The Upper Manistee and Boardman Rivers received some much needed rain and the rivers have cooled down and levels are good. Streamer fishing conditions have improved for those looking to hit the bigger fish when the bugs aren’t out.  Olive, white and yellow streamers have been working well, but mix it up to find the fish’s daily preference.

Hatches have been sporadic, but on the right night, they have been good and varied. Look for Isonychias, Brown Drakes, Gray Drakes (Boardman), little Yellow Sally Stones, Medium Brown Stones, a few of the large salmon-fly stones, Bat Flies, Light Cahills, Tan Caddis and the last of the sulphurs to be coming off in the evening hours. It’s time to have your head lamps with you as the bugs will often go well into the dark. Stick around a little later as a few hex have been seen and they will build over the next week with the warmer and more stable weather in our forecast.  This is the best time of the year to go after trout with dries.

The fishing on the Lower Manistee below Tippy is still good with trout eating a handful of flies from caddis, midges, scud and sow bug nymphs, BWOs and wet flies. Smaller baitfish/fry patterns have been working stripped and swung and the big stone fly has brought up some nice fish too. Streamer fishing has improved on this section with the increase in water flow and cloudy days.

Carp fishing has been a little tough in the past week with the change in weather and water temps. Wind direction is key and the warmer water is imperative to finding fish that want to eat. Look for the fishing for both Smallmouth Bass and carp to improve on the Grand Traverse Bays when we get some warmer weather once again. Crayfish patterns have been best lately, specifically Hadda’s Creek Crawler pattern since the fish are a little deeper and this pattern sinks quickly. Leeches and hex nymphs deserve a place in your box too with all of the nymph activity.

The Bluegills/Panfish on local lakes continue to provide fun for the fly angler. Top-water flies like min-poppers and spiders have been bringing fish up and smaller streamers like bead head buggers and minnow patterns are doing their damage sub-surface.Largemouth Bass have been getting a little more aggressive on top-water flies now that many of them have completed their spawning activities and if there are pike in the lakes you fish, don’t be surprised if they take the sliders, divers and poppers. Fish them quietly rather than big and loud until the weeds get heavy.

The Upper Manistee and Boardman rivers have been experiencing good hatches of a lot of different bugs making it tricky to figure out what the fish are keyed in on. Sometimes one fish is eating one bug and the next fish downstream is looking for something else – prepare to mix up your patterns. Here is what you can expect to find: Sulphurs, Mahoganies, Bat Flies, Isonychias, Brown Drakes, Gray Drakes, Medium Brown Stones, Little Yellow Sallies and some Large Stones – golden and black/orange, olives and caddis. Yes, a lot of bugs, but this is a great time to be on the water if you like dry fly fishing.

The Lower Manistee is still fishing well for those looking to fish a variety of ways: swinging wet flies, nymphing, streamers and dry flies. Most of the dry flies have been tiny midges and caddis; however a big stonefly pattern has been bringing up some good fish too. The carp and suckers that were spawning in the hundreds are getting thinner each day and all of the trout chomping on their eggs below them are starting to go back to their usual places in the river. When it’s bright, look for shade, no matter what river you are fishing right now!

The Carp and Smallmouth Bass on the bay have been really good lately thanks to the warm weather. Some fish are spawning while others are still in pre-spawn mode. Look for big groups of carp in shallows where the water is warmest – with the cooler evenings, the fishing in the afternoon should be better than in the mornings for carp. Smallies aren’t quite as sensitive. The typical patterns are working: crayfish, clousers and hex nymphs – all in variations that should get the job done.

The bluegill/panfish and bass in area lakes and ponds are on their beds with lots of fish around them looking to eat. Fishing dries in shallow will not only provide some fun surface action, but leave the spawners to do what they need to do. With some gills finishing, look for the fish to be closer to slight drop-offs where a bead head nymph or small streamer should get you some action.

The forecast is calling for some much needed rain and cooler temps which, I hope will bring the water levels up, but more importantly, the temperatures down. All fish – whether in rivers or lakes do not like significant change in temperatures – especially dropping mercury. This can be key when deciding when to go out or even where. Overnight temps, daily sunshine, wind direction and rainfall all have an affect so pay attention and adjust your plans if needed.

