Oftentimes it seems we adults get wrapped around the axle when it comes to fishing. We "need" the newest graph, the best rods and reels, the wonder baits, the biggest fish and, of course, to accomplish all this, a boat. I received a lesson from my kids a while back. And it’s a lesson that can be re-taught to each of us within a 30 minute drive from anywhere in Michigan. All you need is a lake, river or pond.

The boat wouldn’t start when we got to the bay. Karen didn’t seem to mind. "That’s OK dad, we don’t need the boat. We’ll just fish off the dock. The dock will be fine."

Eric agreed. "Yeah dad, we’ll catch fish off the dock."

Fishing off this dock in years past has been worthwhile. Karen and the neighbor’s little girl caught a mess of nice yellow perch last summer in late August. Earlier in the summer she caught bullheads, white perch and more than one sheephead gave her quite a struggle.

On the way to the cottage we bought bait, candy, hooks, candy, bobbers, candy, sinkers and no, not more candy, but those Cheetos fried to a crackly-crunch. Oh yeah, and some soda pop. (Mom, the Supreme Ruler of the Free World, was out of sight.)

We arrived at the cottage late in the day, full of promise. Karen ran down to the water.

When she returned her expectant expression was softened to resignation if not dejection. "Dad, come look at the water. It’s green."

It was certainly green. That pea soup algae didn’t look inviting.

OK, dad, I thought, gotta come up with something quick or it will be an awful long week. "Karen, remember when I’ve told you that bright light sometimes makes the fishing real bad and cloudy days and early mornings are often better than at noon because it is not so bright? Well, kiddo, this pea soup will help keep the water dark so we might even have better fishing."

"Really?"

"Sure, kiddo. You bet." (I hoped.)

It was my job to mind the rods while the kids went for candy or pop or Cheetos or all three. It was also my job to keep Eric from performing crude, rock-tossed autopsies on a few dead carp that he found along the beach.

We even caught fish. Sheephead were numerous, as were perch. Eric did come up with the best catches. One evening he brought in a channel catfish. One morning he found himself attached to his ScobbyDoo rod while a 4½-pound smallmouth found itself attached to it, too.

On the drive back home to the Soo I told Karen that she was right, that we did catch fish off the dock.

"I like the dock. You never know what is out there. It’s simple, dad," she said. "You don’t have to worry about rocking the boat or anything. It’s simply fishing."

Right again kiddo.

Pan fishing, fishing off the dock, or off the bank, or even from a boat is simple. You need a rod and reel. Nothing fancy mind you, a simple outfit will do. Six pound line is just fine, four would be even better. Hooks in the No. 8 or 10 sizes. A few split shot and a bobber. For bait a dozen worms or crawlers, maybe some wax worms. That’s all.

Well, not quite. When fishing with kids it is absolutely vital that you fish somewhere where the kids are going to catch fish. I know that sounds like a no-brainer, but it isn’t. This fishing excursion isn’t about you catching fish; it’s about the kids catching fish. Size doesn’t really matter. They just want something tugging on their line and feel the fish while they reel it in.

The best banks or docks will be those that allow you, or them, to cast the line into four feet of water or more. Set the bobber three feet above the bait so the bait goes to a foot or two off the bottom. There is no need to be in water more than six feet deep. There will be fish there if there are any weeds at all.

If you do have access to a boat, look for water in the eight to ten foot range. The edge of a weed bed is a great place to anchor. Bobbers here are optional. Simply have the kids let the weight go down to the bottom and then reel in a foot or two of line.

Bluegills, pumpkin seeds, crappies, perch, bullhead and a host of other species are just waiting for your kids to send them down some food.

One more thing, bring a bit of patience and snacks.

Hot Spots
(These areas may not have the biggest fish in the water, but they will produce panfish for you and the kids.)

Southern Lower

Big Portage Lake, Jackson County
Click here for Jackson County fishing info

Kent Lake, Oakland County
Click here for Kensington Metropark info

Mona Lake/Muskegon Lake, Muskegon County
Click here for Muskegon State Park info

Northern Lower

Spider Lake, Grand Traverse County

Cooke Dam Pond, Iosco County

Lake Cadillac/Lake Mitchell, Wexford County
Click here for Lake Cadillac/Lake Mitchell fishing info

Upper Peninsula

Fortune Chain of Lakes, Iron County
Click here for Iron County fishing info

South Lake/Big Manistique Lake, Mackinac County
Click here for Manistique Lakes area fishing info

Prickett Dam Backwater, Baraga County

Travel Michigan has received permission to reproduce this article.

