186 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



TAphit. 1, 1886. 



A TRIP TO THE INTERMEDIATE LAKES. 



TT was in the fall of 1884 thai Charley A., from Columbus, 

 A O., came to visit me in ray new home in Missouri, 

 bringing a rifle, shotgun aud fishing tackle with him. Quail, 

 prairie chickens and other small game were abundant, and 

 a part of each day when the weather was good, we spent in 

 hunting. The Forest and Stream came to us every Mon- 

 day evening, and one or the other would read aloud every- 

 thing contained in its pages. The reader was often inter- 

 rupted with "What a scandalous lie," ' T should say it was 

 a remarkable shot," and similar remarks. It was during 

 these fall and winter evenings that we planned a trip to 

 Michigan for the coming summer, and it is about this trip 

 that I am going to write. I shall leave out poetry, Indian 

 legends, and what the natives said about the game' and fish 

 laws. 



Charley and I left home July 12, 1885, and arrived in St. 

 Louis next morning. "We were there all that day making 

 purchases to complete our outfit. Left St. Louis in the eve- 

 ning for Traverse City, Mich., via Chicago and Grand 

 Rapids. The weather was very warm and the ride tedious, 

 but we arrived all right in Traverse City on the morning of- 

 the 15th. We had ordered a boat but it had not come, so we 

 concluded to go up on the Boardman River trout fishing for 

 a few days, and wait for it. As we were all ready to go 

 into camp, we got aboard the train and the conductor let us 

 off about eight miles up where the river runs close to the 

 railroad track. We selected a smooth place for our tent, 

 and in half an hour had it up. Store clothes changed and 

 tackle ready, for we were determined on having trout for 

 dinner if possible. We started in, going in different direc- 

 tions, agreeing to return in two hours or as soon as we caught 

 enough' trout for dinuer. The river was only a few yards 

 from camp, and in a few niirmtes I had waded out into the 

 stream and made a cast, the first for two years. The trout 

 were rising freely, and in an hour I had plenty for our din- 

 ner, so I returned to camp finding Charley there. He had 

 caught several good trout and one grayling, which was about 

 ten inches long and weighed half a pound, the only one 

 caught on the trip. We soon had dinner cooked, and it 

 seemed to me I never was so hungry, and thought that meal 

 the finest that I ever sat down to. 



The Boardman is a pretty stream and is probably fished 

 more than any other in this* section, on account of its being 

 accessible. We stayed here three days and then went back 

 to Traverse City, very much disappointed at not finding our 

 boat, but could not afford to wait any longer, so we hustled 

 around to find a boat that would answer our purpose. Many 

 were found, but none suited. We were getting discouraged 

 when we met a gentleman who had a boat which, from the 

 description, we thought would answer, but it was up at the 

 head of Torch Lake and how to get it dnwn was the ques- 

 tion. Fortunately there was a telephone to Eastport, and a 

 message was sent to have the steamer Ida bring the boat 

 down next morning on her way to Elk Rapids, and leave it 

 at Follet's landing. Having arranged about the boat, we 

 then went to Morgan's and engaged a team to take us to Fol- 

 let's at the foot of Elk Lake. We left our trunks and every- 

 thing except our camp outfit with Mr. Gowdy at the Occi- 

 dental. Left Traverse at one o'clock and arrived at Follet's 

 at three, put the tent up on a grassy bank overlooking the 

 lake, and after making everything snug for the night, Charley 

 went after berries and I for trout. The stream is only a 

 few minutes walk from the landing, and 1 was soon catch- 

 ing the beauties. I had on two flies, and the trout went for 

 them as soon as they touched the water. 1 kept up the sport 

 for two hours, returning to camp with enough fish for supper 

 and breakfast. The next day at noon the steamer brought 

 our boat. We had been quite anxious about it, fearing that 

 it would not be as good as represented, but we found it a 

 trim little, craft and suited exactly. On a trip of this kind 

 an old scow of a boat is a nuisance, while a good and light 

 running boat is a delight all the time. That afternoon we 

 went fishing in the lake. We had not gone a hundred feet 

 from the shore w r hen Charley hooked a two pound bass. I 

 never saw a fish fight like tnat one. Five times it jumped 

 clear out of the water. The lake is as clear as crystal, and 

 we could see the fish nearly all the time and, of course it 

 could see us, which frightened it so it had to be completely 

 licked before coming to the boat. We caught several more, 

 all but one small-mouths. Returning to camp at 6 o'clock. 