I remember feelings, brief moments and impressions. Most memories run together. Many things that I did over and over, like playing cards with grandpa, I can only really recall as a composite of all the events in one memory. I remember playing cards, but each memory of playing seems attached to the same game. In fact each little memory came from many of the games I played with him. I’m sorry I can’t hold those memories together chronologically and remember details. So much of the wonder of Ginger Quill was in the details.

Grandma Fishing on the Au Sable

So many memories come back to me with smells, and Ginger Quill had distinctive smells. Even as we arrived up north in the forest we could begin to smell the pine. We drove with our windows open in those days because we had no air conditioning and mom and dad both smoked. When we arrived and stopped the car at Ginger Quill the smell was intense — pine, fur, and balsam. It was not overpowering, and at the time we were probably too young to pay attention to it. It made an impression though. Walking into the main cabin you smell the cedar walls, the pine floors and the fireplace smoke; again, it was not overpowering, but soothing. There was the smell of fly dope in dad’s tackle box, the smell of waders in the tackle room and the oil and gas where the small outboard engines were kept. The smell of pine in the bathrooms and those little football shaped gel bath oil beads and bubble bath beads.

There were the sounds of the wind through the trees, the low, not quite rumble of the river, punctuated by the trickle of water over a tree limb. The endless assortment of birds and the occasional large gunshot from Camp Grayling. The water pump coming on and the constant hum of the generator. The sound of canoe paddles striking the sides of canoes, a pole crunching into the gravel riverbed and riverboat chains being dragged over the rocks or being picked up and dropped into a boat. Mostly the sounds at Ginger Quill were quiet, soothing and peaceful.

I remember running like crazy around the dining cabin to the gazebo or down to the main cabin dock, stopping with a scream after encountering a large snake sunning itself on the sidewalk or the dock. We went screaming to the first adult we could find yelling “rattlesnake, rattlesnake, rattlesnake.” Those poor snakes. Few were poisonous and, in all the years I spent at Ginger Quill, I never really saw a rattlesnake.

I remember swinging wildly on the gazebo swings and peeling the bark off the swings to get at the sawdust left behind by boring insects, constantly being reprimanded by adults. I remember peering down into the water inside the boathouse seeing the large trout swimming in water brilliantly lit by the sun.

I remember playing with those large medicine balls and the exercise pins and climbing on the fireplace rocks. I remember chasing bats in the “Boy’s Cabin” with tennis rackets and snowshoes. I remember the rough stucco walls scratching my skin. I don’t, however, remember girls at Ginger Quill. I remember the caretaker’s daughter Bonnie Borchers and grandma, but I must have been there alone most of the time or with my brother, Geof, or cousin, Chris Olson. I do remember sleeping with Barbie Defoe once but it was at the small Defoe cabin and I was about five.

I remember chasing  Bonnie around and pulling her bathing suit top down and how upset she got. I wasn’t sure why she was upset but the fact that she was made it all that much more fun. Somehow grandma found out and we had a very serious talk. Most talks with grandma were serious. She sat on the daybed and I on a straight back chair. Next to me was a large green bottle as big around as I was and almost as tall. I came away from that talk more confused than ever. I still didn’t know what the big deal was but I did know I was not to do it again. I think I was ten. It could have been the beginning of my…. Oh, never mind.

I remember sitting on the main cabin lawn on bright blue chaise rockers drinking Squirt out of brightly colored anodized aluminum tumblers. Gnats swarmed around our heads and occasionally flies would take a chunk out of us. Grandma would often complain about all the canoers but when they tipped over in Ghoul’s Hole, she invited them to dry their things on the lawn and fed them lunch.

Map of Camp Ginger Quill

I remember poling upstream being very difficult, but easier each year. I remember one foot on the dock and one in a boat as the boat went out into the river so I fell into it — the cold Au Sable. I remember holding on Dad’s neck (feeling the rough stubble on his neck and smelling his Yardly aftershave) as he swam across the river at the dining cabin. My cousin Chris and I canoed down from Stephans bridge often but once we met Trish Hayes and another blond girl on our way down. I fell madly in love with that little blond girl but never saw her again, except in a few dreams. I was probably twelve. Chris always found friends on the river.

