I admit, in the past, I didn't always look forward to Christmas. It usually meant traveling up to 2 hours further into suburbia, and spending the day with relatives I see only a couple times a year. It wasn't my ideal way to spent Christmas. Since the passing of my Grandparents, our family has sort of split into our own Christmas traditions. Its a natural progression that seems to take place when the eldest remaining survivors of the family tree change. We now spent Christmas at my parents' place in the Northern Michigan woods. I much look forward to Christmas these days. As a result of the new Christmas base camp, my brothers and I started another new tradition, fishing for steelhead on December 25th. We agreed if the local river wasn't frozen, we would fish. That was the only stipulation. Christmas eve went as normal. Each part of the family arrived throughout the day, the tree was decorated, and the youngest members of the family ran and crawled about the house. After spending a few hours unsuccessfully hunting deer, we spent the remainder of the evening eating a roasted wild turkey, drinking a few beers, and BSing. Things took a turn south around 2am when I started feeling the effects of a stomach bug. I spent the better part of Christmas day emptying the contents of my stomach from just about anywhere it wanted to come out. I missed the breakfast spread and the opening of the presents. Things were not looking so great. As afternoon approached, and I was still feeling miserable, my brothers started to wonder if I could make it fishing. I decided to finally get up and moving around 11 am. The kids wanted to go sleeding and I hoped some fresh air would help. The cool northern air seems to cure just about anything. I started to feel a little better, until I went back inside and smelled lunch cooking. The smell of food wasn't settling very well with me. While the tradition of fishing on Christmas day is somewhat a young one for us, I didn't want to be the one to break it. I knew my Mom would soon start the processs of cooking a fine Christmas dinner, and the house would soon be filled with a smell I would normally enjoy. Not so much this year. I decided the best option was to suck it up and go fishing. So thats what we did. Once at the access point, I was slow to get ready. Any quick movements might result in removing any possible contents left in my stomach. I finally told them to go ahead and that I would catch up. I knew they would go to one of two spots to start, and I followed the fresh tracks in the snow. I sat on the bank and observed. The fresh air and moving water tricked my mind into believing I was feeling better. After both of my brothers nymphed the first hole, I decided I would rig up and swing through it. I got about half way through with a sculpin pattern before hanging up on the bottom. That was the end of that fly, and I made my way back to the bank to retie. Armed with a black and purple spey, I started at the top again. A few casts later, as I stood their in a swinging trance combined with lack of sleep, I was awoken by a decent pull. A few steps and cast later, I got a much more aggressive pull that was quickly followed by another. This time, she was heading downstream with it. I tightened up on her and she immediately went airborn. A few runs towards the many pieces of wood that line the river, followed by a short run downstream, and I finally had my first steelhead of the fall. A pretty little gal. Merry Christmas to me. Its funny how one fish can cure just about anything. Despite feeling like I would vomit immediately after releasing the fish, my energy level picked up. I suddenly forget how terrible my Christmas day had started. We had about an hour left to fish, so we head upstream to the next spot. It doesn't take long for a wet fly to freeze in mid 20s temps and breezy north wind. Same dead buck from a few weeks ago, now in a swallow grave of snow. My brothers worked the next pool from top to bottom, with nothing to show for their efforts. I sat in the snow, still buzzing from the fish dumb enough to strike my offering. My younger brother had one more decent pull on the same fly, but the fish never returned. Christmas 2010 is in the books, and I'm already looking forward to next year. Its a tradition we hope will remain strong and last for many years to come. We also hope that the future generation will one day join, and carry on, the tradition of fishing in Northern Michigan on Christmas Day. The future. Go Tigers!
Gotta love traditions. I bet you guys are already looking forward to next year. Glad Christmas turned out good for you. Great photos as always.
At least you can catch fish... If you left it all up to college football and bowhunting you'd be screwed.
Thanks everyone. Feeling a little better today. Sat out this evening and didn't see a deer. Been a rough season all around, but I can usually count on the late season no matter how bad the early season was.. Just a humbling hunting year I guess. Yeah...well...uh...I got nothing.
Great pictures and thanks for sharing. You must be sick... to not have nothing in response to Buckeye. LOL Hope you get feeling better. Tim
