Have you ever fished in such uncomfortable circumstances that most in your life would consider you mad for exposing yourself to such extremes? Maybe it didn’t start out that way, but somewhere along the line, you crossed the line of rationality? That happened to us, more specifically me, with my husband as an almost hostile accomplice.
We went camping on Muskallonge Lake in Michigan’s upper peninsula with high hopes of indulging in some of Michigan’s finest fishing… his idea. It was late June. We’d read about the famous Two Hearted River that Ernest Hemingway wrote of, known as a blue ribbon trout stream. After a lengthy drive on washboard dirt roads, questioning the accuracy of our road choices, having no cell service, and therefore, no GPS to guide us on our way, it felt like we might be on a wild goose chase. I was glad we’d recently gassed up. We eventually arrived at the mouth of this river where it spills into Lake Superior, daunted by the appearance of a lack of accessibility to novices such as ourselves without a guide. We had our waders and fishing gear… that was it. We suspected we were in over our heads when we saw an air strip in the middle of nowhere, as it dawned on us that perhaps this river was meant more for professionals or those with advanced resources… $$$.
After driving in and out of several two tracks for a viable access point, we ran into someone who’d suggested a spot on the east branch of the TH. It was right off the road, so we gave it a shot. We’ve been told when the bugs are biting so are the fish. I certainly got much more bug bites than fish. I’m pretty tolerant in my pursuit of fish as a tomboy who grew up with three brothers, but this was next level. For the first time I wore a bug net over my head… a challenge for one with a little claustrophobia. I was grateful for this luxury. It obstructed my view somewhat, as I tread very slowly in unfamiliar territory in my waders. Wouldn’t you know, with my first cast, I caught a tiny brookie who unfortunately swallowed the hook. Since he was lively, I cut the line. This means I had to tie on another hook and re-bait surrounded by possessed bugs beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
Picture this… exposed hands, the only skin available to the varmints, who are desperate to remove my O negative blood, more so than the blood center! Now imagine one with osteoarthritis to the hands trying to quickly tie on a hook with a bug net partially obstructing her view while being mercilessly attacked. Nough said. Beyond that, a few tree branch tangles requiring the same and you have… a mad woman across the water, this phrase inspired by the Elton John album from the 70’s of a similar name. There is no bug spray on earth to deter these crazed and vicious mosquitoes and biting flies without also exterminating the fisherman. We’re certain they hatched upon our arrival providing a most dreadful greeting!
So what did we learn here? The camp rangers’s office was closed long term. The person who checked us into the campground didn’t seem to have specific info, just a basic DNR Michigan fishing guide, which is difficult to navigate. In other words, don’t count on others to help you out. Do extensive research ahead of time and have a detailed printed map of the road system. Know your limits. Keep your sense of humor. And finally, plan a menu that doesn’t include fish that you expected to catch.
Will we enter the Two Hearted River again? Maybe… afterall, I am a mad woman across the water. But next time, we’ll be better prepared and we’ll time our trip when the bugs are hopefully not at peak season, though in Michigan’s upper peninsula, one never knows for sure and must prepare accordingly.
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