Grandma often had us clear rocks from her garden path and paid us a penny a rock. I played canasta with grandpa most every night for 1/10 of a cent a point. I always won or he let me win. I didn’t care at the time. I’ll always remember him yelling “YIP” with delight when he had a red three and collected 100 points. I would have to excuse myself to organize my cards on the window seat at the end of the Main cabin living room. I would always hold my cards to the end and call “canasta” all of a sudden, catching grandpa by surprise. He would then take me back to his safe and give me several crisp unused one dollar bills.

Grandma always read to me. She made Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh, and Alice in Wonderland seem like real people. They were my friends. She would play classical music and sing. I remember the fishing log and the old whaling log books. Tying flies that would never catch a fish, the dark river at night and the gloop of a fish rising unseen. The chipmunks, the tapping of woodpeckers and Bucky our pet deer and the sadness we felt upon hearing he’d been killed.

I remember being sent out with Bonnie and Butch Borchers to pick wild blueberries. Somehow my bucket had more leaves and twigs than berries and Bonnie’s bucket was full to overflowing, each berry perfect. I remember getting into trouble. I was probably goofing off when I should have been picking. I remember fishing among the trees across from the Boy’s Cabin. The current wasn’t too strong and there were always fish rising there. Never caught anything, though. I caught my first fish right off the main cabin dock. I remember my first guided fishing trip. One of the Wakeley boys (18) was my guide. I felt like a man, a real big shot. Didn’t catch anything as I remember but a really big one got away. I remember the huge infestation of green worms.

I don’t ever remember sleeping better than I did at Ginger Quill. Probably the cool nights, comforting surrounding, soothing sounds, the hard work and play each day or maybe the sense of love and peace.

On occasion I went fishing with Dad. I sat in the center of the boat in a specially-made boat seat with a back support. I don’t remember fishing much nor do I remember Dad catching many fish. I do remember sandwiches, soup and cookies though. I remember peeing over the side of the boat into the river. Everyone did that. So I thought. One day when several of the women saw us off at Stephans bridge, I had to go to the bathroom, so I started peeing off the bank into the river. I was unceremoniously grabbed and carried, trailing urine, to a nearby bush. I didn’t understand why it was OK some of the time and not others, but the point had been made.

I remember our caretakers, the Borchers — the large woman named Zoe with her friendly smile and bright demeanor and her husband, Al, who was somber and stern, along with their children, Bonnie, and her kid brother, Butch.

Butch could cast a fly line like a grown man and didn’t think much of our skills. Bonnie was smart and more mature than I. Her parents were very strict with her. She was a talented accordion player. Zoe and the kids were very Catholic. Al was not. I remember seeing Al in the hospital when he was dying of cancer. He was so thin Zoe could pick him up with one hand. He converted to Catholicism just before he died so his funeral was a high Catholic Mass. We all went but of course were lost because it was very long and all in Latin. We joked about the priest saying his father played dominoes, or what sounded like that. I remember feeling very sad.

My closest high school friends Buzz Berger, Jim Knake and Mike Gruber and I took a one-week canoe trip every high school summer from Ray’s in Grayling down to the back waters. We had tents and sleeping bags but spent at least four days in the “Boys Cabin.” We all became big smokers on those trips. I remember the caretaker coming in to check on us as four cigarette butts flew into the fireplace in formation — as if he cared if we smoked or not. Those were great trips. We slapped our paddles on the water just to make noise. Mike broke a paddle and tried to tell Ray’s that it had dry rot. Mike bought the paddle. We fished for breakfast but came away hungry. Those were great “coming of age” trips for us. Sleeping in wet sleeping bags after tipping over, waking up in a driving rain storm. Mosquitoes as big as humming birds and enough of them to carry us off. I remember seeing Buzz’s arm outside of his sleeping bag so covered with mosquitoes that you could hardly see his skin.

My first hunting trip was in the Ginger Quill woods. Grandma let us do it because she knew we wouldn’t hit anything. Dad and I went bow hunting for deer. Never even saw a deer. Probably making too much noise. Did take a shot at a flying squirrel though. I was shaking so much I missed him by three feet. Later that day we went partridge hunting with shotguns. Didn’t find any partridge but saw twenty deer. Last hunting trip of my life.

I remember the few times we went to Ginger Quill during the winter. We were up north skiing. I went once with Aunt Cynthia and Uncle Dwight, along with cousins Chris and Cathy. Another time Dad took us up with Andy the Swede, our exchange student that year. We drove to the corner store one cold wintry day and the road was packed solid with snow and ice. When we got on the main road Dad started showing off and tried to scare us by jerking the wheel and sliding a little. We slid a lot and got stuck in a snow bank for two hours.

