Dan Donarski is back – this time with a creative twist.  Check out this fly-fishing story – do you know someone who could play the starring role?

(Fly fishing after dark on rivers like the Indian and Escanaba in the UP, or the Au Sable, Manistee, or PM in the Lower, are simply pure magic. Here’s a scene that could feature you.)

Like Christmas for a young child wishing the time was now, not later. That’s what the day has been like. Instead of Christmas the wish was for nightfall, and the hopeful subsequent trout-rise.

A breeze of any kind barely rustled the leaves in the trees during the afternoon. The temperature rose so quickly into the low 90s, that a perceptible fellow may have felt the rush of air escaping through backyard thermometers as the mercury rushed higher. Even those unable to discern this could certainly feel the breezes from tempers rising even higher than the mercury.

“Perfect”, he thought sitting on an ancient fallen hemlock alongside the Indian River. Mosquitoes tormented him as they needled him as relentlessly as the sun’s heat had hours before. “Just perfect”. Even now, at just a hair past 9:30, with the clouds kissed in the hues of cotton candy, the temperature was still in the 80s. Save for the mosquito wings, that slight afternoon breeze was a distant memory.

Sweat ran down the middle of his back, across his brow, stinging his eyes as it trickled from his graying hair beneath the well-stained cap. His legs wrapped in old canvas duck waders were as wet from the sweat as if he had been wading all day in pants.

When he got to the hemlock an hour or so earlier, the deer flies and horseflies, the stable flies and black flies, seemingly all that bites and flies descended down upon him. Nothing on the river showed promise. Not even the ever present skipper brook trout, the style that come so small that once he set the hook they come skipping back at him, were out.

But that was an hour ago. The skippers were out now. Tell-tale rings from their rises expanded in ever increasing circles on the river’s still surface. Most were upstream, just behind the remnants of an old white pine that never made it to the mills in Manistique.

Over the past 20 years he had sat here, watching the pine. Each year there was less and less of it. Succumbing to the tugs of current, the crash of break-up ice, and the slow work of various mosses and lichens it was not quite what it once was. Not all that different than him. Still holding strong, but the holding was getting more and more precious.

As the cotton candy clouds turned from vivid orange to deep red he opened his fly box, choosing a scruffy looking pattern that used to be called a mouse. Tying the fly on the line in a loop knot of 10-pound test– thank God for magnifying glasses– he tested the knot with a quick heavy tug. Satisfied that the knot was right he continued to watch, and wait.

Nighthawks and whip-poor-wills slashed against the purple night sky. Above them a crescent moon slid silently further to the west like a silent canoe.

Finally he made a concession to the mosquitoes and started to apply bug dope. He was careful of the fly and the line. Using the backs of his hands as the spreaders he kept his fingers and palms repellent free. A few years ago some fly dope had come in contact with his line and the result was melted plastic and another $45 for a new line. Not to mention a ruined fishing trip upon its untimely discovery.

Just after 10 he thought he heard something in the river just upstream from his seat on the hemlock. Straining his eyes he could make out a doe and two fawns crossing the river. The doe was sure footed along the bottom while the fawns flailed away in the deeper sections, forced to swim.

The deer startled a barred owl when they came out of the river. The owl flew down the river directly in front of him, landing in a popple, or aspen tree on the other side.  Displaying its displeasure of having to move the owl’s call of “Who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-you-too?” echoed through the valley. It was joined by at least three others answering that questioning call.

His ears caught the familiar sound of a big trout feeding, that unmistakable sound of a big brown coming up for a bug, or a mouse, or something substantial in that huge discourteous slurp. He had once read that the sound was not unlike a pig falling off a diving board but to him it reminded him of an old girlfriend’s father and how he slurped soup.

Not long after came another slurp from the same location, pinpointing the rise. And then another from a bit upstream of the first two. Then another from just downstream. What was a barren river just two short hours ago was no alive with feeding trout. Under the cover of darkness, and urged on by the hatch of giant mayflies, the trout had come out of their hiding places and were now feeding. He thought that his old girlfriend’s father had all his brothers with him tonight.

He moved into the water slowly, gently making his way towards the nearest soup slurper. The water felt cool against the canvass and pulled at his legs.  Playing out line by feel he measured by sound the distance and let the tattered mouse fall near the last rise.  He used mouse flies almost exclusively at night, leaving the dainty mayfly imitations to the more cultured fly anglers.

