A lifetime of steelhead fishing

A buck steelhead hovering over a spring spawning bed
photo c. Dave Richey Outdoors ©2012

A friend stopped by the other day with a buddy of his. The other gent wanted to meet me, and have a discussion about steelhead fishing.

It began mildly enough when we shook hands, and we made small talk for a few minutes. Then, in a burst of what seemed like pent-up anger, he questioned me about my steelhead fishing.

"You've written that you have caught 100 steelhead in one day, and another time you wrote that you'd probably landed nearly 10,000 steelhead in your life," he said. "I think both statements are a crock. No one can catch that many steelhead these days."

Mind you, this dude was a guest in my home. I didn't take kindly to his ranting insults, and that I might be lying.

I agree that he was probably right. It would be most difficult, if not impossible, these days to catch 1,000 steelhead in a lifetime. I also added that he must have missed something from both stories he had read. I learned long ago that people read what they want to read into a story, and then want to argue their mistakes when they are wrong.

"First of all, Bud, I wrote that two of us caught 100 steelhead in one day, and will gladly introduce you to the other man who has a much shorter fuse than mine," I said in an even voice. "Call him or me a liar, and you'll find a rocky time ahead."

"But ... but," he stammered. And I then told him it's not polite to interrupt someone when they are speaking. He quickly shut up.

I explained that the 100-fish day happened over 25 years ago, on a cold and snowy day with lots of wind, and most steelhead fishermen were home or working. We happened to find a big school of fish, and it seemed as none had eaten in a month. Every orange-colored fly we pitched to them resulted in a strike.

We quit fishing once with nearly 60 fish that we had caught and released unharmed. We went for breakfast, checked another stream, and headed back to the hotspot for a second round. We were up to about 85 fish when my buddy fell, got soaking wet and headed for the car and some welcome heat.

I envied him but there were more fish to hook

I stuck with it, caught what it took to hit 100 fish, and kept only one small male steelie that inhaled a fly through his mouth and was hooked in the gills from the inside. The fish was bleeding heavily and would die so I kept it.

And then, catching approximately 10,000 steelhead. I'm 73 now, and began steelhead fishing at age 11. By the time I was 15, I was catching between 100 and 200 steelies each year, and that was from the Sturgeon River between Indian River and Wolverine. Mind you, that was back in the early to mid-1950s.

By the time I was 18 in 1957, I was fishing even more often, and the fish numbers shot up to about 300 steelhead per year. Some of those fish were caught during a "temperature run" caused by Burt Lake fish seeking comfort in the cooler river water. Competition? There wasn't any.

By my mid-20s, I was fishing steelhead along the Lake Michigan shoreline. Favorite streams were the Betsie, Little Manistee and Platte rivers, and those rivers held lots of fish and very few anglers.

It was really amazing, and seldom would I keep a fish. I would have six or eight 30-fish days each year, and always put the fish back. A quick, hard fight, and a swift release and no harm to the fish.

I began guiding salmon and steelhead fishermen in 1967 when the spawning runs first began, and my clients cared nothing about steelhead. Everyone wanted salmon, so I'd give them lessons and once they learned how to cast, I'd "go check for other hot-spots." I always carried my Black Beauty fly rod, and I always looked for steelhead holding downstream of spawning salmon where they gobbled free-drifting salmon eggs.

Those fish were always caught and released, and I'd return often to check on my people and lead them to new batches of salmon. I guided for 10 years, spring and fall, and not once did my clients go home without a limit of fish. Not only was I the first fly-fishing wading guide in the state for anadromous browns, salmon and steelhead, but I pioneered this fishing and developed many of the tactics in common use today.

Whenever I had a free day, I would check rivers to keep track of the runs, and the best way to do that was to fish. There were countless days, especially in November and December when the rivers were full of steelhead and everyone else was deer hunting, working or at home, close to some heat. Those months can be brutal on a steelhead stream.

I could easily say I personally landed 400 to 500 steelhead each year during my guiding years, which would mean 4,000 to 5,000 fish during those 10 years. One also must remember the limit back then was five fish daily, and seldom a day passed without catching a limit. Again, perhaps 99 percent of those fish were released.