Eastside business owners David and John O’Leary are providing enough paint to cover the 6,000 square foot Reach Studio Art Center in REO Town as part of a renovation project.

Reach us a non-profit art center that’s been open since 2003. The exterior paint is peeling and in need of repair. 

“No major renovations have been done since that point,” says Reach Outreach Coordinator Jessica Swisher.

In 2008, 732 young people and 251 adults participated in Reach’s programs.

Through their company, O’Leary Paint, the O’Learys have donated enough paint to give the studio a much-needed makeover. From 9 a.m. until 6 p.m., Saturday May 30, dozens of community volunteers will paint Reach, working in three-hour shifts to ensure the building is finished by the day’s end.

O’Leary got involved with the project after talking with a member of the Arts Council of Greater Lansing, who mentioned that Reach needed help with a renovation.

“It’s such a worthwhile cause,” David O’Leary says. “It’s an easy one to get behind. We’re lucky to have people like this in the community. If this isn’t a worthwhile project, I don’t know what is. It didn’t take a lot of selling.”  

The rain date for the project is Saturday, June 6. For more information, click here.

Source: Jessica Swisher, Reach Studio Art Center

Ivy Hughes is the managing editor of Capital Gains and can be reached here. 

All Photographs © Dave Trumpie

Start your island day on the mainland, at Cheboygan's State Street Coffee Company (211 W. State St., 231-597-9575) for a cappuccino and croissant. Buy a bag of roasted cashews for the ferry trip to Bois Blanc Island, a quiet Lake Huron hideaway only eight miles away. The Plaunt family has run their Plaunt Transportation passenger ferries out of Cheboygan for more than 75 years (412 Water St., 888-PLAUNTS). Take your car across if you wish—reservations required—or book passage for your bike. There are no rentals in Cheboygan or on the island.

On the 40-minute trip over, set your sights on the freighters plying the Straits, and a glorious view of the Mackinac Bridge.

Debark and set out: The winding dirt shore road that circles the secluded 12-by-6-mile island is a flat and easy bet for biking. The speed limit on the island is 25 miles per hour everywhere—a blessing for bikers—but still watch for cars wending around the bends.

Three miles east of the ferry docks, find Bob-Lo Tavern (231-634-7100) for chef-owner Barb Schlund's spicy dill pickle spears and a Bob-Lo Burger, topped with shredded slow-cooked ham. Before an island treat of fried ice cream anointed in Kahlua, sneak in a round of shuffleboard on the vintage board in the bar.

Another mile east, take a dip at the beach between Rosie Point and Snake Island. Locals named it Snow Beach, as it's one of the only sandy;not rocky shores on the island. Dry out in the sun before circling back the way you came past the island woods filled with chicory, ferns, Queen Anne's lace and black-eyed Susans. End up at Hawk's Landing (231-634-7375), a restaurant, gas station and general store within sight of the ferry docks. Pick up some Bois Blanc paraphernalia and a treat (owner Missy fixes fine apple pies, strawberry shortcake and banana splits to meet the whims of the islanders), then head to your ferry home. Most days the last ferry from the island leaves at 5 p.m. and the Plaunt family runs a tight ship.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

By Elizabeth Edwards with permission from MyNorth.com.

Whether you come by air or sea, Beaver Island's 60 square miles of beautiful terra firma beg exploring. The quiet back roads that wend out of Beaver's only hub, the village of St. James, lend themselves to mountain biking (fat tires are a must for the island's miles of clay-gravel roads). Bring your own bike, or stop by Lakesports' Paradise Bay Gifts and rent one (231-448-2166). Once your wheels are turning, set your sights on the picturesque 46-foot Beaver Head Light on the island's south end. There, you'll climb the circular wrought-iron staircase for a big blue lake vista. You might turn around before you make it the full 18 miles (remember, you'll need to ride back to St. James to catch your ride to the mainland). That's okay, the spectacular tapestry of forest, rocky shoreline and dune beaches you pass along the way are a destination unto themselves.