 The next morning we broke camp and started for Rapid 

 River, intending to fish for bass off Skegee Maugh Poin, but 

 when we arrived there it was so calm and the sun so hot we 

 landed on the point to pick berries and rest awhile and try 

 the bass fishing later. 



In an hour we started across Round Lake and reached the 

 mouth of Torch River at 10 A. M. ; anchored here and fished, 

 but had no luck, setting only one bass in half an hour. We 

 moved on up the river, stopped at the old log camp and ate 

 lunch. The Rapid comes into Torch River about two and 

 one-half miles up. Arriving here we turned up the Rapid 

 and saw lots of ducks, but we had no shotgun to salute them 

 with. About two miles from the mouth of the river we 

 found a good camping place and hurried the outfit ashore. 

 In a very short time the tent was up, bed made, and every 

 thing ready for supper except cooking the fish and coffee. 

 We then got in the boat and went half a mile up the river 

 and landed, Charley going up one side and I the other. This 

 was my first visit to the Rapid, and I was much pleased with 

 it. The water is as cold as ice, and at this time was teem- 

 ing with trout. We caught nearly a hundred that afternoon 

 keeping only the largest ones. The river is full of logs and 

 treetops, and one must go very slow. We had fished three or 

 four hours and had gone only about a hundred yards. We 

 were just seven minutes getting back to the boat. It was 

 now almost dark, but it was an easy matter to get back to 

 camp, as the river is quite rapid, and we shot down stream 

 fast enough to satisfy any one. At the landing we scared 

 up a flock of mallards. How we wished for a gun, but we 

 bad not brought one. and we had to content ourselves with 

 offering to kick each other for the neglect. The mosquitoes 

 were pretty thick, but they did not bother us much. We 

 used a mixture we got from the Forest and Stream, and 

 after we got our hands and faces well oiled with it a mos- 

 quito or black fly wouldn't come within ten feet of us. 



During our stay here I hooked a very targe trout, but did 

 not save him. I had played him dead, as 1 thought, and had 

 drawn him up to the log I was standing on, but just as I 

 put out my hand to take him in, he made one last effort to 

 break away and succeeded, taking my hook with him. 

 felt the loss very much ; Charley had caught the largest one 

 so far, and il I had secured this one it would have beaten the 

 record. We enjoyed ourselves here as only our kind can 



came into Torch Lake we stopped and looked at the beauti- 

 ful scene. The distance from where we were to Eastport, 

 at the head of the lake, is eighteen miles. Away off to the 

 right is Spencer's Creek. We could see the churches and 

 houses quite plain. We took a bee line for the churcb steeple 

 four miles distant, and in an hour and a half landed at Spen- 

 cer's. We put up the tent under some pine trees on a high 

 bank a lew feet from the lake and right in town. Some of 

 the ladies watched us get dinner, and laughed when Charley 

 wiped his hunting knife on his boot and then cut the bread 

 with the knife. We gave some trout to one of the merchants 

 and in return he gave us a pan of honey. In the afternoon 

 we fished the two mill ponds, but only got a few trout, and 

 they were quite small. The next morning Charley went up 

 above the ponds and tried the creek. I took the boat and 

 rowed up the lake about a mile to Trautman's Creek. We 

 had been told that no one went there to fish, as it was gener- 

 ally supposed that there were no trout in the creek; but I 

 wanted to see for myself, and was well paid for my trip. 

 The stream, or brook rather, runs through a meadow for 

 half a mile, and I imagined the trout came down from the 

 woods after grasshoppers, for in that half mile there were 

 hundreds of fish. I can truly say I had the finest sport fly- 

 fishing that day I ever had. No trees, no brush, no flies br 

 mosquitoes to bother, and plenty of trout. What more could 

 I ask? When I got back to camp Charley was waiting sup- 

 per for me. He was feeling blue on account of his poor luck 

 up Spencer's Creek; but his spirits rose when I showed him 

 my catch, and told him I had left lots of trout for him to 

 try his luck on the next day. 