The main cabin lacked insulation so the fireplace and heater had to work hard to keep us warm. The river was magnificent. This river was like a black ribbon slicing through the snow-covered landscape. The snow was perfect, covering every inch of the ground in a pure white blanket. The evergreens burdened with their heavy load of snow still stood full upright with contrasting dark green and white and the hardwoods stood naked, small patches of snow clinging to their branches. And still the steady roar of the river brought the water right up to the snow’s edge. Everything was either land or water, even man made structures. The dock, save its lack of trees, was just another part of the riverbank. Of course we ran all over and messed it up.

My college fraternity (TKE) formal was held at Ginger Quill. It’s a faint memory now but I do remember it was unlike any other formal before and since. It was my senior year at Alma and we wanted something unusual. There were probably a hundred college students doing all the things college students did back then and loving it. We pulled all the furniture back in the Main Cabin and created a dance floor. We snuggled by a warm fire and we drank beer. We necked in the woods until the mosquitoes got to us and we sang on the dock to canoers who paddled by. In the end they cleaned up and put everything back where it belonged. I remember my cousin Jill down on the dock singing “howja, howja, howja like ta bite…..” although that could be one of those memories that comes from hearing about it and not actually having been there.

More recently my wife Kathy and I were on the river. We stayed at Gates’ but waded from Ghoul’s Hole to Wakeley’s and the next day canoed from Burton’s Landing down to Wakeley’s. On our canoe trip we met one of the new owners of Ginger Quill. They invited us in and we spent the night there. It was an overwhelmingly emotional experience. Much had changed, but the spirit is still there. People are still being touched and they are caring for it. I feel blessed to have had Kathy with me to share the visit, as she had never seen Ginger Quill when we owned it. We didn’t sleep as well as I had remembered, but I was pretty emotional. We stayed in the corner bedroom at the end of the living room.

The sounds and smells were the same.

I swear I heard Grandpa yell “Yip.”

The Au Sable River

Streamer fishing has been tough since the water is low and clear – some badly needed rain will do a lot to change this. Sadly the weather man isn’t predicting any – lets hope he is wrong but in the meantime, target the low-light times of the day and/or, really go deep into structure to get them to play. The Lower Manistee below Tippy Dam is fishing decent with caddis, wets and mid-sized streamers. There are lots of suckers and carp spawning right now so a nymph fisherman would be well served to nymph some small egg patterns behind them to pick off the trout eating all of the eggs coming down the pipeline.

The Carp on both West and Grand Traverse Bay are in pre-spawn rapidly approaching spawning time. It’s a great time to get on the warmer flats and sight fish to some real bruisers. Mixed with them and in other places are some great Smallmouth Bass. The typical flies have been working: crayfish, leeches, weighted hex nymphs (click here for tying instructions) and small goby patterns. Lots of water has warmed up so most of your favorite places should have fish looking to eat a well presented fly.

The Bluegill/Panfish are in the shallows of most local lakes and are defending their beds. Top-water flies have been working well: poppers, spiders and tarantulas – great action and is a lot of fun for beginners learning to fly fish or for the seasoned angler who can’t make it to the river. Hang a small beaded nymph underneath a dry if you aren’t getting the attention you are looking for. If that doesn’t work try real small streamers with a bead, stripped slowly. Bass, too are on some beds and others are still in pre-spawn – good fun.

As you can read, there is so much to choose to fish for right now – call for a trip if you are looking to get on the water for any of the above species or what’s going to hatch soon (think: Hex). Safe travels to all of you heading Up-North for the Memorial Day weekend.

Ted Kraimer is a professional guide and fly tier, owner of Current Works Guide Service, and field editor for True North Trout. His fishing reports will continue to appear in T|N|T and on his website.

