Minnesota North Shore Road Trip, June 2023
I’d like to thank everyone in the iNaturalist community who helped make this trip possible. I made most of my plans to stop and fish based on observations present on this site. I hope some of my observations serve the same purpose for others.
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Over the winter I began planning a road trip up the north shore of Lake Superior for new lifer microfish. I came up with a list of 8 or 9 species and a variety of different spots to hit from Duluth to Grand Marais. The final destination, Grand Marais, was of particular interest to me because of the somewhat hard to come by species (i.e., ninespine stickleback, lake chub); plus, I had never been to the area and it looked gorgeous. The number of observations at Grand Marais also gave me the impression it was teeming with life. During my time in the UP, I rarely saw juvenile or small fishes in the nearshore zone of Lake Superior, regardless of habitat. Sometimes I’d see what I think were juvenile logperch or lake chub on the sand beaches, but that was infrequent. Needless to say, I was preoccupied by the idea of catching stickleback on Lake Superior.
Fast forward to late June, and I decided it was a good time to leave central Wisconsin albeit the somewhat shaky weather forecast for the north shore. The winds seemed amicable, but scattered thunderstorms appeared unavoidable. I left in haste with a car packed full of fishing gear and some clothes Tuesday morning and headed straight for Superior, Wisconsin.
JUNE 27, 2023
My first goal for this trip was to catch a ruffe and (western) tubenose goby on the St Louis River. I knew there were ruffe present in decent numbers and I was informed that tubenose goby were also relatively abundant (see USGS page). I began my mission at the upper end of the river, figuring I’d work my way downstream. I first attempted under the Oliver Bridge on the east shore and was met with a swarm of angry, nest-guarding rock bass that were just barely out of sight due to the turbidity. I quickly moved across the river and picked up the micro gear for tubenose goby, but only found an assortment of johnny darter and other familiar fishes by the boat launches and creeks.
I moved two a few other spots but was met with either limited or questionable access. Somewhat defeated, I made my way over to the Superior fishing pier and decided to chuck some worms out deep for ruffe and whatever else would swim. After some welcomed bycatch, I was able to catch a ruffe casting out with a small piece of worm on a size 12 long-shank hook. It had been a while since I had held one of these odd invasives. The lightly speckled dorsal fin called back to the sauger and walleye, while the body shape resembled more of Moronid. They are interesting looking fish, and I admit that I know very little about them aside that they have sporadic distribution in Lake Superior river mouths and embayments.
After landing the ruffe, I moved to the Park Point Boat Launch in search of a tubenose goby. I was able to catch round goby, and in retrospect my failure to catch a tubenose was likely due to the habitat I chose to fish. Tubenose goby prefer macrophytes as cover, but I had been spending my time fishing sparse rocks over sand. Eager to move north and avoid an inbound storm, I thought it’d be wise to catch another new species that was in route to the north shore. I made my way to the Twin Ponds, just north of Enger Park, and was able to catch a goldfish floating a redworm in a few casts. With two new species under my belt, I decided to call it a day as the rain began to come down in buckets.
JUNE 28, 2023
My plan for Wednesday was to work my way up slowly to Grand Marais, fishing every nook and cranny I could for whatever was present. I started at McQuade Harbor early in the morning, looking for signs of life in the marina but found nothing moving between the rocks. I then shot up to Two Harbors, eager to find a ninespine stickleback but found nothing along the boat launch and oredock shore. At this point it began to rain consistently and I was starting to lose faith on new species for the day, so I decided it’d be best to fish rivers with a worm and float.
This part of the trip is sort of a blur, mainly because it was so haphazardly planned. I remember stopping at a handful of random rivers based on vibes alone and nothing else. The first river that passed the eye test was the Beaver River. The smooth rocks were slick from the rain and mud and I nearly fell into the river multiple times just making my way down from the parking lot. I arrived to the plunge pool in one piece but only was able to catch common shiners. I wasn’t sure what to expect at this spot, but it certainly wasn’t common shiners.
I moved on to the Baptism River and hastily bought a state park pass to fish the mouth of the river. I climbed down some steps and floated a redworm right at the mouth of the river, letting the seiche dictate where my bait would land. Using this technique, I was able to catch a steelhead parr headed for the lake and a white sucker. In retrospect, it may have been a good idea to throw a worm on the bottom here as I’m sure the suckers (perhaps white and longnose) would have been active with the slowly increasing flows. Either way, I was happy with what I caught and was eager to move on.
