Back to Heaven...Sylvania Wilderness Area calls anglers
By Seth Steinhauer
The 2012 crew from left to right: JJ Emerich, Jim Liddicoat, Joey Gillis, Chase Balweg, Graham Steinhauer, Gregg Steinhauer, Seth Steinhauer.
For those of you who love the outdoors, the Sylvania Wilderness Area should be at the top of your list for places to visit in the Midwest. Located near Watersmeet Michigan, Sylvania offers outdoor enthusiasts an unmatched opportunity to canoe, hike, and fish in a truly spectacular surrounding. The 20,000 acre wilderness holds 34 lakes with abundant populations of bass, pike, walleye, panfish, and trout.
Since 2008, a close group of friends and I have made the trip to Watersmeet for a chance to relax, catch up, and of course, to fish. Every trip has provided us with those special memories that you never forget; something you can really appreciate and experience nowhere else. This trip was no exception.
After three quarters of a mile, I could finally see the sparkling blue lake from underneath my canoe. I ignored the shooting pains in my shoulders and pushed on to the end of the portage.
It felt as if I had never left this place. Every tree and lily pad in the small bay was exactly as I remembered it. I hoped the fishing hadn’t changed either. As I looked out over the bay, a huge smallie rose to the surface, taking with it all of my worries, stress, and doubts.
By 11 a.m. we had camp set and were soaking our lines. It wasn’t long before I boated the first fish of the trip; an 18 inch smallie that looked like a soccer ball. Some places produce smallies like footballs, but in Sylvania they’re soccer balls. Several more smallmouths followed, along with a pike that broke off next to the boat.
One of many doubles with Jim Liddicoat fishing topwaters for smallies.
After a few hours of great fishing, it was time to go on another adventure. A good friend of mine, JJ Emerich, had just earned his commercial pilot’s license and was meeting us at a private airport just north of camp.
We watched him execute a perfect landing, loaded his gear, got in the truck, and headed back to the lake for an evening of unforgettable fishing
Jim Liddicoat and I decided to check out a sunken island on the south side of the lake. Jim was throwing a plastic shad, while I was trying my luck with large streamer flies. We caught a few bass, but fishing was slower than usual. It didn’t take long to figure out why.
I had been looking down into the gin clear water, mesmerized by the giant boulders on the bottom of the lake, when I noticed a mayfly on the surface next to the canoe. The next thing I knew, we were engulfed in a cloud of the pale yellow insects. The surface of the lake was suddenly boiling with fish of all kinds slurping mayflies.
Jim switched to a popper and on his first cast landed a huge smallie. I quickly switched to a small mouse pattern and began smacking fish on nearly every cast. In only a few minutes, we had boated over 20 small mouth and had several doubles with fish over 18 inches. As the sun dipped below the canopy of the towering pine forest, the walleye came up from the depths to participate in the feeding frenzy.
I will never forget the sound the fish made when it sucked my fly from the surface. I set the hook, and my 8 weight St. Croix doubled under the pressure of the fish. After only a few seconds, I knew that this was no smallmouth. The fish spun the entire boat around and we began heading for the middle of the lake. Jim looked at me in awe and asked “Is that really your fish moving the boat?”
Largest walleye of our trip, a 25 incher. The fish hit a mouse fly just after dusk and was released.
All I could do was laugh and enjoy every deep run and pounding head shake. When I finally had the fish boat side, I could not believe my eyes. “It’s a huge walleye, and he’s got my mouse fly halfway down its throat!”
I pulled the fish out of the water just long enough for a measurement and quick picture. The minimum length requirement for walleye on our lake was 20 inches, but I couldn’t bring myself to put the 25 inch monster on the stringer. It was the largest walleye any of us had caught on our trips to Sylvania, but the experience the fish gave Jim and I that night was worth more than any walleye dinner. I held the fish by the tail and revived it for a few moments next to the boat and reflected upon our spectacular evening.
After the fish recovered enough to swim off on its own, we headed back to the campsite to see how the rest of our crew had done that evening. JJ Emerich, Joey Gillis, and Chase Ballweg managed to boat several bass and walleye as well, one being a 21 inch eye that had a date with a frying pan. The boys had their best luck using three inch tube jigs in brown and black.
Sight fishing smallies with Graham Steinhauer.