The main cabin at Camp Ginger Quill

For us, as children, the long ride from Bay City was almost over when we heard the gravel strike the underside of the car near Roscommon. (I-75 had not yet been built.) Our father, Fred, would make a short stop at Jack’s Rod and Fly Shop to pick up flies and leaders. We would always stop on the bridge over the South Branch to say hello to the Au Sable. From then on we would search for glimpse of a deer and for the small Camp Ginger Quill signs nailed to trees or posts, along with what seemed like a hundred other signs, indicating when we should turn. Once we were on the Ginger Quill road and starting down the hill, we would honk our car horn announcing our arrival. Grandma and Grandpa Smith would welcome us on the back lawn, usually just as the sun was going down. We children would pile out of the car and dash down the sidewalk to the river. The river held great excitement for us. It was like seeing our best friend after a long absence. Our parents had to drag us off the dock.

We usually slept in bunk beds right by the rear entry door. We all remember rolling over and scratching our arms on the rough stucco walls. On a typical day the grandchildren would awaken when the caretakers brought in fresh firewood at 6 A.M. The footsteps up the back steps, the creaking of the screen door spring, and the closing of the door were enough to wake us. We were up quickly and would run along a direct path behind the tackle room, through the woods, and up to the “Dining Cabin” for breakfast. Zoe Borchers’ Au Sable River Pancakes (balls of pancake batter, deep fried and covered with honey butter) were our favorite breakfast. Our ages were compatible with the caretaker’s two children, Bonnie and Butch Borchers, and we got along very well. We would stay occupied at the “Dining Cabin” until the adults were up and ready for breakfast. They would have coffee at the “Main Cabin” but, when ready, would call the “Dining Cabin” on a private phone system, to indicate they were on their way down for breakfast, stopping at the “Boys’ Cabin” to pick up any guests who might be there. While the adults were at breakfast the “Main Cabin” was being cleaned and the beds made or changed.

Lunch was packed for those going out fishing with a guide. We will always remember Zoe’s wonderful cookies. Lunch for the others was normally served at the “Main Cabin” and was usually very light. I remember having fruit, sandwiches and cold soup on the front porch looking out at the river.

The grandchildren were allowed access to the older green Au Sable river boats and would pole them as far upstream as Knight’s Bridge, and then fish or float down to the “Main Cabin.” We could pole in easy water and avoid the deep water at Ghoul’s Hole by staying in the channel just upstream of the “Main Cabin.” We would often fish in tennis shoes and bathing suits and we all loved swimming from the “Dining Cabin” down to the “Main Cabin.” To this day I have a recurring dream of the current carrying me past the “Main Cabin” and then downriver.

Dinnertime was usually set ahead of time. As evening approached and the fishermen returned, naps were over and everyone was cleaned up, the adults would relax on the front porch with a drink or two before dinner. A large cast bell would ring at the “Dining Cabin” indicating dinner was ready. We would all stroll up for dinner. Meals would rival those served in the very best restaurants. As a child all I can remember is the Baked Alaska, but we ate many wonderful things. I especially remember the miniature canoe and hand carved duck decoys that decorated the dining room. We would also watch deer graze in the meadow by the gazebo. It was normally dark when we walked back after dinner but the walkway was lighted. The evenings were peaceful.

The living room seemed to glow even when there was no fire. When the sun went down there was little to do but play cards, read or talk around the blazing fire. We would open the upper doors to the porch and could hear the river over the crackling fire. Our grandfather loved to play cards, and canasta or cribbage was his games of choice. He was very competitive, but I think he let us win. I remember being introduced to Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh and Alice in Wonderland while trying to stay awake on the down sofa. If you happened to be captured by that sofa, it would envelop you and put you to sleep in minutes. Television made a very late appearance at CGQ but was normally only used to watch an occasional Tigers game. Even the telephone was located outside in the tackle room.

Henry B. Smith Jr. owned several companies and was on the board of directors of the bank. To us, however, he was just Grandpa. He was a kind and gentle man who was very generous to family. He loved the Au Sable and he loved trout fishing so Ginger Quill was very much an extension of his personality. He always seemed happiest there. We often played cards together and watched Tigers games. He collected stamps and coins and showed some talent as an artist. He delighted in sharing his interests with us.

Our Grandmother, a very beautiful and elegant woman, would read to us and play and sing to us at the piano. She loved the woods and spent most of her time nurturing the garden she planted around the “Main Cabin.” She created a nature trail and filled it with Michigan’s most beautiful wild flowers. She also created a tree farm and planted thousands of trees throughout our property, much of which was seen only by her. She loved taking us through the woods to teach us about her trees, her flowers and her birds. She was a magnificent woman and much of the magic that is Camp Ginger Quill came directly from her. She also holds the Ginger Quill fishing record; a 24-3/4 inch brown caught just below the “Main Cabin.” The men who fish there never quite got over the fact she beat them and she was always there to remind them.