I remember skipping past quite a few rivers and checking out the Sawmill Creek area due to all the finescale and northern redbelly dace observations around Wolf Ridge. The access to other stretches of this river were either poor or a marshy, buggy purgatory and I scrapped the idea of chasing dace here after an hour or so burning gas and daylight. I decided to check out the Fall River instead, as it was near Grand Marais and looked pretty cool from the map. The hydrology of this stream was super interesting; flashy is an understatement. The steep banks were lined with crumbling slate that harbored only a trickle of water. I could only imagine what it would look like after snowmelt and spring rain. I decided to fish below the falls instead and was met with major resistance from the terrain. After slipping, “mountain-goating” in sandals and being devoured by plants and bugs, I made it to the base of the falls slightly scathed but undeterred.
About 100-200 feet of the Falls River was accessible to Lake Superior. Essentially, the waterfall created an impassable barrier with a prominent plunge pool but the stream outside of this was inches of gushing water over colorful, palm-sized rock. Even with the limited amount of stream available, it was evident that potamodromous salmonines successfully spawned in the stream. I poked around at the edge of secondary pool by the footbridge and saw a decent amount of micros milling around. I tied on a new size 30 dry fly hook and was quite pleased with what I found. I was able to land my first northern redbelly dace and a few angry sculpin. I had a hard time getting the other species present to bite; I think there was a mixture of different dace and possibly lake chub hiding there. Either way, I was pleased with what I found and decided to move on to Grand Marais.
At this point, the rain is intermittent and would have made sight fishing difficult. I decide to poke around a few streams for trout and was met with mild success dipping worms in extremely shallow pools. At these particular spots I was terrorized by mosquitos. I then went towards the Grand Marais lighthouse, thinking I would scope out the spot as I was excited to see what it looked like. The fog was thick but upon walking on the trail, I saw dozens of small fish poking in and out between slabs of rock despite spurts of rain. I immediately turned around and tied on a half moon tanago hook and made my way back over to the concrete trail. The first fish I identified and targeted was ninespine stickleback. I could see the striped pattern from the water’s surface and figured they had to be ninespines. They were curious but not super aggressive, swimming up to the bait and staring at it before taking small tentative bites. I think catching this fish was the highlight of the trip for me.
I made my way down the trail and found lake chub in swarms. These fish were relatively spooky but also willing to take a bait. I was surprised at the sheer amount of them weaving in and out between the rocks, especially since this was the first time I’d seen one in person. Among the rocks and lake chubs were also threespine stickleback. I got the impression that most of these fish were guarding nests or territories, as they would zip around small areas and were brightly colored. I struggled getting them to bite despite their aggression, but got one uncooperative individual. In the past, I have only seen them as steel-colored, so the light blueish green and red accents across the body were interesting to observe. Despite the poor weather, I was able to squeak out the three new species I wanted from this spot and decided to call it a day.
JUNE 29, 2023
With the previous day being a resounding success its only fair that this day was a complete and utter failure. I woke up in the morning and returned to the lighthouse, hoping to get some more micros and better pictures since the rain had subsided. However, it was much too windy and small waves were breaking against the concrete. Even though I probably could have found a few nooks protected from the wind with fish milling around, I decided it wasn’t worth it and thought I’d fish my way south. I think the first place I stopped was the mouth of the Temperance River, which was (unsurprisingly) high and muddy from downpour overnight. A large school of suckers were hanging out about 10 yards away from the waterfall where the deeper water began to slow down. I was able to catch a white sucker and a longnose sucker using a size 4 octopus hook with a third of a nightcrawler. I also had a small Corky float above the hook, as I figured this could reduce snagging if the bottom was littered with branches. This was the only spot of the day where I caught fish.
I must have hit 5 or 6 different streams or rivers but I could not get anything to bite. No trout, no creek chubs, no suckers. Nothing anywhere. I decided to shoot for the moon and attempt surf fishing at a few spots, but that was a lofty goal doomed to fail. The most promising of these spots was the Silver Bay breakwall, but I saw no surface activity or fishing moving anywhere in the clear and calm water. I also figured casting a swimbait and spoon off the Two Harbors lighthouse was worth a shot. It seems like one of those areas where you could luck into coho salmon or lake trout if the water temperature is right, but I was also skunked there. In 12 hours of fishing, I had caught two suckers. Not every day can be a winner.
JUNE 30, 2023
I concluded my trip by giving tubenose goby one last shot in Duluth. Sadly, I was not able to find this fish in some of the more vegetated areas of the estuary but the wind and water clarity were making this task difficult. I decided to fish the Billings Park Pier one last time before calling it a trip and make my way back to central Wisconsin, stopping at a few different micro spots on the ride.
Overall, I was able to get 6 new species on this trip, a few of which would have been really difficult to come by elsewhere. I was hoping to get 10 new species by hook and line this year and I’ve already met that goal, so the new benchmark is 20. Now, I’ve got to figure out how to catch a trout-perch…
