I’m sure I’ve missed opening Michigan’s trout fishing season, but I can’t remember it. It’s been a ritual, a habit and magnet to the north.
Every year the anticipation of the opening erased the memories of numerous openers when the clever fish have eluded my lures.
Of course, fishing, like deer hunting, is more about fellowship, lying, grilling steaks and burgers, exaggerating past experiences, eating manly breakfasts, watching sunsets, toasting both the caught and the to-be caught trout and telling stories of how great the fishing used to be.
Now, the five in this year’s camp have new stories to tell. And, the first liar doesn’t have a chance. Like son-in-law Bob, who boasted he had a keeper on his stringer before his companions got to the pond.
‘I had my limit in an hour,? he bragged. Then why are you still fishing? ‘I’m not fishing, I’m sorting. Let me put some on your stringer.? I’m disappointed they let him over the bridge.
There’s something else I should tell you about our fishing. We fish stocked ponds in a private club. It ain’t exactly roughing it.
We open the season a week after the law allows. That way we are sure the plantings take place. You know, when the ice is gone. In the past we’ve practically had to fish trout through the ice.
The ponds are on the Hiawatha Sportsmans Club, a 37,000 acre expanse that runs from Lake Michigan (Naubinway) to just south of Newbury. The address is Engadine, a place made known by weatherman Sonny Eliot.
Private, stocked ponds conjures up a false image. We’ve had a whole lot more troutless dinners than we have trout entrees. This year was a major exception.
The Club gave me a certificate for my 40th year as a member, I was going there some years before that. They have about 50 rental cabins for members.
This is not a sales pitch. We’re there and we like it, but it ain’t like it used to be. We loved partridge hunting. Seldom hear of one being shot now.
Deer hunting for us is two days of searching and listening, but not seeing. 37,000 acres of woods and open spaces, but few deer. Years ago there were walker-hunters stirring things up.
Now there are road hunters, people with extreme patience and time, but few sightings. I think the kill was 14 last season.
Another thing. Membership thinking has changed on private hunt clubs. There’s more social hours, trap and bow and arrow contests, major attention to the 18-hole golf course and restrictions never imagined. Don’t make a noise after 9 p.m. Restrict your snowmobiling to groomed trails. There’s a grievance committee, jealousies between Lake Michigan residers and Lake Millecoquin people, museum lovers vs. more callous individuals . . . in short, it’s getting to be run more like Florida-area resorts than something ‘U.P.?
When I joined the club there were 15,000 members. Now there are 11,500 members. The Board acts like a political body. The Club has 37,000 acres, but when 400 adjoining acres became available, The Board bought it and made it an even more private club.
I know where it is, but I have no interest in knowing any more about it. The Board had the money, so they bought it, with little or no thought of lowering the dues.
One last point on Board-Council thinking. Colleges, cities, private industry, can buy carbon credits, thus avoiding building ‘cleaner? buildings. Our club, with so many trees, has lots of carbon credits for sale. Last year it brought the Club $250,000.
So, The Board bought equipment, just like a village or city. Don’t give taxpayers a break.
I better get off this and back on the fellowship, grilling and lying track.