The Hottentots, a group of men who gathered at Ginger Quill on the 1st of May for the opening of trout season, held a one-day fishing contest to see who can catch the longest fish. The winner gets his name on a loving cup and gets to keep the cup for that year. He is also responsible for choosing the invitations for the next year. The invitations normally have the Ginger Quill logo, the date and the words “Happy Hottentots.”

The gathering of the Hottentots was quite a party. Although trout fishing was the number one priority, the Hottentots knew how to enjoy themselves. They all had a small paddle they would bang on the dining table to the beat of their song, “We are the Happy Hottentots,” bang, bang, bang, bang, etc. Missing a beat of the song could result in an unwanted swim in the river. It was usually a little difficult for the younger generation to be accepted as members, as the fathers weren’t sure they wanted their sons to see them having that much fun. The transitions took place, however, and the Hottentots remain active today although somewhat subdued. Catch and Release has forced them to fish below Wakeley’s Bridge or on the North Branch.

Camp Ginger Quill is indeed a very special place. It has affected everyone who has ever been touched by its spell. We in the Smith Family will always miss CGQ and treasure every moment we ever spent there. We are all pleased that Ginger Quill is still touching people’s lives.

As a series these essays provide a nice first-person glimpse into another time and another way of life on the Au Sable river. Look for the next installment in our series tomorrow.

Camp Ginger Quill was built in 1928 by my grandparents, Bay City businessman Henry B. Smith Jr. and his wife Katherine. It began as a small cabin just downstream from the present site. While making glue on the stove one evening, a small fire started and spread quickly. Fortunately no one was hurt but the cabin burned to the ground.

Three generations of the Smith family at Camp Ginger Quill: Frederick B Smith, Sr., Frederick B. Smith, Jr., and Henry B Smith Jr. on the dock with an Au Sable riverboat (Photo: Bay City Times).

Construction began the following year on the first cabin of the present complex. The “Main Cabin” as it was always known, was initially much smaller than it is today. It included three bedrooms, one bath, the living room, and a small kitchen. A screened porch ran the length of the cabin facing the river.

Two years later the “Main Cabin” was expanded. The hallway to the kitchen was extended down to a large master suite (which is now a bar and game room). Two small rooms along the hall were a bathroom and an office/tackle room. The master suite consisted of a screened porch, a large sitting area, and two single Dutch beds recessed into the wall. Both beds had curtains for more privacy or to block the sun for afternoon naps. A screened game room filled the space between the living room with its large stone fireplace and the master suite. It was dominated by a ping-pong table and exercise equipment, such as an old rowing machine, medicine balls and dumbbells. Access to the game room was a step down from the hall or from the front porch. The living room was closed at the fireplace end and firewood was stored on either side. (The game room is now a large kitchen and dining room.)

The green dock in front of the “Main Cabin” had a retaining wall that ran from the stairs to the down river end, and which also acted as a bench. A wrought iron sign hung from the light post near the stairs depicting two fishermen in a canoe, a rod bent by the pressure of a large trout, and the word “Ginger” at the top and “Quill” at the bottom. That sign was used as the Ginger Quill logo. A live well was in place at the down river end of the dock so we always had fresh trout. Fish that were not eaten in three days were tagged and released. No one has ever caught any of the tagged fish, however. The live well was a source of endless fascination for the grandchildren.

The Camp Ginger Quill dining room.

The “Dining Cabin” was built the year the “Main Cabin” was expanded and contained living quarters for the caretakers, a large kitchen and a beautiful dining room with a sitting space around a fireplace at the downriver end. There was also a screened porch at the dining room entrance. A long dock ran in front of the dining room and was accessed by two sets of stairs with log railings. At the upriver end of the dock was a boathouse topped by a screened gazebo. The gazebo was furnished with bentwood furniture and dominated by two bentwood swings. The view upstream was wonderful. There was a weather vane on top of the gazebo with the words “Wise Men Fish Here”. Eventually the boathouse developed structural problems and was torn down. The gazebo was moved back on land where it sits now. The “Dining Cabin” also sported a tennis court, which was eventually overtaken by the elements.

