Before the internet, Youtube, streaming this and Netflix that, if a sportsman wanted to watch a hunting or fishing show, he needed to find it on the TV set. Outdoor shows were few and far between, and nothing like the GoPro and ShotCam footage any guy with a license can get if he has the scratch to afford it.
In the ‘80s, I was proficient with a Mepps spinner on the lakes and ponds near my Saginaw home, clueless that life would lead me north one day to learn there are fish called “trout” in this world, something far more alluring than stunted farm bluegills and bass. But in those days, I was glued to any program where pros like Babe Winkelman and Jimmy Houston hauled in lunkers from under log jams and sunken docks.
Often, you’d hear them telling you to fish “structure,” though that term actually refers to the contour of the bottom or a lake or river, such as points, shoals, and drop-offs. “Cover” is a better term to describe what’s in the river to provide concealment and shelter to fish — like logs, vegetation, docks, etc. — though my wildlife professors way back in college never liked the word much because it was too vague, something sportsmen used to describe everything a particular animal needed, like food, shelter, concealment, and breeding and nesting areas. It really is relegated to shelter and concealment, though good cover does include many of the other necessities, or they’re found in close proximity.
Well, fast forward a bazillion years and I’m in a bend of the Boardman River staring at a huge log jam watching brook trout dimple the water as they nab ants in the surface film. The subsurface “cover” created a nice pool where a slower current basically lined up each ant like a buffet, then offered a quick getaway to hide.
Wood that’s in a stream and provides food and cover for trout is called — get ready for this — “in-stream wood habitat” — a phrase I learned from Steve Largent, retired wildlife biologist with the Grand Traverse Conservation District. We were chatting about the importance of wood in a river while enjoying nine holes of golf at a local course, ironic because he spent much of that day in the woods looking for his golf ball.
Anyone who fishes or canoes or kayaks the Boardman River and has lived here longer than about nine days knows Steve. I’ve had the privilege for longer than I can remember — a finer river guardian and knowledgeable spokesman for our local gem you will not find. Someday I’ll have to write about his contributions, but for now, let’s discuss a topic he feels strongly about, the importance of wood in a river ecosystem.
Most of the “in-stream” wood sites along bends and turns in our rivers are simply an accumulation as it enters the system, either tipping over because of old age or a weather event, breaking off in high winds, or rotting and gradually falling/decaying into the water.
“Wood provides so much more complex habitat for aquatic insects to burrow into,” when I asked him of the difference between wood and rocks. Rocks offer attachment for some species (caddis), and a substrate for fertilized eggs, but nothing compared to wood, which infuses life into a river as it breaks down, giving off vital nutrients to the water as well as a place where aquatic insects can burrow. In the fall, the influx of leaves — especially when they break down — adds energy to the ecosystem, sort of jump-starting things again after a long summer of low water and warm temperatures. Just what a river needs heading into winter.
While most logjams and woody bends are natural, some are indeed man-made, something which Steve is experienced in. He’s quick to note that while any wood in the stream is good, some serve a better purpose for trout. Firming up an eroding bank might deal more with angling large ballast logs to work against the current, to “roll the river flow away from the bank,” as Steve put it. But creating woody habitat to benefit aquatic life is a different approach.
In his expert opinion, the more diverse woody cover is, the more it benefits the trout, which mirrors his motto, “When in doubt, err on the side of the trout.” More to the point, it really means that their goal isn’t to help fishermen catch more trout, though that happens indirectly by providing excellent habitat for their survival. Frankly, many of the larger logjams are inaccessible to anglers’ casts but perfectly hospitable to all but the largest of fish. Often, the smaller fish can find refuge there, especially if layers of different sized logs and branches are “stacked” within the cover.
And all of this fine organic, particulate matter also attracts insects, which of course attracts baitfish — the two main types of organisms that trout and other fish eat. Stacking this more diverse “micro slash” increases the effectiveness, not to mention that a thick snarl of underwater woody cover gathers and holds more material floating through the system.
Brett Fessell, restoration ecologist for the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians, echoes Steve’s feelings about the importance of in-stream wood. “Fish, invertebrates, and vegetation emerge in the ecology developed by the actions of hydraulics under the influences of wood complexes,” he said, adding that “the more diverse the habitat (bed, banks, flow, biology, ecology), the healthier the river.”
When asked what type of wood is best for the river, Steve added that white pine is nice for its diameter and branch structure, though oak is hard and takes a long time to break down. But the micro-slash will often be comprised of “little aspens woven among the larger wood to make a trout nursery,” a great place for smaller trout to thrive while also seeking protection from larger predatory fish that can’t get at them.
As a parting thought, Steve was quick to point out that lakefront owners can apply these concepts to their own properties. Clearing a runway to the water surely allows for better viewing, but is easily the worst thing you can do for wildlife, especially for fish, for all the same reasons mentioned.
Walk to the water’s edge to see it, and if a tree falls, let it lay.