It was one of those days where we just wanted to go exploring... with the float tubes and fly rods of course. The morning consisted of lots of coffee, maps, DNR lake reports, and idle talk without reaching any conclusions. The clock was ticking and if we wanted to have time for anything this day we needed to make a decision on which lake and what species. After reviewing half a dozen small lakes on the map I finally said to my father, "Get your stuff together we're going for splake." Not an obvious choice for early August flyrodding. Maybe even slightly insane. Splake are crosses between brook trout and lake trout; and, as a result like very cold well oxygenated water. Ah, but I found a little lake. One of those manageably sized lakes that are spring fed and not so deep that even a fast sinking fly line can't get to them. In fact, this was a little lake with lots of splake, few fisherman, and far from anything. A lake I'll call Ricky Splake... and I hear it's nice this time of year.
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| Hiking in to Ricky Splake. |
Once at the trailhead we unloaded our Fish Cats and put on their accessory back-pack straps. Then, all the items we needed: waders, fins, nets, etc. got lashed into the float tube void spaces and secured for the hike. After a couple splashes of bug dope we put on our float tubes, grabbed our fly rods, and started the rough hike in. The hike was quite nice taking us over exposed canadian shield rock outcrops and through northern white cedar and pine forests. The wind was absolutely still and the conifers steamed in the sun emitting a wonderful pine scent.
Before long, we descended a steep rocky hill to the lake. And there it was... Ricky Splake. Like little kids we struggled against time getting our gear unpacked and on us. We'd rather be fishing than putting on waders and fins. But, first things first... we'll get there. With everything donned we found a nice flat rock outcrop gradually sinking into the lake. This would be a good spot to launch. From here, we carefully put in--the rock was slippery--and we kicked our float tubes out to prospect for splake.
The old man got hits right away as he entered the middle of the lake. This was encouraging. Then, to my amazement, large trout were surfacing everywhere: in the shallow weeds, in the middle, a few feet from the tube. Mind you, it's early August... and these are splake. Previously, I have only caught splake on fly in the very early spring when they become gulpers on chironomids. To see splake rising all around us was fantastic! So we shortened up our sinking lines to 30 feet or so and began trolling our wooly buggers and damselfly nymphs along the drop offs. It didn't take long.
The first fish was a rambunctious 13-incher. It was just loosing its parr markings and had beautiful white edges to its fins. The fish was pure char. And, this brings me to my issue with the name splake. Really? Can we not do better naming such a beautiful fish of savory parentage? The origin of splake is derived from the Canadien name for brook trout, "Speckled Trout" or "Specs"; which is then "crossed" with the "lake" in lake trout to get splake. Seriously, we can do better. The fish is beautiful and reminds me of the Dolly Varden trout I used to catch in Southeast Alaska. Now, that's a fish that received a name for it's appearance; and the story of it's origin goes as follows written by Valerie Masson Gomez in 1974:
My grandmother's family operated a summer resort at Upper Soda Springs on the Sacramento River just north of the present town of Dunsmuir, California. She lived there all her life and related to us in her later years her story about the naming of the Dolly Varden trout. She said that some fisherman were standing on the lawn at Upper Soda Springs looking at a catch of the large trout from the McCloud River that were called "Calico Trout" because of their spotted, colorful markings. They were saying that the trout should have a better name. My grandmother, then a young girl of 15 or 16, had been reading Charles Dickens' Barnaby Rudge in which there appears a character named Dolly Varden; also the vogue in fashion for women at that time (middle 1870s) was called "Dolly Varden", a dress of sheer figured muslin worn over bright-colored petticoat. My grandmother had just gotten a new dress in that style and the red-spotted trout reminded her of her printed dress. She suggested to the men looking down at the trout, "Why not call them 'Dolly Varden'?" They thought it a very appropriate name and the guests that summer returned to their homes (many in the San Francisco Bay area) calling the trout by this new name. (Dolly Varden Trout from Wikipedia).
Okay, so like a contemporary version of the fisherman in the 1870s looking at the "calico trout" I too think this fish, the splake, should have a better name. Perhaps something like the "Minnesota Char"... but Michigan and Wisconsin also are big fans of this man-made char. The fish is rather dark... so maybe the "Black Char"? Or, the "Minnigansin Char"? Names anyone?? I like calling it a char rather than a trout... at least we should get this right--unlike our predecessors who erroneously named the brook trout and lake trout, which are really char. And, I do like the geographic association started by the naming of the "Arctic Char" and "Arctic Grayling". So, perhaps, we just go with the "Michigan Char" and call it a day. The name generally places the fish species in the Upper Midwest slash Great Lakes Region. And, the fact that overfishing, poor land management, and pollution sent the Michigan Grayling the way of the... well, the Michigan Grayling, we can fill a void created by previous human greed and stupidity and Michigan gets to yet again have a fish named after it. Michigan Char it is; unless anyone can do better.
Okay, back to fishing. Despite all the rising splake... ahhh, I mean Michigan Char, there really wasn't much hatch activity. I observed some caddis, sulphurs, callibaetis spinners, and terrestrials (like bees and such). But, the one stand out were damselflies. Lots of them. Small bright blue ones. So, this steered me to a damselfy nymph pattern and they really liked it... until I lost it on a big spla... Michigan Char. But, my father didn't have such bad luck and managed to bring in a real nice deep bodied 18-incher.
And, then my camera died. I could go on telling more of the story but really it only includes catching more 14-inch and up splake (Michigan Char) on fly rod in the middle of the dog days. Size 6 black Wooly Buggers really did the trick. So, I'll end here. Except one more thing... the name of the lake. I really didn't like that either. So, we'll just stick with calling it Ricky Splake. I hear it's nice there this time of year.
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| I'm a Michigan Char from Ricky Splake... unless you got a better name for me. |