The “Main Cabin” and the “Dining Cabin” were connected by a wooden walkway that followed the basic path of the river. Henry and Katherine’s two sons, Henry III and Fred, were now in their early teens. A log cabin known as the “Boys’ Cabin” was built about halfway between the “Dining Cabin” and the “Main Cabin.” The two “Boys” helped in the construction and hence the name “Boy’s Cabin.” It was a very basic log structure with one bathroom, one private bedroom and two large open rooms, one at the down river end containing only beds and the larger central room with a sitting area around the fireplace and two beautiful custom bentwood beds. The walls were decorated with Henry III’s and Fred’s high school pennants, snowshoes, snow skis, a few stuffed animals and other sports items. There was a small screened porch and a very small dock. The “Boys’ Cabin” was often a favorite place for the teenage children and grandchildren as it offered some separation from the adults. The “Boys’ Cabin” always had bats which made it less attractive to the females of the family. We would often take the snowshoes off the walls to combat the bats.

During two years of rather dry weather, rattlesnakes had been found under the wooden walkway. Also the first two grandchildren were eighteen months-old and beginning to walk. This coupled with the problems in maintaining the wood made replacement necessary. In 1947 the wooden walkway was torn up and replaced by green colored concrete. Our initials can be found in the concrete by the “Boys’ Cabin.”

Other small buildings were two behind the “Main Cabin” – the laundry, which is now a bedroom and bath, and a garage/tackle room/outboard engine-firewood storage room, which is now a garage/bedroom/tackle room. There was a large garage by the “Dining Cabin” used for maintenance equipment, boat building and repair, and winter boat storage. Next to the garage was a gasoline storage tank.

At least two Au Sable riverboats were normally tied to the “Main Cabin” dock. The caretaker was usually a guide and the boats could be motored upstream with small outboard motors. Sheared cotter pins were common when the prop hit rocks, shallows or submerged logs. There is a path along the river upstream from the gazebo to Knight’s Bridge so we could wade a long stretch of river from Knight’s to the original cabin site.

Frederick B. Smith, Jr.

Our family cabin complex, Camp Ginger Quill, is located on the “Holy Water” about a half-mile upstream of Wakeley Bridge. As you float down from site of Knight’s Bridge, an old wooden footbridge which is no longer there, there was a beautiful view of the dining cabin, boat house and gazebo. Those building are now gone and a beautiful new log cabin have been build in its place. At the Dining Cabin the river bends ninety degrees to the left and flows down toward Ghoul’s Hole, passing both the Dining Cabin and the Boy’s Cabin on the right. At Ghoul’s Hole, a deep hole and home to many very large trout, the river takes another ninety degree turn to the right and flows past the Main Cabin. I have been told that the land directly across from the Main Cabin was the original site of Trout Unlimited.

The Camp Ginger Quill Boathouse

I have had a wonderful life. I have traveled around much of the world and lived in many beautiful places. My fondest memories, however, are of the times spent along and in the Au Sable River at Camp Ginger Quill.

Camp Ginger Quill was sold in the late 60s just as I was graduating from Alma College and about to enter the Air Force. I was the first of six grand children to leave Michigan. Of the two that remained, only one stayed in Bay City.

As my grandparents, who built Ginger Quill in the 1920s, eventually became too old and sick to use and care for it properly, they transferred ownership to their three children. These three families, all with children of college age at the time, didn’t have the means to maintain the property as their parents had nor did they all share to same vision for it’s use. The women who had previously been able to relax when they visited Ginger Quill were now forced to do all of the cooking and cleaning, often cleaning up after the previous guests. The men became painfully aware of the costs involved in maintaining the large complex, even at a minimal level.

Every attempt was made to sell the complex as a single unit but the first owner immediately split Ginger Quill into three parts, kept the Main Cabin and sold the two remaining parcels. The Main Cabin was eventually maintained by a partnership of several families. The Boys cabin was sold to an individual and the Dining Cabin fell into disrepair and had to be torn down.

Over the years I have returned to Michigan from our home in Texas to canoe and fish the Au Sable, each time stopping by Camp Ginger Quill hoping meet the new owners and share my memories. Finally about fifteen years ago there were people sitting on the Main Cabin dock. They were so eager to hear about my family and the history of Ginger Quill, I started gathering information and old photos to write my own history not only of the place but also of the magical quality it held. Mostly this history was written for my family, memories that we all shared but had begun to forget.