By 5 o'clock the next morning we were on our way up the 

 lake. It was a perfect morning, the sun just peeping over 

 the hills when we arrived at the mouth of Trautman's. 

 Charley fished the creek in the opening and I went to the 

 woods. The ground for a hundred yards from the clearing 

 had grown with soft maple brush, so thick that it was 

 almost impossible to get through it. But beyond that the 

 woods were free from underbrush. This stream is only a 

 few feet wide, and is a succession of rapids and falls, just 

 the sort of a place trout love to be on a hot day. Those 

 caught here were the most beautiful in shape and color of 

 any I had ever seen. I got back to the clearing about noon. 

 1 had left my lunch with Charley, and was getting anxious 

 about it. I found him so busy with the trout that my fears 

 were needless, and the lunch had not been touched, though 

 he said it had been in danger for an hour. After our lunch 

 we returned to the boat and rowed back to Spencer Creek. 

 At 5 P. M. we left for Clam River, five miles distant, where 

 we arrived at 7 o'clock. Just as we sat down to supper 

 Fred Thayer came down on us, and after shaking hands all 

 around, we fixed a plate for him, put another pan of fish to 

 fry. and all three sat down to eat trout and talk of camp life. 

 Fred's home is on a strip of land between Torch and Clam 

 lakes, and is one of the prettiest places in this country. We 

 had a jolly time, each relating some experience of camp life, 

 and it was late when Fred bade us good-night. 



In the morning we pulled up Clam River into Clam Lake, 

 which is four miles long. We trolled along for a while, but 

 caught nothing except pickerel, so we took in the line and 

 moved quickly up the lake with a strong ash breeze. At 

 the head of the lake we landed and caught some grasshoppers, 

 and then started up Grass River. About two miles up Cold 

 Creek comes in. Here we put on our tall boots and waded 

 up the creek, pulling the boat after us. About half a mile 

 up the water became so deep we had to abandon wading, and, 

 making the boat fast, we got our tackle ready and started up 

 the stream. Cold Creek is so hard to get at, and so far out 

 of the way, that very few people take the trouble to come 

 here. The brush and mosquitoes also help to keep fisher- 

 men away; but those that do come have rare sport The 

 trout here take the hook with a suddenness that is likened 

 only to an electric shock, and if you are not on the alert 

 away you go off that log into ice-cold water. The trout we 

 caught here were of a different color from those we caught 

 in other streams, these were not so black on the back, the 

 mottling and red spots were not so marked, and the sides 

 were brilliant orange. In a couple of hours we returned to 

 the boat, jumped in and were soon going down stream at a 

 rapid rate. At the mouth of the creek we turned up Grass 

 River and an hour afterward we were in Grass Lake, where 

 we did not stop to fish, but pushed on across the lake to 

 Intermediate River. The Intermediate was very low and 

 quite rapid, and we had a hard pull of it to get to Bellaire. 

 Often one of us had to jump out and pull the boat over a 

 rapid, and it was late in the evening when we reached Bel- 

 laire, tired, hungiy and sleepy. 



The next morning we were up early and off to the Cedar 

 River, which is about a mile from town, where fishing was 

 excellent, and we enjoyed the morning's sport immensely. 

 In the afternoon we called on some friends, and early in the 

 evening pulled up stakes and were once more on our way up 

 the river. Two miles up we came to the foot of Interme- 

 diate Lake, and a mile up the lake Island JSo. 2, a well- 

 known camping place, was reached, and we stopped here 

 for two days, fishing for bass in the lake and hunting squir- 

 rels in the woods on each side of the lake. Bass fishing 

 around here is always fair to good, and we had all the sport 

 we wanted. After dinner the second day we put our traps 

 in tbe boat and started up the lake, stopping to fish at Deer 

 Point and Johnson's Lake, arriving at Central Lake at 7 

 P. M. We had read several articles in Forest and Stream 

 by "Kelpie," and as this was his home we wanted to see 

 what sort of a looking man he was; so as soon as we had 

 eaten supper and lit our- pipes we walked up town to find 

 our- man. Not knowing his name, we had some trouble in 

 finding out who he was. We "got on to him" at the post 

 office, and found him a very pleasant, gentleman. "Kelpie" 

 is well acquainted with this section of country, and gave us 

 valuable information regarding the trip around the Ox Bow. 