Steelhead laying on a spawning bed
photo c. Dave Richey Outdoors ©2012

Fish only for male fish

One also must remember that the big push by the Michigan Steelheader’s group really didn't get underway until the mid-1970s. Back then, people who had caught three or four steelhead in a lifetime were introducing their friends to the sport.

High steelhead numbers held through the early 1980s, and although I no longer was guiding, I was still fishing hard in the spring and fall. It was great: I'd fish for steelhead in the morning, and bow hunt for whitetails in the afternoon and early evening. It was great fun.

Do I know precisely how many steelhead I've landed? It was well over 8,000 steelhead by 1976 when I quit guiding. I know I've caught well over 2,000 fish since then, and if it hasn't reached 10,000 by now, I'd be very surprised.

I'd consider myself a fish hog and poacher if I'd kept everything I caught, but nearly all fish were released after a fast, spirited fight. Most spring steelhead are soft-fleshed and not tasty, and they don't freeze well. I only fished for male steelies in the spring, and never bothered fishing for the females. I avoided hooking the hens.

Nowadays, with my vision problems, I don't fish steelies as hard or nearly as often as I once did, and that is a good thing. Bowlers become expert by rolling 20 games or more each week, and steelhead fishermen become better anglers by fishing daily.

I courteously ushered the head-shaking gent to the door and on his way. I don't know if he believed any of this or not, and it really doesn't matter. All I know is that for many years the numbers of river steelhead far outnumbered the anglers who were qualified to fish for and catch them.

Those who could, did. Those who couldn't, bad-mouthed the hot sticks. There's nothing new about jealousy among anglers.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Looking forward to the trout opener

Sometimes I enjoy big-water fishing off the beach

Michigan's trout opener hits the waterways the last Saturday in April. Grear up for another great year of fishing.
photo Dave Richey ©2012

My memories of the general-season trout opener are strung out now over 60 years, back to those days when my late twin brother George and I would have a visual race. It was to see who would be the first to spot the Sturgeon River glinting through the late-April sunlight.

Spotting the river first was as much fun as hooking a fish. We would count down the days to the opener, and in those days, a desperate anticipation overcame us. We were ready, and had been primed for the opener for many lean months.

It became a visceral thing. We could feel it coming, and each check mark on the calendar brought us one day closer to when we could fish our beloved Sturgeon River between Wolverine and Indian River in Cheboygan County.

We could sense the thrill and excitement deep in our guts

We could easily remember the first cold chill of the river current gripping our skinny little legs. We'd pick the brain of George Yontz, the steelhead guru of Hillside Camp, three miles north of Wolverine on old M-27.

We had fresh six-pound line on our reel, sharp No. 6 or 8 Eagle Claw gold hooks, and carried our treasured jars of Atlas salmon eggs. They sold for a buck a jar in those days, but salmon eggs produced better than worms or other bait.

Those early days meant a limit catch of 10 trout per day, and the Wolverine Hatchery and its hatchery truck planted fish just before the opener. It took years of catching lots of small trout in Phase 1 of our trout-fishing education before we arrived at Phase 2. That was when we'd had enough of the tiddlers and wanted more than a flip-flopping small trout.

We were primed and ready. It was an adventure for us

We wanted bigger fish, and it wasn't long before we were catching our fair share of steelhead. That phase of catching big fish stuck with us for many years before we graduated to accepting the challenge of meeting and greeting our trout in tough places where catching any trout -- large or small -- was a difficult challenge.

Many opening days have passed with the speed of an old man racing headlong through life, each year passing even faster than the previous one. To think that 60 years have gone by, and I've been out there for every opener to capture the moment with fly rod, spinning rod of camera, is a testament to my devotion to these grand game fish.

There have been a few openers where the Blue Wing Olives and Hendrickson's hatched well, but more often, the opener produced high winds, rain, and very often snow, and the fishing wasn't worth beans.

Art Neumann of Saginaw always handled the countdown

However, trout fishing isn't all about catching fish. It means meeting old friends, discussing past openers, learning who had fished around their last bend, who was ill and couldn't fish, and where the hot-spots might be later in the day.

