nearly exactly the same spot as the previous pitch, which I had declared to be “Ball 3!”  Certainly the last pitch was too close to take, but it could have been a smidge low or outside.  Regardless, I was seemingly powerless as my right arm raised itself and I declared “Strike 3!”  It was a strike because I proclaimed it so; but other than that proclamation, was it any different than the pitch identified as “Ball 3?”  In my defense, I had no interest in these outcomes; I wasn’t knowingly biased; and each of these calls almost surprised me, as if they’d made themselves.  Like I said, umpiring was way more difficult than playing.  But again, what represented the core truth of these plays?  The physical events, the perception, or the utterance?

Back to Chapter 14; each eigenfunction explains only a portion of a system; and in examining any single component, you disturb your ability to analyze other components contemporaneously.  Here we have a logical mathematical construct of some utility, and yet if it describes something scientifically demonstrated to be non-observable (or measurable), does it really have any valid scientific meaning?  Does it really matter what actually happened in a baseball play if it is perceived as (or declared to be) “Ball!  Strike!  Fair!  Foul!  Safe! or Out?” 

Well, apparently “The Copenhagen Interpretation” of quantum measurement is something along the lines of this; while there’s a probability of a parameter having one value or the other, instantaneous observation of the parameter defines (“collapses”) the state of that parameter.  So while we can all accept that a cloud of probable states surrounds (defines?) “some being”, that pattern of statistical probability is not a real thing, but rather a likely explanation of that being.   The Copenhagen Interpretation of an observed parameter defines the being’s state.  The Observation simply Is.  It was “Strike 3” because that’s how I saw it, and that’s how I called it. So it was, simply, Strike 3.

This Interpretation could be accepted as either Convenient or True.  You might not be able to tell me which.  Because one of the folks most disturbed by its collapsing consequences was a Giant in the Field.  To convey his concerns, Physicist Schrodinger developed the Thought Experiment that became known as The Cat in the Box.  Accepting that radioactive decay is a quantum event; and that an atom is either “decayed” or “not decayed”; that an individual atom’s decay is a probabilistic event, but recognizing that the individual decay could, in fact, happen immediately or belatedly; and further accepting that a cat is either “alive” or dead”; imagine a mortal cat in an isolated box, co-existing with a radioactive source and a flask of poison.

Simple enough; upon decay, the flask will release the poison; the cat will die.  We’ll disregard resistant flasks, poorly-concocted potions, hearty cats, other causes of feline death, or inaccurate observations.

Knowing the physics of our radio-active source, we know the probability at any given time (following the final packaging of the system) of decay; and so we know the probability of the cat being instantaneously alive (or dead) when the box is opened and the cat’s state observed.  The cat will have a defined state; it will be either wholly alive or dead; it won’t be partially dead or probably alive.  And the observation of the cat defines the cat’s state at the time of the observation.  Repeat the experiment, and sometimes the cat is alive; but sometimes the same cat is dead.

Apparently this all works out mathematically (and so is super-attractive to the quantum folks), except for (possibly) the collapse.  Schrodinger used his cat to propose the mathematical fallacy of the collapse; and yet everything works out so conveniently that the concept of the simultaneously alive-and-dead cat became an acceptable model at macroscopic scales.  The absolute truth of the cat’s state depends on the observation.  The result of a dead cat observation is equally as valid as observing a live cat.  Neither observation is more correct.  The cat’s state simply is, as observed.  Ironically, Schrodinger’s thought experiment has been held up in support of quantum eigenfunctional representations of our world.

From the web!

Bottom line; since an observation has a probability (p) of landing in a given state, then there is another probability (1-p) of landing in the alternative state.  That state’s existence is equally valid, and so a legitimate consequence of all this is that in an alternative universe, that alternative state was observed.

It really was Strike 3!  But more interestingly, I was safe at second; just not in this universe.  But things have still worked out pretty well here, so I’ll let this play go.  Similarly, I can see that, once again, results don’t matter so much as our participation in the process.  So even if I don’t have the math or the physics quite right; I probably do elsewhere!  Here and now (which is really all I have access to), I can recognize the value of simply receiving the gift, reading the book, pondering stuff and writing this. 

*** Sorry about the borish details, but this probably was my greatest game, at my highest level of competition, ever.  And on both sides of the field; I threw two runners out at home, too!  Now, to be completely honest, my heroics were all the more meaningful because I had committed an error at second base that allowed the tying run to score late in the game, in the half-inning before my last at-bat.

Ice Fishing 2013 - 2014 Summary

This pike from several years ago re-invigorated my interest in local ice fishing, and provided some fodder for continued faith in Reeds Lake.

*****

I’m usually pretty careful about capturing and recording the specifics of each trip in my fishing log, but this Ice Season past, I pretty much did the same thing, each time out.  Ice fishing has become, for me in these last few years, all about setting tip-ups for the available, local in-season predators; and that pretty much means “pike” around here.  So, lacking the motivation to specifically chronicle each trip, but still wanting to acknowledge that I had a pretty pleasant and somewhat productive season, here’s a general summary of my ice fishing experiences over the last few months.

Winter 2013-2014 was likely one to be remembered for a generation or more.  Recent winters have been sporadically intense, but lacking stamina.  We typically experienced (enjoyed?) breaks in the harshness every few weeks.  This wreaked havoc on ice conditions, and generally limited access to safe ice for any extended/predictable period.  This year, The Cold set in around the end of November and still has barely relented.  The Cold has been accompanied locally by near-record amounts of snow.    I’ve literally gone months without seeing my grass or driveway surface; and even our road has been ice-covered for weeks at a time. 