Stoke up for your ride at Dalwhinnie Bakery and Deli (231-448-2736), where everything from the bread to the bear claws are homemade. Pack along a ham and cheddar on cheese bread for a beach picnic. As you head south on King's Highway, take a moment to stop into the Old Mormon Print Shop Museum  (231-448-2254) to learn about this island's rich history—and why the road is called King's Highway. (Hint: Beaver Island once had a king.) Pick up Elizabeth Whitney Williams's book Child of the Sea. The author grew up at the Beaver Head Lighthouse in the 19th century. Now get pedaling. You'll want time to lounge on the beach by the lighthouse and let Williams's book make this beautiful spot come alive.

Getting to Beaver Island: The 32-mile flight over Lake Michigan from Charlevoix is less than a half hour (Island Airways, 800-524-6895; Fresh Air Aviation, 888-359-7448). The ferry the Emerald Isle takes two hours (888-446-4095), but the payoff for the extra time is freshwater spray on your face. For island lodging info contact the Beaver Island Chamber of Commerce  (231-448-2505).

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

There's much to be said for the traditional shoreline ride around Mackinac Island  (877-847-0086). Lake Shore Boulevard, the eight-mile main loop, is, after all, Michigan’s only state highway that’s absolutely automobile free. But bikers can also steal away into the forest for quiet trails. Just be prepared for some heart-pumping hills.

For a woodsy escape, ride up the center of the island, past Fort Mackinac, to Garrison Road. Be ready to pop the kickstand and ramble around historic sites; along the way, you'll come across old stone-walled Protestant and Catholic cemeteries, Skull Cave and the battlefield-turned-golf course, Wawashkamo. Garrison Road dead-ends at Lake Shore Boulevard, where you’re treated to a panorama of the spectacular five-mile Mackinac Bridge  that links Michigan' Lower and Upper Peninsulas.

Pedal along toward the island' southwest lobe to spot some of Mackinac Island's most famous features. Arch Rock, a stand of fragile brecciated limestone, is instantly recognizable and a popular photo-op. Several winding bike trails and carriage roads, most of them paved, lead back to another famous limestone tower: the pockmarked and craggy Sugar Loaf, a ritual burial site of the island's early Native American inhabitants, juts up 75 feet into the air at a horseshoe in the pathway.

QUICK BITE: Try Mary' Bistro  for relaxed dining at the west end of Mackinac Island's historic downtown. Think chicken potpies, and sirloin with horseradish sauce and grilled bananas. Grab a seat on the back patio to watch the rooster-tailed ferries zip in and out of the harbor. 906-847-9911.

YOU SHOULD KNOW: Established as a national park in 1875 (second only to Yellowstone), Mackinac Island State Park  became Michigan's first state park in 1895. Eighty percent of the island is still parkland.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

The Sun Theater in Grand Ledge has undergone an internal and external makeover.

“We’ve really made a big change in terms of the things that we’re doing now in addition to movies,” says Chuck Pantera, owner of the Sun Theater. “We’ve has some concerts, a battle of the bands and many music shows.”

The Pantera family owned the theater from 1989 to 1999. In 1999 they sold it to another family who then made some major renovations including putting in new seats and updating the screen and sound system.

In September 2008, the Panteras took the theater over again and decided to move beyond movies and create more of a community gathering space.

Pantera’s daughter, Emily Pantera, is working with local community college and high school students to create a short film festival.

“We wanted to get people back into the theater to watch their own works,” she says.

High schools from around the state have also showed interest in these film festivals, which Emily hopes will become a staple at the theater. Emily says she’ll talk to any group who has an idea for theater. The Pantera’s hope to update the theater’s façade in the upcoming years.

Feb. 22, the Sun Theater will host Echoes of Pink Floyd, a Pink Floyd tribute band that will play live music while the Wizard of Oz plays on the Sun Theater’s screen.

Source: Chuck Pantera, Sun Theater

Ivy Hughes, development news editor, can be reached here.

 (This article first appeared in the November/December 2006 issue of Michigan BLUE Magazine and is reprinted here with the permission of the writer and MichgianBLUE Magazine)

If you’re ready for an adventure that takes you off the beaten trail, head for one that’s gone to the dogs.

Learning to mush sled dogs across the Upper Peninsula in 20-degree weather may not be everybody’s ideal travel excursion.

But I happen to produce a television program that features outdoor adventures that families can enjoy together — activities that are a bit off the beaten path, maybe, but aren't so extreme as to preempt the average viewer from considering getting off the couch to try them.

This is how I discovered Iditarod racer Ed Stielstra and his wife, Tasha, who are sled dog mushers in McMillan. Their business, Nature's Kennel, and passion, breeding and raising dogs to run the Iditarod, are found less than one hour from the Upper Peninsula's scenic Tahquamenon Falls State Park.