For 23 years I covered the opener for the newspaper, and that usually meant very little fishing. Sometimes, if the action was good, I could shoot photos and write my copy, and still have time to fish for an hour or two.

Trout fishing also was George's love, and we shared so many wonderful days together on so many Michigan streams, and each one brought both of us a sense of peace and tranquility. We often didn't talk because twins know what the other is thinking. It's true in many cases, and especially for us. We didn't need to speak.

George and I could always communicate without talking

Many times I'd nod my head, George would spot the Hendrickson lift off the surface, and we both marveled at this transformation from a nymph to a flying insect. Sometimes a grunt and a look would indicate a mink running the bank or the flash of a trout under a sweeper.

We spent so many years greeting the dawn somewhere on a trout stream. We both loved the Holy Waters of the AuSable and Manistee rivers, but sometimes we would be on a steelhead stream or fishing a back-of-beyond beaver pond. Tiny cedar-shrouded jump-across creeks and brook trout were on the agenda at times, and occasionally we would fly-fish trout lakes.

Trout fishing, unlike a sport where a score is kept, was much closer to being a deeply religious experience to us. It was something we felt strongly about, and although in George's later years he would rather fly fish for bluegills than trout, he never lost his love of trout, trout fishing and the places where these game fish live.

It's up to me to carry on that tradition alone or perhaps with my son, David. But even that is out of the question this year as he heads for Florida to fish for tarpon.

I still enjoy fishing alone, do so often

It's OK, because sometimes fishing alone puts a person in a much different mood. We become more humble, easily satisfied, and we thrill to the magic of a rise, and we always are blessed to just be there for one more trout opener.

And just think, we have less than two weeks before the state-wide season opens on the last Saturday in April. I don't know where I'll be, but it will be on trout water, somewhere. Bet on it!

What are the state's largest lakes?

Many of these lakes offer good ice-fishing for walleyes and perch.

The outdoors is much more than just fishing and hunting. There is a vast store of knowledge about various aspects that I know too little about, and I take pride in my knowledge.

For instance: one glaring error in my outdoor education is my knowledge of bushes and trees. Sure, I know what beech, birch, maple and oak trees and their leaves look like, but throw an oddball tree my way and ask me to identify it, I'm as lost as last year's Easter egg.

I started thinking today about a question one of my kids asked 30 years ago. David asked: "Dad, have you fished every lake and stream in the state?"

This blog had its beginnings years ago with a question by my son.

The answer then and still is "no." I've fished a good number of them over my 60 years of prowling this state, but there are many I haven't fished and may never try. Time is against me or most people who would try to accomplish such a daunting feat.

That thought brought me to today's topic. Someone emailed me this morning, and asked if I knew the largest inland lakes in the state. By sheer good fortune, I knew the five top lakes in terms of size, and could even name them in order; Houghton, Torch, Charlevoix, Burt and Mullett lakes. Beyond those five, I was lost and began doing some research.

An obscure DNR booklet named Michigan's 20 Largest Inland Lakes was found in a file cabinet, and the topic proved fascinating. Fifteen of the largest lakes are in the Lower Peninsula and five are in the Upper Peninsula.

What follows is that list, ranging from No. 1 to No. 20, the county or counties where they are found, the size in acres, and the miles of shoreline (which includes islands) around it.

