Fishing the North Shore of Superior

I’d fished several streams along the North Shore of Lake Superior over a number of years. And I’d always been satisfied with the experience, just in the scenery, the rocky, cascading streams, the solitary link with the country. But I’d never caught a fish. And I would only occasionally see another fisher out on the water, and while I might think on another stream in another place that this was a sign of hope – there must be fish if there are others fishing for them – I began to think that these other few fishers were actually just like me – bozos who had no idea what they were doing.

So, on my most recent visit to the North Shore I decided to hire a guide to point me to productive water. The first sign was that the cost for the day was about half of what is typically charged for similar guided trips on other rivers. Also, it was described not as a “guided trip” but rather a “tour.” Finally, it was the only guided trip offered along all of the upper part of the shore. When I went into the outfitters shop the afternoon before the trip (or tour), I spent about half an hour with my guide. At first he assumed I would be going out on one of the hundreds of inland lakes and fish from a float tube, as virtually everyone else who goes out does. But I told him I wanted to fish the streams. He was fine with that, even happy to be given the chance to do something different than his normal routine, even if his normal routine was helping clients catch fish. I assured him I was more interested in scouting potential streams to fish and not necessarily in catching fish. He said that that was a realistic goal.

We ended up fishing only two rivers, though he did point out to me several other rivers and streams that I might try and gave me access points. On the first river we fished, the Cascade, I caught only one fish, a two-inch bass. (We were fishing for trout, specifically brook trout.) He was surprised by seeing a bass, saying it had come down the river from an upper lake, but at least I hadn’t been skunked. (He apparently thought being skunked for the day was a distinct possibility.)

I did better on the next river, the Devil’s Track. I caught a four-inch rainbow trout in one of the first pools and noted that I was doubling the size of fish caught. And in the next pool I caught another rainbow, upping the size again to six inches. Soon after I caught what would be the fish of the day, a ten-inch rainbow. This is a fairly typical fish on my usual water, so I was surprised by the excitement of the guide. I think he referred to it at one point during the landing as a “monster,” and I wondered if he was mocking me. But he insisted on taking a picture of me with the fish, as if it were a trophy. And I suppose in those streams it may well be. All’s relative.

I caught a few more small fish through the afternoon, but nothing over six inches. My guide explained that the sun was not good for these waters, that a cloudy sky or rain was preferable. And there wasn’t much snowfall this past winter, so the lack of run-off and little rain this summer made for low and slow water. As we walked over rock banks back to the van he pointed out that we hadn’t seen another fisher all day, confirming my suspicion that there aren’t many who fish these streams, and for the reason that my meager outing was actually better than the average. But for me the trip was a success. I discovered where and how to fish some of the streams of the North Shore, and I did catch some fish, and most important, I spent most of a day outdoors in some of the most stunning scenery in the country.