In more of a heavy swoosh than a slurp the mouse disappeared. Raising his rod quickly he could feel the heavy pulse of a big trout as it dug for the cover of an undercut bank. His reel whined, his rod arced over, his face became taught. The big brown ran for the tangle of a bak-side sweeper. Putting more pressure on the rod, and from the rod to the fish, he turned it. Now the fish bull-dogged, straining for deeper water, straining to find the current. Soon, the fish tired, and slid into weathered ash and cotton mesh net. Twenty-two inches of Indian River brown trout.

The old man cradled the fish in his hands, letting the water run through its gills, gaining its strength back. He could feel the trout grow strong, and with a shake of its head and a thrust of its tail it disappeared into the inky water.

Five minutes later he heard another big fish. Again he measured the distance with his ear and sent the mouse pattern upstream. Another slurp, another hook set. The fish was now joined to the old man. Just as quickly as it had become fastened tight to the old man, the fish became unbuttoned. And, just as quickly as the bugs and the trout became active, they just as quickly quit.

The old man went back to the hemlock and sat down. He listened as the world went to sleep. Walking back to his truck his smile was wide.

Dan Donarski is an award-winning journalist/photographer and author. He specializes in the outdoors and adventure travel. When he’s not out and about he lays his head in Sault Ste. Marie.

While on a driving tour along the Au Sable River, Hannah Agran, Midwest Living assistant travel editor and Michigan Travel Ideas contributor, spends the night at the North Branch Outing Club near Grayling and tries her hand at fly fishing.

My husband Juan and I are somewhere north of Grayling, our cell signal fading, the sky darkening. If my printed directions fail us, who we will ask for help? Before I can answer, we see a rambling old place with a welcoming porch and warm glow from the windows. Judy Fuller pushes open the screen door to meet us.

The North Branch Outing Club once welcomed Henry Ford, Ernest Hemingway and Thomas Edison. Like us, they came to pull trout from the cold, clear stream that flows south past the inn to the Au Sable River. The Fullers bought and restored the lodge in 1997, creating a rustic retreat that breathes history and old-fashioned hospitality. (Yellowed photos of gents in waders hang in the stairwell; jars of pretzels and penny candy line the kitchen counter.) Judy sends us to bed with gingersnaps, and the gurgle of the North Branch sings us to sleep.

The next morning, we tug waders over our sneakers while Todd Fuller, Judy’s son and our guide, drags a flat-bottomed wood boat to the stream. He paddles; we soak in the beauty. Yellow iris bloom on postage-stamp islands. Birds twitter. A blue heron rises from the reeds. We wade into the stream, and Todd shows us how to loop the rod through the air, flick our wrists to mend the line, and watch where the current carries the fly.

Something nibbles, Todd shouts, I stumble backward in my oversize waders, and Juan’s laughter rings out over the water. I feel like a fool, but the trout is beautiful, speckled blue, green and orange in the palm of my hand. He doesn’t flop wildly, but seems strangely at peace with his predicament. Maybe he knows that if he waits just a minute—long enough for me to marvel—I’ll put him right back where he came from, in the cold, clear north branch of the Au Sable River.

Did Henry Ford and Thomas Edison, men who made their livings harnessing nature’s power, feel the same awe at such a tiny creature? Todd sure does. Squinting in the sun as he takes in the scene, he says, “I’ve seen a fish on a fly a billion times, but I still love every one of them.”

Hannah is the assistant travel editor at Midwest Living magazine and loves exploring the Sunrise Side of Michigan.

David Arquette, who is in town filming Scream 4, was kind enough to spend a few minutes talking with us about his love of Pure Michigan on Saturday.  We met up with him at Rear Ends, a clothing boutique in West Bloomfield, where his clothing line, Propr, can be purchased.

David hasn’t been shy about sharing how much he and his family have been enjoying their time here in Michigan – his Twitter stream is filled with pictures of sunsets, picnics, restaurants, and sporting events.  To honor his time here, he designed a special shirt just for us!

Don’t worry Spartan fans – we let him know that we wanted a green and white one too, and he’ll be releasing one soon!

We hope you enjoy the interview!

Patricia Mooradian, President of The Henry Ford lets us know exactly what to expect from the first annual Maker Faire Detroit  this summer.

