This angler tries casting flies at sundown. Hex flies attract big trout.

It's time for the big brown trout to turn on after sundown. It happens this way almost every year once the Hex hatches begins.

The night turns hot and close, and silent daggers of heat lightning dance across the blackened sky. Everything is silent except the murmur of the river current tugging at your legs or gliding with a soft hiss under the riverboat.

If you are placed just right, and are tossing just the right fly, sometimes from out of nowhere comes the rapier-like strike of one of the river’s biggest brown trout. There are people who fish only after dark, and although I do fish during the day, there's something about casting a big streamer, large floating bass bug or even a more colorful streamer to these big fish. Some folks also enjoy working a hole or run with a four-inch Rapala or Rebel and fairly stout monofilament.

How you fish depends on the area, your temperament and why fish at night.

It's time for the big brown trout to turn on after sundown. It happens this way almost every year once the Hex hatches begins.

The night turns hot and close, and silent daggers of heat lightning dance across the blackened sky. Everything is silent except the murmur of the river current tugging at your legs or gliding with a soft hiss under the riverboat.

If you are placed just right, and are tossing just the right fly, sometimes from out of nowhere comes the rapier-like strike of one of the river’s biggest brown trout. There are people who fish only after dark, and although I do fish during the day, there's something about casting a big streamer, large floating bass bug or even a more colorful streamer to these big fish. Some folks also enjoy working a hole or run with a four-inch Rapala or Rebel and fairly stout monofilament.

What you use depends on your temperament, where you fish, and why you fish the midnight hours.

One of the most exciting methods is to use big streamers. Large Muddler Minnows, Buzzsaw and other big flies are cast quartering across and downstream, and ripping it through the water. You'd think this type of hard-and-fast streamer fishing would spook wary browns. Often, it's just the opposite. It can really turn them on.

Fishing in the dark or light of the moon is a pleasing time.

I've talked with several people who have stood under a full moon or a partial moon, made their cast, and began stripping line hard. They tell of large wakes that follow the streamer, and on occasion, those big trout will hit and nearly wrench the rod from your hands.

Four of us floated the AuSable River one evening, and one of the anglers hit a big fish. The take sounded like someone had thrown a big dog in the river, and the fish ripped off line, rolled on top several times, headed upstream and back down, and there was no controlling the fish. It slipped the fly after nearly 10 minutes of nonstop action.

This is no place for dainty rods and light tippets. Anglers who practice this method (it also works during the day) know just how much work it is. The constant casting, and rapid stripping of line, becomes very tiring but some people can do it all night. Not me! I want to enjoy fishing, and not have to wear myself out to do it.

I used to fish the Sturgeon River years ago when it held some good brown trout, and I liked a big, white, hairy deer-hair mouse. It stuck out like a big sore thumb on a dark night, and even I could see it. I'd cast across and downstream, mend the line to obtain the longest drag-free drift as possible, twitch it once or twice, and then cast again.

The neat thing about this method was the strikes were visible, and very few fish under four pounds were hooked. The largest that I recall was caught by the late George Yontz, who owned the old Hillside Cabins just north of Wolverine many years ago. His fish, if my memory holds true after all these years, weighed 13 1/2 pounds.

The Sturgeon River browns, back then, were either silvery fish that ran upstream from Burt Lake or the great golden-brown fish with big hooked jaws and a kype as big around as the smallest joint on your little finger. Some kypes were an inch to nearly two inches long.

One other method was practiced on these big fish. Casting a medium-sized Rapala or Rebel quartering across and downstream, and let it dive and wiggle on a tight line. Once the current carried the lure across stream until it hung directly below the angler on a tight line, the rod tip would be jiggled two or three times to give the lure a bit more action.

Night fishing can produce unexpected strike. Be ready for action.

Some walleyes were in the river at times, and it was easy to determine which fish was hitting the lure. A walleye would tap-tap-tap the lure as it swung in the current, and hit softly once it finished its drift. A big brown trout would hammer the lure hard, and a strike could come at the end of the drift or as soon as the lure hit the water. A few fish reminded me of an outfielder standing, glove on hand, catching a fly ball.

