Fly Fishing The Cass
It had been a few years since I had slipped my legs into a pair of neoprene waders with my fly rod in hand and walked the river bed of the Cass River that runs through Tuscola County where we live. As life goes, it seemed that all too often, something had been scheduled on a Saturday morning to allow for a fishing trip with my good friend Mike Miller. However, this Saturday was different. Mike had asked me to go along so that both of us would be able to brush up on our fly fishing skills and, as usual, it seemed that I was going to have other obligations.
By Friday afternoon when Mike had asked me for the third time if I was going or not, I decided that the office, my personal life and my every day living would not get in the way this time. I realized that I was in desperate need of some time away from the cell phone, family and people in my life.
Wondering if my fly fishing technique would come back to me, I loaded up my Hardy rod and reel, waders, nymphs and camera and headed out for Mike’s. I thought to myself as I traveled, “would I even remember how to back-cast, or remember which fly to use?” It did all come back to me after a trying a few casts and a couple unsuccessful flies as we worked our way up the river.
The heat of the day rose as the morning sun ascended into a nearly perfect blue sky and soon the river slowly came to life around us. A white tail doe with her two spotted fawns stood beneath the limbs of a stooping popular and above, a young eagle soared effortlessly, navigating the twists and turns of the clear, rushing river searching for a morning meal. It was obvious that we were no intrusion to the natural surroundings of this river. All around the voice of the river sung out a melody of sounds, birds chirped as they flittered about on their daily activities, the call of a whooping crane echoed in the distance. To my left, a squirrel cussed me out for being too close to his stash that he had buried in the ground. All the performers in this play of life seemed connected to this one primitive spot on the river and all the sounds mingled together with the rhythm of the crashing current colliding against the rocks.
Mike in no time was confident in his roll cast and using a small bass popper he soon had made our trip a successful mission. With a little help my “blue gill bug” I was able to catch twenty five or thirty "wanabe" blue gills that added up to half of Mike’s “lunker” bass. This too is normal when fishing with Mike. It seems that when Tim (my business partner and Mikes brother-in-law), myself or any of our outdoor adventurists fish with Mike,
it becomes quite apparent who the master angler is. For my experience, only one time in a decade of fishing have I out-fished Mike with the “monster catch of 2010” when I landed a "record" walleye on the break wall of Light House Park. It is a story that I love to tell. I do however, leave Mike to tell his version as it seems to become more exaggerated with each recitation.
As we maneuvered the Cass River finding “honey hole” after “honey hole” the stress of the work week drifted far from my minds. The current rushing past us, the wildlife that surrounded us and the rhythm of our lines dancing across the water quickly replaced life’s realities that we had left behind.
A day on the Cass River with fish or no fish has been a great escape and a recommended “prescription for what ails you” according to master angler Mike Miller for some time. I would agree. With a successful catch or not, the sheer beauty that surrounded me while fishing on the Cass River left me with a feeling of the tranquility that I had been searching for. Donning the waders with rod in hand and spending my day on the Cass River, put life back into perspective and "cast away" my concerns of the world.
By Friday afternoon when Mike had asked me for the third time if I was going or not, I decided that the office, my personal life and my every day living would not get in the way this time. I realized that I was in desperate need of some time away from the cell phone, family and people in my life.
Wondering if my fly fishing technique would come back to me, I loaded up my Hardy rod and reel, waders, nymphs and camera and headed out for Mike’s. I thought to myself as I traveled, “would I even remember how to back-cast, or remember which fly to use?” It did all come back to me after a trying a few casts and a couple unsuccessful flies as we worked our way up the river.The heat of the day rose as the morning sun ascended into a nearly perfect blue sky and soon the river slowly came to life around us. A white tail doe with her two spotted fawns stood beneath the limbs of a stooping popular and above, a young eagle soared effortlessly, navigating the twists and turns of the clear, rushing river searching for a morning meal. It was obvious that we were no intrusion to the natural surroundings of this river. All around the voice of the river sung out a melody of sounds, birds chirped as they flittered about on their daily activities, the call of a whooping crane echoed in the distance. To my left, a squirrel cussed me out for being too close to his stash that he had buried in the ground. All the performers in this play of life seemed connected to this one primitive spot on the river and all the sounds mingled together with the rhythm of the crashing current colliding against the rocks.
Mike in no time was confident in his roll cast and using a small bass popper he soon had made our trip a successful mission. With a little help my “blue gill bug” I was able to catch twenty five or thirty "wanabe" blue gills that added up to half of Mike’s “lunker” bass. This too is normal when fishing with Mike. It seems that when Tim (my business partner and Mikes brother-in-law), myself or any of our outdoor adventurists fish with Mike,
it becomes quite apparent who the master angler is. For my experience, only one time in a decade of fishing have I out-fished Mike with the “monster catch of 2010” when I landed a "record" walleye on the break wall of Light House Park. It is a story that I love to tell. I do however, leave Mike to tell his version as it seems to become more exaggerated with each recitation.As we maneuvered the Cass River finding “honey hole” after “honey hole” the stress of the work week drifted far from my minds. The current rushing past us, the wildlife that surrounded us and the rhythm of our lines dancing across the water quickly replaced life’s realities that we had left behind.
A day on the Cass River with fish or no fish has been a great escape and a recommended “prescription for what ails you” according to master angler Mike Miller for some time. I would agree. With a successful catch or not, the sheer beauty that surrounded me while fishing on the Cass River left me with a feeling of the tranquility that I had been searching for. Donning the waders with rod in hand and spending my day on the Cass River, put life back into perspective and "cast away" my concerns of the world.