1. Houghton Lake is in Roscommon County. It has 20,044 acres and has 30.0 miles of shoreline.
2. Torch Lake is located in Antrim and Kalkaska counties, and has 18,770 acres. There are 40.8 miles of shoreline.
3. Lake Charlevoix is in Charlevoix County. It has 17,260 acres, and the shoreline covers 56.0 miles.
4. Burt Lake is in Cheboygan County. It covers 18, 120 acres, and the shoreline measures 30.1 miles.
5. Mullett Lake also is in Cheboygan County. It has 16,630 acres, and the shoreline measures 31.6 miles.
6. Gogebic Lake, the Upper Peninsula's largest inland lake, is found in Gogebic and Ontonagon counties. It covers 13,380 acres, and has 34.4 miles of shoreline. This lake is great for walleyes except during the Hex hatch in June or July.
7. Big Manistique Lake, rests in Luce and Mackinac counties, and it is tied for 7th place with 10, 130 acres. It has 26.5 miles of Upper Peninsula shoreline.
8. Black Lake in Cheboygan and Presque Isle counties, also has 10, 130 acres. It has 18.7 miles of shoreline.
9. Crystal Lake in Benzie County is one of the state's most beautiful lakes. It has 9,711 acres and 20.8 miles of shoreline.
10. Portage Lake in Houghton County was one of the last strongholds for sauger in this state. Fisheries biologists feel the sauger have disappeared. The lake has 9, 640 acres with 55.9 miles of shoreline.
11. Higgins Lake in Crawford and Roscommon counties has 9,000 acres. It has 21 miles of shoreline.
12. Fletcher Floodwaters is located in Alpena and Montmorency counties. It has 8,970 acres with 24.7 shoreline miles.
13. Hubbard Lake is located in Alcona County. It has 8,850 acres and 19.3 miles of frontage on the lake.
14. North and South Lakes Leelanau in Leelanau County covers 8,320 acres. It has 40.2 miles of shoreline.
15. Indian Lake is found in Schoolcraft County. It has an even 8,000 acres with 16.7 miles of shoreline.
16. Elk Lake in Antrim and Grand Traverse counties has 7,730 surface acres. It measures 25.8 miles around the lake.
17. Michigamme Reservoir is located in Iron County. It features 7,200 acres but has 78.0 miles of shoreline.
18. Glen Lake in Leelanau County includes the east and west basins, and covers 6,285 surface acres. It only has 17.0 miles of shoreline.
19. Grand Lake in Presque Isle County. It covers 6,660 acres with 35.5 miles of shoreline.
20. Long Lake in Alpena and Presque Isle counties has 5,652 acres. It has 25.3 miles of shoreline.

All 20 lakes provide good fishing. Try fishing each one.

Keep this list handy, and it can settle any type of bar bet or resolve discussions with other anglers about lakes and sizes.

Love each day to its fullest and be happy

Walleye fishing was a joint adventure when we fished like this.

A number of people who have been near and dear to me may have taken life for granted at one time or another. Most of them, in the final days of their life, realized their mistake.

In other situations, some of us don't take things for granted, but life can still step up and blind-side us.

None of us are infallible, and none of us are invincible, no matter how strongly we believe it. Life can begin and end on a moment's notice.

My life has been blessed in many ways, and I took my vision for granted until I began losing it. Now, every day is a precious commodity to be wisely considered and lived with a fervent passion.
The problem is that none of us know how much time we have to live. My father, who died of old age, had prostate cancer for years. It didn't kill him but 94 years of life did.

Twin brother George lived life to its fullest. He did nearly everything in life he really wanted to, and learned on a Saturday that he had incurable cancer and he died the following Wednesday.

He didn't go to his Maker kicking and screaming. Hours before he passed away, he told me: "I have no regrets. I've lived a good life, and now I'm ready to go."

A good friend of mine died two days later in Oregon. He had made it through perhaps ten years in a wheelchair, and died after having lived a full life before a stroke kept him from walking.

Brother George had seven different kinds of cancer, and his pain levels were mild compared to that of others. Why does this happen? Why do so many people die of this disease in agonizing misery?

My aunt, who died years ago at the age of 84, was a very religious woman. She never smoked or drank, but battled cancer for many years. She attended church two or three times a week, and still the disease finally wore her down.

My first wife died at the age of 40 from cancer. She didn't visit the doctor as often as she should have, but no one should die such a painful and undignified death.

Three good friends died early. Two had families, but died of self-inflicted gun-shot wounds. Only one was physically ill, and he had inoperable cancer and chose his own time of death.

All of these people, with the exception of the two suicides, had cancer. It wreaked havoc on their bodies, and in the end, the pain and the debilitating effects of chemotherapy and radiation probably hastened their demise.

My good friend, Fred Houghton, a friend since childhood, died quietly. He loved to fish for walleyes and yellow perch on Saginaw Bay, was married the second time about four years ago, and kept himself in great shape.