The trick, regardless of which method we used, was to wade down two or three stretches of river during ithe day to learn what was or was not wadable or had too much current. Wading the river helped prevent tripping over submerged logs and otherdebris. Such things could make a night fishing adventure far more interesting than most anglers need.

Hot, muggy nights were usually the best. The mosquitoes would be on the prowl, and any exposed skin would provide a meal. Now an angler could hang a ThermoCell insect repellent on a nearby tree branch, and most of the mosquitoes would go elsewhere.

But hooking a six-pound or larger brown trout after dark is just about as much fun as a fisherman can have while wearing waders. There were a few very special nights where two or three big fish were landed, but most people considered hooking one big fish a rare treat.

Put them back, and try for the same fish again next year. Those big ones aren't very good to eat, and deserve to be caught more than once. Fooling the fish, and enjoying the battle, is what brings us back year after year.

Unforgettable whitetail bucks are those big critters you see, and although they may be very close or a considerable distance away, weather conditions or other factors conspire against taking a shot.

I'm so mindful of a hunt some 30 years ago in Georgia with Bill Jordan, he of the RealTree camouflage pattern fame. We were hunting land just outside of Calloway Gardens that Jordan had leased for years. My trusty pre-1964 Winchester Model 70 in .264 Winchester Magnum was with me, and it was topped by a 1 1/2 X 10-power Swarovski scope.

Jordan pointed me at a tree with spikes pounded in, and up at nose-bleed altitudes was a stand. The sad thing about this great spot is Bill is tall and lanky while I am short with a 28-inch inseam. Those steps suited him well but were a good six inches too far apart for me. I tried to climb it, got six feet off the ground, and backed away from trying to climb any higher. Safety harnesses were not in vogue back then.

He described the buck as “massive,” and I was hoping to see him.

Yonder hill was fine, wind-wise, and I found a nice spot with a good view of the swale that held deer and the closest hillside. Jordan told me there was a 180-class whitetail buck with great huge antlers. I sat on the ground, and watched the swale and hill 150 yards away, and figured if that buck moved out, I'd send him a 140-grain air mail package.

The time passed slowly, and several respectable but smaller bucks stepped out to feed with the does, and this was well before the rut. I glassed every buck that walked out, and none fit Jordan's description.

I watched a 140-class buck for several minutes, and knew that Jordan had shot some trophies with a bow and knew that he knew the difference between a 140- and a 180-point buck. I returned my attention to the hillside, and saw one big deer feeding behind a roll in the hill. Its upper body was visible but any head gear  was not visible.

Body-wise, it looked like a blocky old buck. It was big enough in the body to meet Jordan's description, but the head was still down and out of view. The deer kept feeding along, pausing every few feet for a few minutes, but not once did he raise his head.

He acted as though he would walk up out of the little slot he was in, and I took a firm rest across my knees, and continued to watch the deer. The crosshairs settled on the its spine but my finger stayed off the trigger.

The deer kept its head down longer than I'd ever seen any deer do so, and then it dawned on me that it was relying on a big doe that was 10 feet uphill. That made me doubly suspicious that it was the big old buck Jordan had told me about.

It was probably the buck but no antlers were visible.

The deer kept moving slightly away from me, but I know my rifle and knew what it could do. Even a 200-yard shot would be easy to make, and I’d made many such shots at nice bucks in the past.

Eventually the sun went down, and I'd watched this deer for 90 minutes and it had never raised its head. I kept the scope trained on the deer as it kept moving, and glanced at my watch every few minutes. The deer was now approaching 200 yards, and still his head stayed down.

It can't be a doe, I thought, she'd be raising her head constantly. The little roll in the ground was flattening out, and I knew that soon the deer would reveal itself as a big buck or doe.

The cross-hairs were on the spine, and if it turned out to be a buck, a minute shift in my aiming point would put the scope on the heart-lung area. My watch showed five minutes to go, and with the light condition being what they were that evening, things were getting fuzzy around the edges.

Time was running out. I’m mentally urging him to raise his head.

One minute to go, and I estimated the deer would be visible from the head back. The view of that deer was getting milky looking, and then it happened.

It was a buck, and a huge massive rack loomed up in the gathering darkness. I flicked off my safety, and as I did, the shooting time and the light ended. I sat there, my scope trained on a buck I no longer could see.

My view for a split second was of 11 or 12 high and heavy tines, an almost impossibly wide spread of nearly 26 inches, and G-2s and G-3s that appeared to be 12 inches long and very thick. There was a sense of great mass to this buck, and it had to be the one Jordan told me about.

I hunted that buck for three more nights, and never saw him again. It's a buck I'll always remember because I had been hunting less than a quarter-mile from Calloway Gardens, and figured that most of the resort's visitors had no clue this giant buck lived nearby. I figured he would gross well over 200 inches.

He had lived a very long life, and having seen him for that brief instant, had changed my life and how I would look at and think about big bucks in the future. He truly was unforgettable.

We were looking for the first steelhead of the spring, and Betsie Bay below highway M-22 between Frankfort and Elberta was filled with ice floes.

The above expression is an old one. Old-timers occasionally utter the phrase 'the ice is talking' during any period between freeze-up and ice-out.

It can happen with two feet of ice or a mass of floating ice floes. Common to most fishermen is the loud crack as the ice heaves during the winter. It's something like shifting plates of land during an other. One plate of ice meets another, pushed itself under another plate of ice, and there is a booming noise.

One of nature's neat early-spring sounds.

Today, as we looked across the ice from the Frankfort side, in hopes of leaping a few leaping steelhead moving upstream, the talking ice was more list a soft and intimate conversation.

There were soft little hisses, almost like a purring cat, and the occasional clanging aa two ice floes collided. The sounds the ice was making include what sounded like a soft chuckle as if someone were softly laughing at a joke.

We've all heard the gurgling of river water washing around the end of a fallen tree in the water, and that sound was hear today.

Another one of the many sounds was a soft murmuring, strangely similar to two people speaking very softly or whispering. It is a soft sibiland noise, and one must listen closely to differentiate between the other sounds.

We checked the Bay from several locations, and everywhere except at the M-22 bridge where the only sound we could hear was the sluicing sound of river water flowing beneath our feet.

Understanding the many sounds of talking ice.

Everywhere we went was the sound of the water saying goodbye to winter, and welcoming in what we hope will be an early spring.

Try as hard as we could, it was impossible to find any steelhead today. We need a soft and warm rain, a rise in current flow, and the rising level of river water caused by a building run-off.

That rain, snowmelt from the swamps, with peck away at any remaining river fish, and that shelf ice will break away from land, making its own form of ice talk.

It's quite obvious that anglers have more time to wait. Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame Guide Mark Rinckey of Honor (231) 325-6901 summed it up quite well.

"It's anyone's guess how long it will take for the steelhead to arrive," he said. "It could be a week, two weeks or longe, and it all depends on the weather. One thing is certain: the fish won't be running until the ice is out of the bay, and some warm falls to raise the water temperature."

Listen to the words of steelhead guide Mark Rinckey.

"Snow melt, and rising water levels in the river, will trigger steelhead runs. Like many things in nature, we have to wait until all the conditions are right, and then the fish will come."

Until then, my day today with Rinckey, and my oldest son David, was enough. Speaking only for myself, I found the very rewarding.

I don't really know what the ice was telling me except to be patient in my wait for the spring spawning run. That point was made very obvious as I listened to the ice talk.

An uncovered haybale blind and covered one.

It’s time for a quick question and answer session. What is the warmest blind for winter deer hunting?

The deadliest and most unconventional but warmest blind in the deer hunting woods seems to have escaped the attention of many hunters. At first guess, many late November and December hunters feel a heated on-the-ground or elevated stand is best.

Not to my way of thinking. For my money, a hay-bale blind beats whatever else comes in second-place. It has many advantages, and one disadvantage. Hunters afflicted with hay fever shouldn't hunt from a hay-bale blind.

Haybale blinds are great for coyoe, deer and fox hunting.

These blinds are like dipping snuff. It can leave you rather sneezy, but you won’t be sold.

The solid points in favor of these blinds are many and all are valid. Here are solid reasons to use such a blind.

1. Hay-bale blinds can be constructed from big round bales or the smaller and more manageable rectangular bales.

2. A round bale blind is made by putting two round bales together at an angle to form a capital "V". Put a sheet of one-inch marine plywood over the top, and stack six or eight rectangular bales on top to provide a warm and dry roof over your head.

3. Hatbake blinds can be made without a top although there is a slightly greater chance of deer or predators catching your scent when hunting from an uncovered blind.

• The trip here is to stay back in the shadows to remain hidden.
• I always wear a face mask and brown Jersey gloves.
• Avoid movement when hunting haybale blinds because often are close.

4. A rectangular blind requires quite a few rectangular bales.

• Pile as many bales up on the left and right sides, and behind you, and put a chair inside to sit on.
• Stack the bales at least two high in the front, and leave just enough room to crawl over and to shoot through.
• Cover the top with plywood and more bales, and you are set.
  • The disadvantage of this blind is if one or two bales get bumped, the blind can fall like a house of cards.

Hunters stay back from shooting window.

Of the two, my favorite is made of two round bales. Five minutes with a tractor to move the two round bales together, laying a sheet of plywood on top and several rectangular bales on top and in front to form a shooting window, and the blind is completed.

Any hay blind placed early in the fall in a key location where deer regularly travel will pay off when November and December rolls around. The deer get used to it, and by the time the winter archery season rolls around, it will entice deer to your area.

Key spots for a hay-bale blind is near the edge of a cornfield, in an open field where two or more trails converge, or back in the woods where a good trail carries a great deal of deer traffic. Wooded hay-bale blinds are much more difficult to construct. Most people place them in open fields or close to heavy cover.

Put haybale blinds in key locations and don’t near them until hunting season.

5. This blind is warm. Unless the shooting window faces directly into the wind, this is the warmest blind possible. Wet hay builds a certain amount of heat, and hunters can stay warm in the most brutal weather.

Human odor isn't a problem with hay blinds. The heavier odor of hay serves to cover human odor inside the blind.

6. Of major importance to me, and to others who use such blinds, is they offer straight-out, horizontal shots at whitetails. There is none of the problems of shooting downward while sitting or standing in a cold tree stand or elevated coop, and deer often walk within six feet of a hay-bale blind. The shots can be easy to make unless the hunter suffers from buck fever.

The hay absorbs almost any noise. I've coughed, sneezed, and done other noisy things in a hay-bale blind without having nearby deer hear it. Of course, any movement visible through the narrow shooting window can be seen.

Deer often take three or four days, and sometimes as much as a week, to become accustomed to the blind. Even though it’s best to put hay-bale blinds in place early, it can be done anytime.

If I were a hunter with a new hay blind, I would not sit in it for a week. The one exception to that would be if a major winter storm was due to hit that morning or evening. Every deer in the area will be on the prowl before the storm hit, and I'd suggest being in the new stand early before a storm hits.

If snow falls before the deer move, so much the better. It will help cover any human scent, and it can produce the occasional big buck.

Hay-bale blinds are not difficult to make, and they provide everything a December bow hunter could want:

• no scent
• being as warm as toast
• good visibility when properly placed

Winter deer hunting just doesn't get much better than that. An added bonus is that these blinds are great places to call coyotes and foxes.

The thing that many anti-hunters are against are wounded animals.

I have people contact me, and some say they are ill-prepared for the shot. A bad hit is the result of jittery nerves, buck fever and the inability to shoot straight when an opportunity presents itself.

People who regularly hunt make killing shots. Most of them hunt with a bow, even during firearm seasons, but others also hunt with a muzzleloader or center-fire rifle. When they aim at a deer, and pull the trigger, the animal goes down and dies instantly.

Good shooting often means taking your time & not hurrying a shot.

There is no long, lingering chases to finish off the animal. There is no long hours spent blood-trailing a deer for miles. There are no cases of someone taking a hasty shot, and making a bad hit.

These hunters have one thing in common: they can shoot straight, and they don't miss. One man has shot eleven bucks, and he takes only one each year. Five were taken with a bow and none ran over 75 yards, and four died when the arrow sliced through both lunes..

The other two deer were taken with a flat-shooting rifle with a 140-grain pointed soft point. Both deer were hit low behind the front shoulder, and both deer died instantly where they stood.

Another man shot a big 10-point this past fall after he had hunted the animal into December. The buck made a mistake, walked past the hunter, and one arrow killed the buck. It went just 50 yards and tipped over.

What do these men have that other sportsmen don't have? They have the patience to wait for a clear shot, and the ability to put an arrow or bullet in that spot.

They practice shooting all year. The centerfire rifle usually doesn't come out of the gun safe until just a week before the Nov. 15 firearm opener. They may shoot the rifle a dozen times in one day before the season opener, and they are familiar with their bow or firearm. They know that when the rifle's cross-hairs center the heart-lung area that the deer is dead but doesn't know it just yet.

Shooting once or twice a year won’t make you a good shot.

An old hunting question has been around for more years than I can remember, and it goes like this: People don't ask, can you? They ask, did you?

They know that when they put the bow sight behind the front shoulder of a buck, that animal will go down. They shoot regularly, never exceed their shooting abilities by taking long bow shots, and they know how and when to draw and shoot. The deer they shoot are unaware of danger because these hunters plays the wind every day.

These men and women are not casual hunters. They work hard to learn as much about deer as possible. They know how and where deer travel, and soon learn when the animals will come near their stand.

They never take hurried shots, and never take a low-percentage shot. They know that tomorrow may offer a better shot, and are willing to wait until all conditions are in their favor. They never make a mistake when shooting game, and they respect those animals they hunt.

I once shot a 6X5 elk in New Mexico at 350 yards. Elk are big critters, and when my Swarovski scope's crosshairs settled low behind the bull's front shoulder just as he finished bugling and he'd emptied his lung, the trigger was squeezed and the bull died instantly

Another time I shot a very nice mule deer across a side canyon along the north rim of Arizona's Grand Canyon with a 7mm Magnum at 450 yards. One shot, and down he went.

Hunters must practice, and I don't pretend to specialize in long shotsm but I only shoot when I know from past experience that I can make that shot. Some of it is practice, and most of it is knowing that the shot can be made. Both of these shots, no brag. were instant kills.

Hunters who can do this on a regular basis have no need to brag about their prowess, never make the deer appear dumb or stupid, and they never show the animal any disrespect. Many have learned over time that hunting means more than just killing, and also know that the meat from these animals will grace their table all year 'round.

Practice shooting, but perfect practice every shot, should be your goal.

They know that hunting is something more, much more, than killing a small deer with tiny antlers. They are willing to pass up young bucks, knowing that two or three years on a buck will allow them to take a trophy buck of their dreams.

They are hunters, 365 days per year, and that is why many are so deadly in the autumn woods. They have the patience, skill and practice to do everything right. They don't have to think about it but just react to the situation.

Thinking too hard on anything can make it more difficult than it should be. And that, my friends, is a direct quote.

This buck was photographed when there was little snow.

Hiking was pretty slow going as I went from knee- to thigh-deep.

I kept looking for deer tracks in the snow but didn’t find any.

When food gets scarce, does fight anything for food … even their fawns.

The snow is deep and few deer are moving during shooting time.

Few hunters are out after deer, and fishing in streams has been poor.

We need a break although snowmilers and cross-country skiers are happy.

Two type of hay-bale blinds. Usually the hunter sets farther  back in each one.

A hay-bale blind is warm as toast as long as the wind doesn’t blow in.

Place hay-bale blinds close to a food source such as a corn field near a trail.

These blinds produce heat and absorb most small noises.

A buck like the one on the right was my goal today.

The northwest corner of the Lower Peninsula has a shortage of deer.

Is a return to limited baiting on tap for next year. It does draw more hunters.

It’s not a big buck but seeing it today would have made me feel good.

Uncooperative whitetail bucks. A day when few deer of either sex moved.

A few deer moved on the drive home but not many.