The Old Au Sable Fly Shop Fishing Report
Well, when you live in the North it’s only a matter of time before winter turns tough and Arctic air dumps into the Great Lakes Region. There’s a beauty of a deep freeze settling in. The snow will be squeaky when daytime high temperatures just tickle single digits.
So, you do what you’ve learned over the years of living around the forty fifth parallel—you hunker down. You fill the wood box and the gas tanks and you dig out indoor projects that will get you prepared for milder times. I’ll put the scope on my new to me Winchester Model 70. And I’ll tackle home ownership one small project at a time. There’s always some paint to touch up or a new light fixture to install or that one little piece of nagging trim that needs attention. And there are always flies that have to get tied.
There’s a rhythm to our outdoorsmen seasons. To get behind the vice, for me, as a long-time production tyer, nearly has to be forced. Once you turn a hobby into a job, the thought of it can feel like just like work. Fifteen below zero is just the fulcrum I need to ease the effort. The new vice is set up and the feathers are ready and willing. Now the spirit is forced upon me. It’ll feel great to start spinning feathers and twisting fur and filling the empty buckets.
In years past I used to play old, favorite movies in the background of my fly tying. Movies that you knew every word. They were the best—you always knew when to put down the bobbin and watch the quintessential scene that you just had to see—the funny or scary part. It’s still a great way to attack the task, but now podcasts and YouTube videos play a heavy hand. Thankfully, there is still favorite music (on cd’s for me) to daydream into. When I get my fly-tying chops dialed, daydreaming comes easy and the next thing I know, there’s a few dozen of the bugs wadded up in bunches on the bench.
Sub-zero temps mean leave the trout alone. They’ve got it tough enough anyway. This week seek wilderness in a daydream.