Rooting for the River

Au Sable Canoe Marathon winners, approaching the finish line.

I can sum up the fishing I did on our trip last weekend quickly: It sucked. Morning hatches of Tricos and Slate wing olives were sparse, risers scattered and finicky. I caught three brooks about 8-9" on Friday from the North Branch Au Sable, a single, smaller one from the Mainstream on Saturday. I would have expected better hatches and a lot more feeding at this point in the summmer. Unfortunately, I didn't get out for the afternoon, when terrestrials might have done well.

On the other hand, the Canoe Marathon on Saturday night/Sunday morning was amazing. While I've never been very enthusiastic about spectator sports, I couldn't help being drawn in to the excitement of watching seventy-some canoes paddled at top speed and jostling for position in the narrow upper river, or sharing in the anticipation of a couple hundred fans crowded onto a bridge at midnight, waiting to see the leaders pass by. My heart sunk when one of the teams competing for the lead hit a delay (what I didn't quite see) that set them back a few seconds while portaging the final dam. And this without any particular concern with who won or lost.

Still, I can't say I had no emotional investment in the race; it just wasn't attatched primarily to the competitors. I do have a strong attatchement to that river. Participating in the spectacle of the Marathon, one knows a bit more of the life the Au Sable has, and that it brings to those who encounter it.

Aside from its setting, this competition has another great advantage over most spectator sports: you don't have to sit in one place for three hours. You arrive at the landing or bridge, wait a bit, watch the racers pass (and actually you could do that for over an hour if you wanted to), then drive on to the next viewing point. It's the perfect event for fans with short attention spans.