From first snowfall through early May, the Stielstras (who own just over 100 adored and enthusiastic canines) conduct dog sledding adventures for the general public. You can take a two-hour ride with them from their kennel in McMillan; you can also catch sled rides from them at Boyne Highlands in Harbor Springs on most winter weekends. Or if you have an adventurous spirit; Ed and Tasha will teach you to drive your own five-dog team.

Equipped with the right attitude, a little training and a willingness to immerse yourself in the challenges and elation of an Iditarod participant, you're ready for a 25-mile, overnight trek through rarely seen wintry regions of the Eastern Upper Peninsula.

My two-day, overnight excursion began at 8 a.m. with greetings and breakfast at the Stielstras; McMillan home and kennel. Our group, at the maximum of six. then headed out for our first sled driving lessons. We learned how to harness a dog and drive the sled before embarking behind a guide along a three-mile practice loop. After lunch at the Stielstra home, we packed our own hobo dinners of meat, potatoes and vegetables in foil packets for cooking later over a campfire. Then we broke apart to each meet our personal team of five dogs.

Mine, Hairy, Dill, Jack, Feta and Violet, included overactive players who couldn't wait to hit the trail. These guys are all wired to run, noted Ed, who was the ninth musher to register for the 2007 Iditarod. The ones who get left behind get pretty upset (Maple, lying pitifully on his doghouse, head on paws, illuminated that sentiment).

For me, the challenge of learning something new is always enjoyable. Ed, Tasha and their guides spent a significant amount of time with guests, teaching us how to properly harness the dogs, hitch them to the sleds and fashion them with booties, if needed. They also demonstrated what to do if we slipped off.

Hooking up the team and leaving the kennel are probably the most intimidating parts of the whole trip. There is no slow acceleration, there is only go! It's a balancing act that entails a little adjustment and a short practice run. Physically, it isn't difficult at all: 70-year-old women and 12-year-olds have made this trip, including winter camping, which is surprisingly warm. (Participants on our run were shedding layers after our first long trip.)

Transforming from timid, uneasy spectator to confident, excited participant is an exhilarating process, and our trip was more than I imagined. The trail system gently wound through an endless array of pine forests, inland lake shorelines and serene, open fields. Frost glinted on various leaves and thistle stalks lining the trail. Once running, the dogs quickly quit barking. The silence was amazing.

As quickly as the day started, it came to an end: Meeting the love of your life on a dinner date and talking for hours straight through until dawn comes to mind as a similar experience. Winter camping is less romantic, unless you can appreciate that you are experiencing exactly what mushers do at an Iditarod check point.

Ed earned 46th place in the 2006 Iditarod. The ultimate dog sled race, stretching from Anchorage to Nome, is equivalent to driving from Detroit to Atlanta in sub-zero weather with minimal food, safety gear, one big gun, the unpredictability of an Alaskan winter — and good odds for an untimely demise if you or one of your dogs gets hurt. The indescribable bond between musher and team is the fuel that drives their spirit on the frozen trail. Survival depends on each taking care of the other. This deep simplicity emerged as we anchored the sleds, removed the dogs from their leads, checked them for bruised or cracked paws, supplied hay for sleeping and fed them their evening meal.

The camp consisted of a rustic outhouse and two tents: one for the guides, one for the guests. Ours was a canvas-walled enclosure outfitted with basic bunks and a steadily burning wood stove that kept the interior 40 degrees warmer than the outdoor temperature. It was no Sheraton, but there was real joy in cooking our self-made hobo dinners over a blazing campfire, while sharing hot cider, coffee and stories from the day's journey.

Bundled on the bunks in insulated sleeping bags, fleece hats and, in some cases, long johns (although I was completely comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt), sleep came easily and quickly for everyone.

A haunting, wolfish howl shattered the silence at dawn, followed by another, then a dozen more. Soon the cacophony of yelps, barks, dog chains and banging tin pans enveloped our camp. We were greeted by sun just cresting jack pine and birch, and the smell of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and coffee wafting from a crackling campfire.

The dogs were yelping in excitement, another run lay ahead. Adrenalin closed in. None of us could wait to leap into the wind and onto the winding trail leading home.

Byron Goggin hosts the Emmy winning Wild Weekend. Lisa Jensen is editor of  MichgianBLUE Magazine.