 In the morning we put our boat and traps on a wagon and 

 started for the Jordan River, twelve miles distant. Six 

 miles east of Central Lake the road crosses the headwaters 

 of tbe Intermediate Lakes. The boat was left here in charge 

 of Mr. Wilson, who promised to look after it, and also to 

 come to the Jordan River for us the following week. The 

 road from Central Lake to the Jordan is very good, except 

 the last mile, which is on the Jordan Flat, and is corduroy. 

 Soon we were on the bank of the beautiful Jordan again; 

 for a few moments we stood and gazed on the water as it 

 rushed by, and then began to unload the traps preparatory 

 to camping. We had just got everything out of the wagon 

 when Capt, Colburn, the boss of the lumber camp, came 

 along and invited us to come down to his camp and stay 

 with him, said he had only a few men now, and we could 

 until the morning of lhe"~third~day, when we pulled up be more comfortable than in a tent. The invitation was so 

 stakes and were once more on the way to new scenes. We strong we concluded to accept. In a few minutes the things 

 reached the head of Torch River at 8 o'clock, and as we I were back in tbe wagon and we were on our way down to 



the log camp, which is about a quarter of a mile below the 

 State road bridge and a few yards from the river. 



On arriving at camp we were told to put the baggage in 

 the hall and make ourselves perfectly at home. It was now 

 10 o'clock, and we set up our rods and started for the river 

 to catch our dinner; in two hours we came back with a nice 

 lot of trout. The Captain would not allow us to get our own 

 dinner, made us sit down with them. We were awful hun- 

 gry and enjoyed the pork and beans immensely, and it is as- 

 tonishing how much a man can eat when he is roughing it 

 in the woods. We are both good feeders, but to-day we ex- 

 celled^ ourselves, and when we pulled out from the table the 

 Captain said, if we did as well every meal he would have to 

 send to town for more supplies before Sunday. The Captain 

 told us we need not bother with cooking our meals, but 

 should eat with them. We did not like to accept so much; 

 however, if he would board us we would keep the table sup- 

 plied with trout. The Captain laughed, and said it was a 

 bargain. Anxious to make our word good, we struck out 

 for the river. The Captain went part of the way with us 

 and showed us a road leading through the woods, which we 

 followed and came out about half a mile above the State 

 Road Bridge. At first we thought we were not going to get 

 enough for seven men, but as trout after trout came to the 

 creel, that fear vanished, and we felt sure our part of tb e 

 bargain would be Sept. We reached camp at half past six 

 with eighty t rout, The Captain and the boys were surprised 

 at our getting so many. We had cleaned the fish at the 

 bridge, so they were all ready for the pan. In a little while 

 supper was called, and we sat down with the crowd to trout, 

 bacon, pork and beans, fried onions, potatoes, bread and but- 

 ter, stewed prunes and coffee. Charley and I did not go 

 much on the prunes, but otherwise we thought it a royal 

 feast. The trout was a treat to the men; for they rarely get 

 them, though they live where they are to be had at any time; 

 but very few of the natives go trout fishing. Nearly every 

 one we saw fishing were after pickerel. We saw one man 

 who had lived fourteen years five miles from the Jordan 

 who had never seen trout but once and had never caught 

 any. That night we slept under a roof for the first time in 

 two weeks. 



The next morning I was up at daylight, and got a couple 

 of hours' fishing before breakfast, for a mile below the log 

 camp the river is very rapid, and two years before I had 

 caught the most and largest fish here, one of them a grayling, 

 weighing twenty-four ounces. So to-day I thought I would 

 try some of the old places, and see if I could hook another 

 grayling. I took a lunch with me, intending to stay all day, 

 but by noon my creel got so heavy I had to return to camp 

 and empty it, returning at once to the place, I continued to 

 fish until night. There is one place a half mile below camp 

 where a big log lying across the river forms a dam. The 

 stream here is quite narrow, and the water runs over this 

 place like a mill race, scooping a hole ten feet deep just 

 below the log, and making as pretty a place as any trout 

 could desire. I took nine out of this hole, two of them 

 weighing twelve ounces each, and lost several flies and also 

 several trout while trying to pull them up over the log. 

