When is the last time you went fishing with your Dad or your Son?
These Lake Nipigon Trout are the same strain that produced the World Record, Brookie 14 lbs. 6 oz. Grayling are exceptionally strong fighters and rock hard to the touch. "They are a joy on the dry fly." The whole lake is yours exclusively! When you fish Brookhaven Lake, you are renting the entire lake. This lake has over 20 flowing springs feeding into it from the shoreline. The actual ground above these springs feel cold on your feet.
Brookhaven Lake is dedicated to the Michigan patron saint of ﬂy ﬁshing and writer extraordinaire, John D. Voelker, aka, Robert Traver.
This 40 acre ﬁshing preserve is hereby dedicated to him. Someone we never met, but who has had much inﬂuence on the three generations of ﬂy ﬁshermen that make up our own family tree.
Our forefathers were Swedes who came to the U.P. to work in the mining industry. To us, ﬂy ﬁshing is almost a religion. Our sacred books, read to our sons and daughters at bedtime were “Trout Magic” and “Trout Madness”. “Doubtless God could have created a better writer of ʻﬁsh tailsʼ than Robert Traver, but doubtless He ever did.” Of all the native sons of Michigan, his cast the largest shadow. “Bumps” to you, John. Donʼt ketchum all!!
Back in the days before the invention of cup holders inside of cars, Mr. Voelker would drive his “ﬁsh car” on two track logging roads. The front seat passenger's sole job was to watch out and warn the driver of deep upcoming “bumps” in the road that would spill the ice cold drink from the can wedged between the driverʼs nuggies. Later it became a form of saying “cheers” when the boys from “the lodge” got together for drinks and to play cribbage for the world championship.
Thanks to Thomas Wellington Cole for teaching young John Voelker to ﬂy ﬁsh. Additionally, thanks to the two “Georges”, one being Johnʼs father, who installed in him the love of the outdoors to his son, and the other being my father who must have been either Lewis or Clark in a past life.
How these two men held down jobs with all their ﬁshing is beyond a mere mortal like me. Fond memories to Arvid Ivar Johnesson (Mikeʼs great grandfather), the only guy I knew who could catch a trout while napping beside a river, player of cribbage and the worldʼs best penny any poker player. We never did ﬁnd where you buried all the money. (Itʼs da truth).
Finally, thereʼs someplace in Michigan where kids can see a live arctic grayling instead of just seeing a “stuffed ﬁsh” on the wall of a restaurant in down town Grayling.