Physical conditioning doesn't bar the way to cancer. It can come calling, as it did with him, and now my old friend is gone. I remember many fishing days from when we both went to Clio High School, and we spent many days over many years hunting ducks and geese.

He lived a good life, retired fairly early, and had everything going his way except for a cancer he didn't know he had until it required surgery. He was pronounced cancer-free, as he told me several months before his death, but the disease took him from us all too soon.

I attended a birthday party for a friend who just turned 90 years old. I've thought about him and another 90-year-old friend all day, remembering their contributions to my success as a photographer and writer.

I remember while duck hunting on Wigwam Bay near Standish in the late 1950s, when brother George and I were hunting from a sneak boat. My childhood buddy was hunting in the cattails, got cold and tried to climb into our boat.

It didn't work, and the boat finally sank beneath the waves as he tried to clamber aboard. I was the only one without waders (who knows why) but I went down with the ship, and got soaking wet and cold during an early November storm.

My buddy always had a much different version of that story, and we argued long and hard about the merits of his or my version. But the boat went down, and in a good-natured way, I always told him it was his fault. He blamed me, and we both had a good laugh about me getting wet.

That story, now that he is gone, was part of the glue that held us together as friends for over 60 years. As is so true with all of us, one day we will all have run our race.

Fred's race sadly ended early, and I shall cherish his memory and that of my brother and father. He was a good man, a kind and considerate friend, and cancer took him much too early.

I will miss my dear friends, family and relatives. They are gone, and those of us who remain, are stuck with memories. Enjoy them for memories are meant to be cherished, and leave the sadness behind where it belongs.

Why do we love trout water?

This angler caught this 18-pound brown trout from Little Bay de Noc.

Anglers for centuries have touted the mental and sporting values of trout fishing. But what is it we love so much that makes many anglers dream all winter about catching these lake and river game fish? Why, for goodness sake, would any person count down the days to the opener?
Why are 10-inch trout prizes to be cherished? Why should people spend good money to buy fine tackle just to catch a small trout and then release it? Or, on the other hand, why would anglers gloat over a 10-pound brown trout or a 14-pound steelhead?
What is it about this game fish that stirs our cerebral juices, captures our thoughts and engages our soul on a day like this, one day past the general statewide trout opener? It’s just one of many questions that trout anglers attempt to rationalize as they tour Michigan’s greatest trout lakes and streams.

Sometimes one would think there are more questions here than answers.

What follows are just a few of today’s idle thoughts that have made me wonder about my 60-year trout-fishing love affair. There are many thoughts that arise from trout openers I’ve enjoyed since the early 1950s.
Think long and hard on trout, and make a list of some of your favorite trout fishing thoughts. One often will find that the experiences, sights, sounds, and other sensory perceptions are far more important at the end of a fishing day than the fish we’ve caught. Here are just a handful of reasons why trout captured my soul more than a half-century ago.

• These beautiful, colorful and fragile game fish are the canaries in our environmental coal mine. They are a key barometer of our times. What harms trout can't be good for humans, and when these species are gone forever, can our civilization be very far behind? It’s something to think about.
• Brook trout are the prettiest of all. They come in four sizes: tiny, small, legal-size and lunker, each with an array of spotted beauty that hints of wild places that stir our senses. With their tiny blue spots, and white piping along the outside edge of orange fins, brook trout take first-place in any fishy beauty pageant. I look at a trout, all smooth-skinned, and painted up in all their finery, and the sight takes my breath away.

Trout fishing is easy, hard or nearly impossible based on personal restrictions.

• Trout respond well to a careful approach and a delicate delivery. Fancy waders and top-of-the-line rods, reels and nets do not impress Michigan’s char and trout clan. They feed when hungry, fast when not, and nothing we do can or will change this pattern.
• Trout inhabit some of the state’s most beautiful places. They live in a land of towering pine and spruce, beaver ponds, impenetrable cedar swamps, sparkling streams, gurgling meadow brooks, remote Upper Peninsula rivers dotted with waterfalls -- all such places are home to lake and stream trout, and humans are nothing more than infrequent visitors to their world.