 Those lost I imagined weighed from one to three pounds 

 each. 



That evening a party of gentleman from Chicago came up 

 the river in boats; "Nessmuk" would have run and bid if he 

 had seen the amount of stuff they unloaded. Charley came 

 in late and reported fine fishing above, and said he was going 

 back to the same place in the morning to catch some of the 

 big fellows that he lost that day. 



We got an early start next morning, following tbe State 

 road north for a mile, then turning east on an old log road, 

 walked a mile and a half, coming out on the river at an old 

 log camp about three miles above the bridge. We started 

 in here, fishing slowly down stream, enjoying every moment 

 of the time, including the hour we spent in eating our lunch 

 and smoking our pipes. In the evening, when we sat down 

 to clean our fish, we were unanimous in praise of the stretch 

 of water we had fished that day. Indeed a prettier place for 

 trout would be hard to find. The next day Warren, one of 

 the hands, had promised to get a boat, and take us several 

 miles up the river. We had made every preparation for the 

 trip and were all ready to start as soon as we had breakfast. 

 Charle yand I walked to the old log camp up the river and 

 waited for Warren who soon came in sight. Warren was 

 an expert at poling a boat and we looked on in wonder as 

 the boat shot up over the rapids. For a mile or two we got 

 along first-rate, then the stream began to narrow very fast 

 and the way became more and more difficult. By noon we 

 had gone about four miles, and as we were tired and 

 hungry, we concluded to stop and rest and eat our lunch. 



The scenery here was wild in the extreme. We had seen 

 signs of deer and bear, and were in hopes we could get sight 

 of them, but did not. After lunch we left Warren to look 

 after the boat, and taking our rods we started up stream. 

 Scarcely any one gets up this far to fish, and we got a rise at 

 nearly every cast. It was three o'clock when we got back 

 to the boat. Before starting down creek, fish, etc., were put 

 in the locker in case of a spill. The word came to let go, and 

 away we went on one of the most exciting boat rides I ever 

 took. For a while it took all our time and attention to keep 

 the boat off the rocks and logs, but when we got down into 

 smoother water where Warren could manage the boat alone, 

 we began to fish, and by the time we reached camp many a 

 speckled beauty had been taken in out of the wet. The next 

 morning it was raining, and all day long it poured down. 

 Tuesday morning we found the river quite muddy, and it 

 had risen two or three feet during the night. We tried fly- 

 fishing just below the bridge, but did not have much luck, 

 so we went back to camp and packed the traps to leave. At 

 noon Mr. Wilson came with the team, and after dinner our 

 truck was put in the wagon, and shaking hands all around, 

 thanking the Captain and the boys for their hospitality, we 

 jumped in the wagon and bade good-bye to the beautiful Jor- 

 dan. We arrived at the Intermediate River at five o'clock, 

 and camped there that night. 



In the morning our boat was put in the stream, traps 

 loaded, and were once more afloat, feeling thankful the 

 remainder of the trip would be all down stream. In half 

 an hour we came into Echo Lake. This is the first of the 

 Intermediate Chain. There are about a dozen in all, and the 

 distance from Echo Lake to the Lower Intermediate is about 

 twenty-five miles, and from Echo Lake to Elk Rapids, where 

 these waters empty into Lake Michigan, is about eighty-five 

 miles. All these lakes abound in bass, pickerel and the sun- 

 fish tribe. Passing through Echo Lake and a narrow chan- 

 nel of half a mile in length, we came into Scott's Lake. At 

 the head of this lake we had some rare sport with the bass, 

 the dozen or so that we caught were all big-moutbs. We 

 should have camped here, but there is no high ground. 

 After two hours' sport we pulled on down the lake to Mc - 