I was born in Jacksonville Florida in January of 1945 where my father was stationed in the Navy. Shortly after the war we moved back to Bay City Michigan where my brother Geoffrey and sister Mary Jo were born. After graduating from Alma College in 1967 I joined the Air Force. After officer school and a year of pilot training in Lubbock Texas I was stationed in Del Rio Texas for nearly five years. I met and married my wife of 42 years while in officer school and our only child, our son Scott was born in Del Rio.

After separating from the Air Force in 1973 I was hired as a pilot by Delta Airlines where I served for fifteen years in Houston and another fifteen years in Dallas, retiring 2003. We have since built a cabin in the Ozarks of northern Arkansas on the White River about five miles downstream from Bull Shoals Dam.  We’ve named the cabin Ginger Quill Cottage and are trying hard to encourage fly fishing on the White with limited success.

Sulpher Emerger

Trout fishing on the local rivers has been good for those looking to fish the hatches. After last week’s cool weather the bugs have been emerging and spinners returning to water throughout the afternoon with heavier numbers in the evening. With nice weather that’s forecast, look for the bugs to get back on schedule and make it an evening game. Both the Upper Manistee and the Boardman River have experienced Sulphurs, Mahoganies, medium brown Stones,  Black Quills/Borchers, March Browns and some caddis tan/brown caddis – #14. The riffle sections of the rivers have seen largest numbers of adults coming back to lay their eggs so look for the fish to sip the small spinners in the slick water just downstream. It’s a great time to have a lot of rusty spinner patterns in your box to imitate all of the spinners hitting the water.

The Lower Manistee below Tippy Dam continues to fish well with sub-surface patterns. Being a tail-water, the nymph bite is best, but keep an eye out for risers. The larger fish aren’t coming up so much, but staying down eating unsuspecting fry and stocked trout; those fishing streamers should start off with baitfish patterns like T&A Bunkers, Fin Clips, Deceivers, C&F Minnows and Cheech-Leeches to imitate the bigger fish where smaller fry patterns swung, dead-drifted and/or stripped are picking off both small and larger fish. Obviously mix it up to find out if they are being picky.

The bluegill/panfish and bass fishing on ponds continues to get better now that bright sun is warming up the water after the cool nights. Look for the gills to be on beds in the warmer lakes and don’t hesitate to fish with small nymphs if they aren’t coming to your spiders and poppers; I like brassies, damsel nymphs and bead head pheasant tails. Bass are moving closer, too, to doing their spawning thing so fish with some streamers and smaller top-water poppers and don’t be surprised if a pike enters the picture. Carp are starting to build again in the bays and since it is pre-spawn, they will eat the well presented fly in the afternoons after the sun warms up certain flats. Look for all “warm-water” fishing to improve over the next month for some of the best angling.

If out on the waters and in the woods, don’t play with matches – things are too dry and we can’t afford to have another forest fire start.

Ted Kraimer is a professional guide and fly tier, owner of Current Works Guide Service, and field editor for True North Trout. His fishing reports will continue to appear in T|N|T and on his website.

The Meridian Boundary Fire (Photo: MDNR)

The Michigan DNR has reported on the current state of efforts to battle and contain the two wildfires threatening areas around some of Michigan’s most prized and familiar trout fishing territories.

The MDNR is listing the larger of the two fires, the Meridian Boundary fire, as contained but not under control. The fire has burned approximately 7520 acres at this point in an area adjoining the South Branch of the Au Sable River, south of M-72, in South Branch Township. The MDNR has confirmed that a number of homes have been lost to the fire, but so far no reports of injuries or deaths. M-18 is currently closed from M-72 down to the Roscommon County line.

The fires has been moving south with the wind through the jackpines. The north line is said to be more under control, though the fire has come within one-half mile of the Mason Tract Chapel. The MDNR reports as well that the cause of the fire was burning debris.

The Range 9 fire is located in Kalkaska county on land adjoining the Manistee River south of Portage Creek. Reports are that that fire is contained and mostly extinguished. It has burned approximately 1040 acres. That fire started out as a controlled burn on a Camp Grayling artillery range. There are reports that the fire has destroyed some homes in the area.