the Detroit Tigers.
Most anglers stay off the lakes after several days of rain. The waters become muddy and the bite gets tough. So what is there to do? Go see the hometown heroes of course.
This was my first game at Comerica Park. In fact it was my first since the ripe old age of 11 years. Each section looked like a sceen from the television show Sesame Street. For roaming the seats were dozens of people dressed up like the character “Big Bird”. Mark “The Bird” Fydrich made a summer of poor baseball worth being something to see, and the whole state was watching, I didn’t know it then, but baseball fans across the country would turn the channel to watch his antics on the mound. My favorite Detroit Tiger back then was Aurellio Rodriquez, the 3rd baseman they always tried to replace. He was the Brandon Inge of the time, great glove, but little stick. It was terrible to hear just a few years ago of how he died walking near his favorite place to eat in Mexican Village when he was struck by an out of control car. During the early 1980’s for some reason the same held true, “My Tiger was Tommy Brookens”. He was small in stature, but gruff and a outdoorsmen to boot. Its great to have him come back in the organization and managing a farm club right here in Michigan. I would drive just to see him in the dugout.
Being a diehard Tiger Stadium fan, I must admit to being impressed by the new ballpark. There really isn’t a bad seat in the house. Here we are sitting in the third base side upper deck, four rows from the very top. It looked like we were right on top of the players, plus there was shade and a breeze up there. The vendors always came right on time, and the field itself looked immaculate. I forget the name of the woman who runs the grounds crew, but she needs a raise! The score board was right there to the left, and when Zoom Zoom Zumaya came into the game, I caught myself looking at the radar gun results with all the rest of the 40,000 plus fans.
After the game the next stop was right across the street to to the pub owned by Red Wings defenseman, Chris Chelios. Cheli’s Chili Bar soon filled with like minded fans who wanted to unwind with a bit to eat and a drought. These two friends (Alisha and Alexa) were given season tickets as gifts by their husbands. After attending most of the home games, they go there after every trip to the park. If you make it there, try the pulled pork sandwich. Good stuff.Ok, so how do I tie this into fishing? By going to a Lake St. Clair bait shop just up the road on West Jefferson of course. Lakeside is well stocked in everything you need for fishing the lake, and both the Detroit and St. Clair Rivers. After all the reports from Captain Mike at Matthews Bait and Tackle this year, and his success with trolling spoons. I decided to add a few to the spoon box. They had an impressive selection of Jr. Streak spoons from Wolverine Tackle. I should have took some pics of the spoons, but I will later this week for a blog on trolling spoons.
On the last trip to the Upper, the fishing was good, but not spectacular. I wouldn’t trade the trip for anything though. It seems like everytime you head out to the outdoors, you see something that makes that one particular vacation meaningful. Beyond that, you touch base with your family’s history, and one realizes how many others have walked through the cabin’s doors.
That cabin, that lil old log cabin is our family’s mecca, and we look forward to the pilgrimage every year. There is history written on its walls. One example; my grandfather caught a trout in 1948 and its marked on the wall, the next person to catch a trout was in 1972. My name is right below grandpa’s. The trees in set off the front porch, were planted when the cabin was finished in 1939.
This small building is the second such structure in the 7 acre parcel’s history. Its the outhouse, and every log cabin should have one. Kind of goes along with the hand water pump inside the cabin. Not that we aren’t without some modern improvements. Several years ago my dad and Uncle Robert (Flat Rock) strung an extension cord from the backdoor, through the tree limbs to the privy. It gets rather cold during hunting season you see, and that little electric heater sure comes in handy out there.
The trip also worked wonders for Bonnie, my 11 year old red (and gray) lab. She had been “down in the dumps” since the beagles past away earlier this summer. She at times tolerated those small dogs, but they kept her active. The change of scenery worked wonders for Bon Bon, and between chasing frogs at the waters’ edge and chipmunks through the forest, she must have felt like she again ruled the roost. She got her classic pose back, before she would have her head down and just shuffled from place to place.
As good as all that is, its the lake that sets off the place. In this corner is what we have called the “split” since long before I was born. The lake is spring fed, and is the feeder for four lakes before heading into the Indian River. There is an old water logged skif at its bottom, and the remains of one of the several log rafts that my dad and uncles built. Back in the 1940’s they had one on every lake in the area. They just walked to the lake, sometimes 8 miles away, and headed out in homemade boats.
Its not that the trip didn’t have its moments for fishing. We caught tons of 34 inch and smaller pike, and those dang bass would not stay off our lines. The muskies did their follows back to the boat, but it wasn’t until after we had left that the fish really turned on following three days of cooler weather. This 33 inch northern was taken on my 7ft St Croix Premier Medium action rod, Ambassadeur Tournament reel loaded with 30 lb Power Pro. You can barely see the yellow out of its mouth, which is a 3/4 oz Chartruse War Eagle spinnerbait. One effective method for taking pike on warm days is to locate your boat in the shallows adjacent to deeper water. Cast out and let the bait sink toward the bottom. Give the rod tip a sharp jerk to straighten the spinnerbait out, and begin a slow retrieve. This pike gulped it up, with only the blades hanging out. The water is so clear on the lake, that even though the fish was a good six foot below the surface, this picture that I took with my free hand actually came out pretty good.
the many bald eagles in the area. This Monarch butterfly had its moments. The darn thing would not leave me alone, first on the back of my leg and flew off, came back to rest on the front of my other leg and flew off again. The last time it circled around, I put my hand out and wouldn’t you know it, the darn thing landed on my finger.
And finally, the one thing you hate to see while you are in the Upper Peninsula. The southbound lane on the Mighty Mac. Wouldn’t you know it, while I was gone the grass grew 10 inches, its muggy and miserable. All I could think of was coming back for hunting season in November!
I think the old saying was actually “Fly on the Wall”. Originally I was going to start with something like, ” Shuddup, then Listen and Learn”. Guess thats just not politically correct anymore.