Ice conditions were looking good to me around Christmas.  While others were sporadically fishing before Thanksgiving on select waters, and under certain circumstances; the waters I prefer are deeper and slower to form safe ice.  I’m also pretty conservative about considering ice “safe”, and so I probably missed out on a couple of very early ice opportunities.  Just as ice fishing became personally feasible, we had a quick thaw.  I thought we were in again for another on/off season when Winter really settled in, seemingly permanently.  So we ended up on the ice before New Year’s Day, and folks are still out there on the same ice today!

Our early sessions were characterized by tons of flags, but fewer hook-ups and even fewer legal fish.   It’s fun to get a dozen or more flags in a session, but it’s also fun to catch some worthwhile fish!  I worked pretty hard at covering water, finding hot holes and so forth, but on any given day, any particular hole, whether in 6 feet of water or 30, could be the producer.    Our pike topped out at only 28 inches or so, and most were 20 to 23 inches.  These were released with care, hopefully to continue to grow into the next few years’ target. 

Kelly with our first "keeper" of the ice season.

I rig my tip-ups pretty minimally, and I prefer bigger baits.  Maybe lots of our flags were due to sub-20 inch fish.

I couldn’t help but notice that Kelly, with his single hook straight to mono, got more flags with his traps than I typically got with mine.  I typically rig for pike with fine wire and a double-hook quick-strike rig.  I know I have a better hooking percentage and lower break-off percentage than my primary ice partner, but I also recognize you need to get bit!  So maybe next year, I’ll work some more fluoro rigs into the mix.  They used to work when we were fishing for Muskegon Lake walleyes!

One day we had perfect conditions for hoofing it across the lake to a prime structure.  Given the lack of quality fish and fishing pressure at our early ice location, we chose to try this more remote spot one Sunday morning.  Kelly was a few minutes ahead of me that morning, and I could see him across the lake, setting traps as I collected my gear for the 15-minute walk across the ice.  As I walked across the access point, I was joined by a couple of other fellows.  I hustled it across to Kelly and we discussed what he was seeing with his graph, as I thought about complementing his three traps with mine.  Just as I finished drilling my first hole (which turned out to be The Spot for the day, in 12 feet of water right along a prime break from a feeding shelf into the main lake basin and  30 or more feet of water), my fellow companions caught up to me and started setting up shop.  Uncomfortably close, too, in my opinion.  As it turned out, they were pan-fishing and we didn’t really compete for fish on this day; but I’m still baffled in their comfort in setting up so close to us.

Our reward for the day was lots of action and a few legal pike, but none of the local lunkers to which I’m accustomed to catching here in the open water aboard Numenon.   But we captured The Spot on Kelly’s new sonar/gps unit, and we’ll be back.

I was alone for my next trip (MLK Jr. Day is an odd holiday to have in the working world), and I chose to hoof it even farther across the lake to an even lunkier spot.  My reward that day?  No fish action whatsoever, but I did get to spend a nice day outside, and I did watch our local bald eagle for a while.   The eagle disappeared from our area soon thereafter, pushed farther south,  and I’d like to think that my lack of action was because a giant pike was sulking in the vicinity.  I liked being alone, and this spot has enough history with me to keep me enthusiastically engaged for a few more sessions.  I’ll undoubtedly risk some more slow fishing here in the future for the possible reward of a nice, big pike through the ice.

Fish like this gator are known to live nearby.

A couple of weekends later I spent a day and a half with Kelly and his family at his in-laws’ home on the banks of a chain of lakes in Newaygo County.  A near-blizzard on Friday made the weekend uncertain, but by noon on Saturday we were both up there, with several dozen baits and our limit of tip-ups set.  With well over a foot of snow on the ice, extremely low temps and strong winds, conditions were pretty brutal; but made tolerable through the use of the house’s boat house as a shelter, a fire pit, a portable propane heater, fine outdoor clothing and a good attitude.  Home-made chili, a couple of beers and a picture window through which to watch for flags during meals sure helped, too.  Both dinner and breakfast were interrupted by a flurry of flags; that was simply fun.   Again, the yield for a couple of dozen flags was only a few legal pike.  All were returned safely to the water.

At this point in the season, my attention turned to Florida.  Kelly took a 31-incher through the ice while I was in Florida, and that will have to be the Ice Fish of the Year; but honestly, it’s tough to get overly excited about ice fishing (except for the pleasant company and experiences I hope I’ve outline here) when something like my recent Florida experience is in play.

Not a bad alternative to ice fishing...

This was supposed to be the year I got serious about ice fishing again and equip myself with a new sonar/gps for the ice.  I haven’t been quite able to pull that trigger (my C-bucks have been going towards other gear), but we’ll see how the new Humminbird SI works out on Numenon.  I can always get one next year, or convert my displaced Lowrance unit into an ice machine. 

So, I think I’m ready to put this ice season behind; but I’m by no means ready for the season to come.  There are so many things to address.  New sonar installation!  Fresh line!  Worm supplies!  Mack’s Smiley Blades for coho and walleyes!  Muskie spreads!  While I’m addressing these open-water issues, I’ll ponder this assessment; ice fishing this season was a pleasant, healthy winter diversion.  I ice fish with friends, and we shared many laughs.  While the fish I encountered weren’t necessarily all that exciting, each flag represents the upper bound of potential for the lake I’m fishing.  That unrealized potential is my companion every time I set a trap, and I still feel a rush of greatness with every waving flag.  I really am an optimist!

This flag could mean anything's at the end of the line.  I choose to think it's a Monster Pike!