As such, it behooves anglers to put back more trout than we keep. Conservation of wild trout means joining and backing such organizations as Trout Unlimited, who fight for our fish and their special environment.
Their needs include clean water and an environment that is friendly to the fish. They are truly game fish worth fighting for.

• I fish because of soft dimpling rises, blanket hatches, selective trout, wild places, stream-side camaraderie with other like-minded fishermen, wild fish and the history and romance of trout fishing. Trying to outwit these game fish is for the thinking angler, not a gluttonous fisherman intent only on a full creel.

Anglers should fish for trout for many other reasons than to just catch fish.

• One last and untapped trout bastions are our inland lakes. Such waters produce robust fish, and for those who learn lake-fishing secrets, the rewards can be many and great. Huge trout are taken from inland lakes that seldom, if ever, see a bait, fly or lure. These lake-dwelling trout are a thrill to catch, and doing so requires specialized skills.
• My familiarity with trout forces me to fight for them and to proceed in a manner that gives each fish every advantage and opportunity to escape. Trout fishing means much more than a limit catch. This sport is and always should be a major challenge.
• Seldom are trout kept. Trout deserve to be caught more than once, but on occasion I will keep a few small but legal ones for the frying pan. My thoughts are that big trout should be allowed to spawn and reproduce, and small ones should be released as gently as possible to avoid harming them.
• There are places where brook trout live that rarely see a fisherman. These fish are naïve, easily caught, and some anglers take advantage of this small failing. Often, in such areas, the area may be over-fished in one day by a greedy angler. Catching a limit, day after day, doesn’t prove an angler is a good one.
• For years it’s been my practice to fish those back-of-beyond spots where brook trout hold at the base of a root-flooded cedar. Such black swamps have produced numerous sightings of bear and deer as I slip slowly from tree to tree, dapping a fly or single-hook wee spinner in the water between tree roots. The fish come hard to fly or lure, are easily hooked, and quickly released without taking them from the water.
• I have a problem with those who regard trout fishing as a social event. The fish are not impressed by our homes or the cost of our cars, so why clutter a stream with people who are there only to impress clients or other fishermen with fancy creels, fly rods and vests?
• People go through three trout fishing phases. 
  • The FIRST is to catch as many fish as possible; 
  • The SECOND is to catch the largest trout possible; 
  • The THIRD is to exact a challenge from trout and tackle while giving the fish every chance to get away.

Trout fishermen go through distinct trout-fishing phases.

• I'm in Stage No. 3, but can remember as a kid passing through stages 1 and 2. It's easy to remember the heavy catches, huge fish and the bragging of yesteryear, and I'm ashamed by the number of big trout taken during my earlier years. But those days are long gone, and my efforts now are far less than my heavy catches of 30-50 years ago.
• For 10 years, guiding trout fishermen was my life and a major way to make a living. The hours were long and hard, the weather sometimes bitterly cold, and although memories of those days with large numbers of browns and steelhead still linger, they foster no strong feelings that make me want to return to that way of life. It was a tough way to make a living, pay bills and put cooked groceries on the table.
• I fish for trout now because I want to, not to prove anything to myself or to others. I fish because of the tremendous enjoyment it brings, and the challenge of hooking trout from difficult places with tackle that gives every edge to these game fish.
• I now fish for trout because fishing can sooth a troubled soul. It energizes tired fishermen, and it provides me with something I deeply love and something to look forward to in beautiful areas where it's not necessary to rub shoulders with other anglers. It offers me peace and solitude in a world of turmoil and unpleasant things.

That's me. A guy with simple ideals and needs that continue to make me very happy. And just think: an eight-inch brook trout can make me feel great for weeks on end.
No amount of money, big house or fancy ride, can do that for me.
Running water, cold water, wild places and wild fish, are why trout make me feel good in a way that I’ve tried to explain but find it impossible to convey any better than this. So, if you’ll excuse me now, I’ve had my say and now have a date with a trout river.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Michigan’s 20 largest inland lakes

Big pike are found in all 20 of these lakes. Fish near submerged weedbeds.

The outdoors is much more than just fishing and hunting. There is a vast store of knowledge about various aspects that I know too little about, and I take pride in my knowledge.

