Rain can produce good fishing

Many people who live around Traverse City know that when it rains hard, and the water level in the Little Betsie River rises, it washes worms into Green Lake.

The author (left above) plays a jumping brown trout,.

There have been times in the spring when the worms washed out of the banks of the swamp, and when they are swept under the little bridge on Diamond Park Road in Interlochen, there would be basketball-sized wads of worms drifting down to the waiting fish.

I’d wade down the tiny creek, reach down into the water for my bait, and hook the worm lightly through the nose. I’d cast it out on 4-pound line without weight, and as it washed over the steep dropoff into Green Lake’s deep water, a brown trout would nail the worm.

I seemed to have had that secret spot to myself until more people moved into the Interlochen Arts Academy, and soon I’d have others fishing there beside we. We treated each other with respect, and if the browns were biting, we’d catch a bunch of fish.

I can write about that little spot now because browns are no longer being planted in Green Lake although some lake trout have been. I suspect it would still pay off with other game fish now, and a few years ago I caught a 5 1/2-pound smallmouth bass there along with several others of lesser size.

The West Branch of the Sturgeon River was somewhat similar in its downstream reaches, and it was a veritable gold mine for trout. I could catch brookies, browns and rainbows there during a soft rain. If it rained too hard, the shallow stream would be pelted hard and most of the trout headed back under the river banks to wait out the storm.

This hotspot was lost to homes & road improvement.

The upper part of the West Branch of the Sturgeon River, several miles south and west of Wolverine, was a hotspot for brookies. One would fish between their feet in the little jump-across creek. The small brook trout would hold among the root wads, and the water was gin clear and very cold. A rain upstream seemed to put the fish on the prod, and it produced some spectacular fishing.

That area is now all built up with homes and no trespassing signs, and although it may still hold a few brook trout, it’s not worth the hassle of trying to stay in the creek and not trespass on someone’s land.

There have been countless other days when a good rain put the trout on the feed. I remember one evening right at dark when I waded slowly down the upper Rifle River near Selkirk, and was fishing a four-inch Rapala on a tight line as the stream grew dark and closed in around me.

The Rapala was flipped up tight to the far bank and rain drops trickled down my back, and I closed my open-face spinning reel. I took two or three turns on the reel handle, and a brown trout of great length and girth inhaled the lure and the hooks were buried.

This was a fish around which legends are made and fishing dreams are made. It was well over 10-pounds, and even though I was using 8-pound line, it didn’t seem strong enough. That fish rolled on the surface, and headed downstream.
Losing a big brown trout.
I’d been down through this stretch many times and knew where to wade. I stayed close to the fish, jacked him around whenever it seemed possible to gain some leverage, and we were still at it when we passed under a bridge in the darkness. Fortunately, I was able to steer him away from the bridge pilings.

We made it another 200 yards downstream, and by now the after-dark fight had covered nearly a half-mile of river, and the stream was barely lit by a quarter-moon. The wheels fell off this brown trout parade when he hung the line on a wood stob protruding just out of the water.

I eased out slowly. and had just reached the line on the wood, when the big fish made a thunderous splash near a shoreline brush pile. I knew he had woven my line around the drowned branches, and the line popped with a crack like a .22 rifle going off.

Me and rain have always been buddies on the trout streams. I knew that when the rain fell, worms and other critters would wash into the river, and it turns the stream into a smorgasbord of food for large fish. When it begins raining about dark, forget about watching sleep-robbers on television.

Grab a rod, some bait or lures, and head for the closest river. You might be surprised at what you might catch.