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Floating on Muskegon River yields bountiful harvest of winter trout
Friday, January 20, 2006
By Howard Meyerson
Press Outdoors Editor

NEWAYGO -- It was 41 degrees, gray and sprinkling when Jay Koehler and I set off from Thornapple landing for a float down the Muskegon River looking for winter steelhead.

Local meteorologists were calling for rain, high winds, even thundershowers and, later, snow. At 33.5 degrees, the river was cold and the fish lethargic. But if that wasn't enough, it also was Friday the 13th. Some would have called it a recipe for disaster.

"It's not going to be November fishing," Koehler said with a laugh, referring to warmer fall conditions in which the fish are active, chasing lures and still feeding. Koehler, my host for the day, is the co-owner of All-Seasons Guide Service in Kentwood.

And he would turn out to be right. It would not be November fishing at all. We wouldn't see a steelhead the entire day.

But it would prove to be a day full of winter trout -- nice chunky, colorful rainbows and browns.

"That one is a toad," Koehler exclaimed when I hooked, landed and released my first at 10:15 a.m. It was the first of three nice fish I'd take.

"That's a nice rainbow. It's got to be 14 inches," Koehler said.

Of course Koehler, who guides in Alaska during summer and began building his guide business two years ago, could afford to be enthusiastic. He'd already landed and released five rainbows and browns, running from 10 to 13 inches.

There would be at least eight more before a bone-chilling downpour would force us off the river three hours later. In the meantime, we'd find a comfortable shelter when we needed it by stepping inside the vinyl cabin on his 18-foot riverboat equipped with a 105-horsepower jet.

"The thing that is so strange about this day is that the trout are biting and you usually catch steelhead when that happens because they feed, too. Koehler had hoped to wake up the big fish with a handful of spawn cast into the run, a technique known as chumming, practiced by a fair number of anglers.

"It helps get them started on a cold day," said Koehler.

The idea was to stimulate their feeding.

Then we'd follow the loose spawn with fresh spawn sacks of our own, four eggs in a tiny mesh bag, simply stuck on a hook and drifted down the best-looking run under a float. If the float dipped, you set the hook.

"The float method is very effective for spawn," said Koehler, 29, who works as a sales rep for his father's collection business in St. John when he isn't fishing. "It travels at the same speed as the current and looks much more natural. It also allows you to fish longer runs from a single position."

Which is how it was for most of this day. Koehler and I would anchor off the upstream end of a run and cast into the current and simply let the bobber float. Some runs easily were 200 feet long. After awhile, we'd lift anchor, drop downstream a bit and try again.

While I fished a standard 10-foot rod with a spinning reel, Koehler used a 15-foot, light-action rod equipped with a centre-pin reel, which looks like a fly reel but has no drag. Stopping a steelhead becomes a matter of deft palm pressure.

"The longer rod allows you to control your drift and lift and mend your line better," said Koehler, who started his guide business with his fiance, Nancy Kim. The couple hope to develop it into a year-round business, taking clients out for trout, salmon and steelhead or wildlife viewing and color tours.

Mending is a crucial part of the technique. The most natural drift occurs when the line floats behind the float. It is easy when casting to the side to get a belly in the line that will pull the float out of the run.

"The technique is crucial in this weather when the fish are lethargic," Koehler said. "You want to float it right by them in slow water or under a log."

Koehler spaces his float about seven feet from the hook. It can be shifted up or down depending on the average depth. He tries to float the spawn just off the bottom.

Four or five lead split shot are spread evenly out along the line between the float and hook. That way the spawn always drops deeper as the bottom depths change.

"Fishing at this time of year can be fantastic," he said, pulling out yet another rainbow, this one running about 13 inches. "But a lot of people don't think of it."

To be sure. There were only a handful of anglers on the river this day, a river that is well known for its winter fishing. Of course, thunderstorms, high-winds, rain and snow might have had something to do with it.