The next morning Jim and I hit the water just after sunrise. Fishing was slow, but that didn’t stop us from enjoying a paddle around the lake. We ended up with a few walleye and the largest smallie of our trip, a 21 inch hog.
Later that day, my dad Gregg and brother Graham arrived at the end of the portage just as a thunderstorm decided to develop. During a short break in the rain, they were able to paddle across the lake and set camp. It’s tough finding time to spend with my family these days, so having them join us for the weekend was a great addition to the trip.
We spent the rest of the afternoon fishing pike. Although I had heard stories of monsters frequenting the sunken island, we had yet to boat a fish over 30 inches. We decided to spend the rest of the trip doing our best to break the old record.
After some trial and error, we discovered large spinner baits produced the most consistent action. We found most of our fish between 20 and 15 feet of water over the top of heavy weed beds.
One particular fish put on quite a show. As Jim pulled up his spinner, a pike shot out of the water after it and hit the side of the boat. It swam under the boat and hit a tube jig that I had hanging over the side of the canoe and took off so fast that it nearly ripped my rod out of the boat. We were finally able to land the fish; a feisty 27 incher. This experience only added to my lifelong love affair with the ever hungry Northern Pike.
Friday night brought a much anticipated dinner of mulligan stew. There is no set way to make mulligan stew, but it usually contains a mixture of ground beef, veggies, and various spices all rolled up into a ball of tin foil and cooked in the campfire coals. My dad has been perfecting this fireside delight for many years, and to say the least it really hit the spot after a day of eating nothing but granola bars. Thanks dad!
First fish on the fly in the Sylvania Wilderness Area.
Saturday dawned cloudy and a little bit on the chilly side. The fish seemed to still be full from their mayfly feast. With little happening out on the lake, we decided to go for a hike. We walked the shores of Clark Lake, picked blue berries, swam in Loon Lake, and returned to camp just as it started to rain. JJ and I decided that a little rain wasn’t going to keep us off the water, so we set off once again in search of monster pike.
We stuck close to shore, taking shelter under the cedars during down pours and casting over weed beds during short breaks in the rain. We caught a few nice fish in the upper 20’s and were just about to head back to camp when it finally happened.
Two cranks into my retrieve, I felt a hit so hard it nearly jerked my St. Croix from my hands. I reared back hard on the rod, setting the single barbless hook as deep as I could into the pike’s toothy jaws. After a few arm numbing runs, I began to gain line on the fish. By the time I had it to the boat, JJ was ready with the net. As I coaxed the fish into the net, it shook its head and rolled, leaving the spinner lodged in the nylon mesh. With a slap of its tail, the pike left us both soaking wet and shaking. It was a bit irritating to see the fish go without getting a picture, but I could not have been happier. We had finally found proof of giant pike off the sunken island, and now we had a great excuse to come back next year
(better prepared with a bigger net of course).
We spent the evening drying off and eating whatever food we had left over so we wouldn’t have to pack it out the next day. We stayed up late talking about life, fish, and various other topics that a campfire and whiskey are likely to bring about.
A true north woods fisherman.
The next morning my brother and I hit the water about an hour after sun up. Graham is one of those guys that everyone loves to fish with. He’s a strong paddler, extremely observant, and always has a smile on his face. We had a blast sight fishing smallies in two to five feet of water with both spinning and fly fishing gear. Paddling around the lake with my little bro was about as good of an end to the trip as I could have asked for.
We paddled back to camp around ten. The rest of the crew had already started the depressing and arduous process of breaking camp. We loaded the boats and set off toward the portage on the other side of the lake. A loon accompanied us for the majority of our paddle, posing several times for the camera.
As I shouldered my pack, I took one last look across the lake that had been ours for the past four days. All the memories of the past four days and came flooding back. Someone up the trail yelled something and snapped me out of my day dream. Turning around and leaving our wilderness paradise never gets any easier.
I could not be more thankful for places like the Sylvania Wilderness Area. As time goes on, it becomes harder and harder to find places where one can truly feel a connection and belonging to the natural world. Spending time in a remote surrounding conjures feelings of humility, insignificance, and self-sufficiency that can lead to some of the most enlightening moments a human being can experience. Do your body and mind a favor and seek out as many of these places as you can before they disappear.
Thanks to everyone who joined us on the 2012 Sylvania adventure. Same time and place next year!