A cupcake on wheels; Fire sculptures; Handmade hats; Robots playing soccer.

What do all of these things have in common?

On July 31 and August 1, you’ll find them all together in one place when Maker Faire Detroit takes over The Henry Ford, with more than 260 unique and wonderful creations  like the ones mentioned above on display at the home of innovation.

lifesize Mousetrap game

Created by the publishers of MAKE magazine and makezine.com, the original Maker Faire in California’s Bay Area draws tens of thousands of families, teachers, students, hobby and science clubs, as well as tech and do-it-yourself (DIY) enthusiasts each year to see what’s new and what’s next.

So just what is Maker Faire? Think science fair meets craft fair meets farmers market – from handmade crafts to technological inventions to local products and food, this is a hands-on, fun family-friendly event that celebrates the creativity and resourcefulness of everyday people, many from right here in the great state of Michigan.

If you’ve ever wanted to know how something is made – or even taken something apart just to see how it ticks – you will love this event. It’s a tinkerer’s paradise, with just about every incredible invention and design you can imagine. We think it’s a pretty perfect fit for The Henry Ford: future creators, surrounded by the great inventors of the past.

But it’s not just displays and demonstrations; there are plenty of opportunities for you to roll up your sleeves and become a Maker yourself.

Have you ever wanted to make a model rocket? You’ll learn how, and then set it off on the front lawn of Henry Ford Museum.

You can learn how to turn scrap materials into something entirely new, like cereal box pencil boxes and personalized wine cork key chains, create simple machines using recycled industrial scraps, or learn how to knit or crochet a section of a scarf added to by thousands of other visitors to Maker Faire Detroit.

electric muffins at Maker Faire

I hope to see you at Maker Faire Detroit!

As president of The Henry Ford in Dearborn, Michigan, Patricia Mooradian oversees the development and implementation of every aspect of the institution’s business operations and strategic positioning with emphasis on attendance and revenue growth. Committed to driving economic development through cultural heritage and tourism, Mooradian maintains the historical integrity of the institution while focusing on the progression of the business through strategic alliances, a strong community presence, and ongoing funding initiatives.

Kendra Williams, Midwest Living travel editor and contributor to Michigan Travel Ideas, spills the details from her recent enviable spa experience at the Crystal Mountain Resort and Spa.

I’ve been to many spas throughout the Midwest, but none of those prepared me for my experience at Crystal Mountain Resort and Spa in Thompsonville (45 minutes south of Traverse City.)

The pristine outdoor meditation garden where I sipped on cucumber mint water and nibbled on mixed nuts studded with dried cherries.

Opened in 2009 and considered the only LEED-certified spa in the Midwest, the 11,000-square-foot Crystal Spa exudes pampering, tranquility and the serenity of nature. Frosted glass doors have long twigs somehow frozen inside the base of them. Ceramic tiles in shades of taupe, brown, tan, surprising hits of lavender iridescence accent in the huge showers.

Rolled white towels line a shelf and there are curling irons, blow dryers, makeup mirrors, cotton balls, toothbrushes and toothpaste in the women’s locker room. A hostess asks me what size shoe I wear, and based on that, leads me to a locker filled with towels, a fluffy white Sherpa fleece robe and sandals in my shoe size. I choose a four-digit code to lock my locker, then pad out in my robe to the mediation area. It’s a huge sitting room with a long gas fireplace at one end and a crystal-bubble-style chandelier on the other. I step out into a meditation garden with three stone water towers, lounge chairs and a jetted in-ground hot tub.

The bubbly and inviting hot tub in the meditation garden.

I was asked to arrive half an hour early and am so happy I did. I had plenty of time to get into my robe, settle into a lounge chair, sip some cucumber-mint water and nibble on mixed nuts studded with dried cherries. It’s all about getting into the relaxed frame of mind before your treatment. I definitely did.

For my treatment I choose a fresh air facial ($95 plus gratuity). Sherrie, my clinician, compliments my skin (the only time in my life when “pasty white” is a benefit) and leads me downstairs to my dimly lit treatment room. Piano music tinkles through the room as I settle in the heated bed. Sherrie returns and mixes the wasabi mask and carrot puree cream for my facial. After Sherrie applies the wasabi mask, she wraps my face in hot towels and gives me a hand and foot massage while the mask works its magic. At this point, I decide the staff would need a crowbar here to pry me out.