For instance: one glaring error in my outdoor education is my knowledge of bushes and trees. Sure, I know what beech, birch, maple and oak trees and their leaves look like, but throw an oddball tree my way and ask me to identify it, I'm as lost as last year's Easter egg.

I started thinking today about a question one of my kids asked 30 years ago. David asked: "Dad, have you fished every lake and stream in the state?"

A probing question from my oldest son.

The answer then and still is "no." I've fished a good number of them over my half-century of prowling this state, but there are many I haven't fished and may never try. Time is against me or most people who would try to accomplish such a daunting feat.

That thought brought me to today's topic. Someone emailed me this morning, and asked if I knew the largest inland lakes in the state. By sheer good fortune, I knew the five top lakes in terms of size, and could even name them in order; Houghton, Torch, Charlevoix, Burt and Mullett lakes. Beyond those five, I was lost and began doing some intense research.

An obscure DNR booklet named Michigan's 20 Largest Inland Lakes was found tucked away in a file cabinet, and the topic proved fascinating. Fifteen of the largest lakes are in the Lower Peninsula and five are found in the Upper Peninsula.

What follows is that list, ranging from No. 1 to No. 20, the county or counties where they are found, the size in acres, and the miles of shoreline (which includes islands) around it.

*1. Houghton Lake is in Roscommon County. It has 20,044 acres and has 30.0 miles of shoreline.

*2. Torch Lake is located in Antrim and Kalkaska counties, and has 18,770 acres. There are 40.8 miles of shoreline.

Some lakes have more shoreline miles because of points and other land features.

*3. Lake Charlevoix is in Charlevoix County. It has 17,260 acres, and the shoreline covers 56.0 miles.

*Burt Lake is in Cheboygan County. It covers 18, 120 acres, and the shoreline measures 30.1 miles.

*5. Mullett Lake also is in Cheboygan County. It has 16,630 acres, and the shoreline measures 31.6 miles.

*6. Gogebic Lake, the Upper Peninsula's largest inland lake, is found in Gogebic and Ontonagon counties. It covers 13,380 acres, and has 34.4 miles of shoreline.

*7. Big Manistique Lake, rests in Luce and Mackinac counties, and it is tied for 7th place with 10, 130 acres. It has 26.5 miles of Upper Peninsula shoreline.

*8. Black Lake in Cheboygan and Presque Isle counties, also has 10, 130 acres. It has 18.7 miles of shoreline.

*9. Crystal Lake in Benzie County is one of the state's most beautiful lakes. It has 9,711 acres and 20.8 miles of shoreline.

*10. Portage Lake in Houghton County was one of the last strongholds for sauger in this state. Fisheries biologists feel the sauger have disappeared. The lake has 9, 640 acres with 55.9 miles of shoreline.

*]11. Higgins Lake in Crawford and Roscommon counties has 9,000 acres. It has 21 miles of shoreline.

*12. Fletcher Floodwaters is located in Alpena and Montmorency counties. It has 8,970 acres with 24.7 shoreline miles.

*13. Hubbard Lake is located in Alcona County. It has 8,850 acres and 19.3 miles of frontage on the lake.

I’ve fish all 20 of Michigan’s largest lakes. It’s always fun learning a new lake.

*14. North and South Lakes Leelanau in Leelanau County covers 8,320 acres. It has 40.2 miles of shoreline.

*15. Indian Lake is found in Schoolcraft County. It has an even 8,000 acres with 16.7 miles of shoreline.
*16. Elk Lake in Antrim and Grand Traverse counties has 7,730 surface acres. It measures 25.8 miles around the lake.

*17. Michigamme Reservoir is located in Iron County. It features 7,200 acres but has 78.0 miles of shoreline.

*18. Glen Lake in Leelanau County includes the east and west basins, and covers 6,285 surface acres. It only has 17.0 miles of shoreline.

*19. Grand Lake in Presque Isle County. It covers 6,660 acres with 35.5 miles of shoreline.

*20. Long Lake in Alpena and Presque Isle counties has 5,652 acres. It has 25.3 miles of shoreline.

Keep this list handy, and it can settle any type of bar bet or resolve discussions with other anglers.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors