There are times in our lives when we stop the dreaming and decide to make the object a reality and so it was Sunday morning when I decided to stop daydreaming about fishing the Betsie River above Thompsonville, Michigan and just Git Er Done!

This was a typical August morning that started off sunny and cool but would soon warm and make this fisherman thankful for breathable waders.  As I arrived at the river I knew this was my day as there were no other vehicles around and as I was about to enter the river a large doe on the hillside on the opposite bank stood there trying to isolate my position.

The clear rock and gravel strewn river made me glad that I had kept this mornings appointment with the river.  My first cast placed the brown stone fly right where I wanted it and no sooner than it entered the hole I felt the tug of a fish.  This was going to be a good day I thought.  And so it was on almost every cast I found a fish, not all monsters but some rather respectable.  Each cast seemed destined to fall where I had hoped and as I proceeded downriver my anticipation was high for that one fish that would make the day a moment to remember during the snowy months of winter.

This day taught me that the upper Betsie had a magnificent fishery albeit it was a creek chub fishery but I certainly caught some of the largest chubs of my life.  With that in mind I decided it was too nice of a day to spend it here and so I wandered off to the Platte while wondering where the trout in the Betsie might go on days like this one.