The treatment lasts for 50 magnificent minutes. Afterward, I put on my robe and linger in the meditation garden. I stay out here for nearly an hour, content to listen to the bubbling water fountain a little while longer before returning to my busy day.

Kendra Williams has been a writer and editor for 15 years. She is currently the travel editor at Midwest Living Magazine and oversees the magazine’s annual newsstand-only travel bookazine, Best of the Midwest.

Runaway with George Zimmermann on board crossed the finish line in Mackinac of the Pure Michigan Bayview Mackinac Race at approximately 2am this morning.  Listen to his final audio blog about his experience aboard the Runaway and check out some more amazing pictures taken during the race. 

Download audio file (final.mp3)

The race may be over for Runaway,  but you can follow the rest of the action on our site!

As the Pure Michigan Bayview Mackinac Race continues, listen to this audio blog from our own George Zimmermann on the Runaway from earlier today.

Download audio file (sundayam.mp3)

And remember all the boats are equipped with a GPS tracking system, and we are proud to be the exclusive host of the live tracking.  Follow Runaway, and all the action on our site!

It’s a beautiful morning in Port Huron as our own George Zimmermann and the crew of the Runaway get ready to start the Pure Michigan Bayview Mackinac Race.

Listen to George’s audio blog and check out the slide show of what is happening in Port Huron as they get ready to race.  Check in later tonight for an update on the Runaway’s progress.

Download audio file (porthuronam.mp3)

All the boats are equipped with a GPS tracking system, and we are proud to be the exclusive host of the live tracking.  Follow Runaway, and all the action on our site!

The Pure Michigan team is on the ground at the Blue Water Fest in Port Huron. Check out these pics from the event!

Tomorrow morning, our own George Zimmermann is setting sail aboard Runaway in the Pure Michigan Bayview Mackinac Race. All the boats are equipped with a GPS tracking system, and we are proud to be the exclusive host of the live tracking. Follow Runaway, and all the action on our site!

Thanks to John Palmer of www.MichiganMicrobrews.com for helping us celebrate Michigan craft beer month!

July… It’s easily one of the greatest months of the year (in my opinion). Summer vacation is in full tilt and people are out enjoying all that Michigan has to offer; the immense state parks, the vast amount of freshwater coastline, the beautiful weather, and craft beer.

Michigan Beers

Wait, what did I just say? How could I even compare the growing splendor of the Michigan outdoors to the product of a microbrewery?

It’s easy for this beer blogger. July is Michigan craft beer month. It’s legitimate! Breweries and craft beer bars all across this amazing state are celebrating with events, specials and even releasing some one-of-a-kind brews, likely to never be seen again. And it’s possible you live right by one of these places and don’t even know it!

Currently (and gaining ground), Michigan ranks #6 in the country in number of breweries and brewpubs with a brewing industry that contributes over $24 million in wages and a total economic contribution of more than $133 million. With 80+ such locations all across Lower Michigan and the UP, now is the perfect time to enjoy what Michigan has to offer.

At Founder's Brewing Company, enjoying a MPG IPA (Mango, Papaya, Guava) and Death (a black wheat wine). Cheers!

To make it easier, the Michigan Brewer’s Guild is hosting their 13^th Annual Michigan Summer Beer Festival (July 23-24) in Ypsilanti. Here, festival-goers will have the opportunity to sample a variety of over 300 different brews from over 50 breweries. This event showcases how truly amazing the Michigan brewing industry is.

To think that we live in a state with such outstanding resources and products… it’s hard not to feel spoiled. This is a great time for all involved – the producer and the consumer.

What else could be more Pure Michigan then sitting on the beach, sipping a pint of your favorite hometown brew, and knowing you’re supporting your local economy. It’s a win-win!

So on this day, til the end of July, raise a pint of some Michigan craft beer and cheers the state of Michigan: The Great Beer State.

John Palmer is freelance marketer and current stay-at-home dad. An advocate of the Michigan brewing industry, John blogs frequently at www.MichiganMicrobrews.com and hopes to share his passion for Michigan craft beer with all craft beer enthusiasts and beyond. Cheers!

Share your favorite Michigan beers with John on Twitter (@MichiganBrew), or by leaving a comment below!