Along the Shore

An increase in water temperature within a lake or river can have a devastating impact on aquatic invertebrates. | KALLI HAWKINS

Aquatic insects contribute to healthy river ecosystems

By Kalli Hawkins

NORTH SHORE—Underneath the gurgling streams and rivers along the North Shore is an expansive network of little creatures that provide a glimpse into the overall health of a river’s ecosystem.

The northeast region of Minnesota is rich in diverse habitats and wildlife species. The dense boreal forest, wetlands, and riparian zones support notable species such as moose, bears, wolves, Canada lynx, and eagles, among many others. While the more prominent species tend to steal the spotlight, the smaller aquatic invertebrates, such as caddisflies and stoneflies, underneath the water’s surface, play a valuable role in the ecological health of a region.

“They are extremely sensitive to changes in habitat conditions,” David Houghton, a professor in the Biology Department at Hillsdale College in Michigan, said. Due to the high level of sensitivity, Houghton said the species is considered a biological indicator.

Caddisflies are benthic invertebrates that scour the streambed, eating leaf droppings and phytoplankton while searching for a suitable rock, log or stick to attach to by producing silk. During the metamorphosis phase, the aquatic species builds a cocoon of sorts, called a casing, out of accumulated organic matter found in the slow-moving parts of a river or lake. Similar to stoneflies and mayflies, it relies on dissolved oxygen in the water for survival.

An increase in water temperature within a lake or river can have a devastating impact on the species, as cold water contains more dissolved oxygen. In addition, water quality issues due to acidification and pollution can harm the longevity of aquatic invertebrates.

A caddisfly larvae.

| NSF & MACROINVERTEBRATES.ORG

Along the North Shore tributaries, numerous species of fish, including the native coaster brook trout, rely on the caddisfly and other aquatic insects for sustenance. “If you lose that link in the food chain, you’ve essentially just stopped the food chain,” Houghton said. He explains that avid anglers or people passionate about fish should be aware of issues impacting this crucial link in the food chain. “There is no ecosystem without them.”

Houghton has spent his career studying aquatic insects across the Midwest, including the North Shore of Minnesota. During his dissertation work at the University of Minnesota in 2001, he was invited by Dr. David Etnier, a former professor at the university, to stay at his cabin on the Ontario side of Saganaga Lake at the end of the Gunflint Trail. Etnier and Houghton spent the week sampling caddisfly species on Saganaga Lake and nearby streams. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to rest as they spent the day catching lake trout to study stomach content and, by night, sampled insects using ultraviolet lights near streams and lakes.

The intense and fun week was a success. In total, Etnier and Houghton documented 120 different species of caddisflies in Minnesota and Ontario, of which, 32 of the species had yet to be discovered in Ontario. “It was truly an awesome experience,” Houghton said. “It was probably the single best week of my entire dissertation.”

In addition to documenting species on Saganaga Lake, Houghton has spent time sampling species on the Brule River and Cross River on the North Shore. There are approximately 185 species of caddisflies documented in Cook County. When comparing the arrowhead region of Minnesota to other areas across the nation, Houghton said it is “some of the most pristine and undisturbed habitats anywhere east of the Mississippi River.”

Stoneflies.

| KALLI HAWKINS

“The whole Boundary Waters area and the surrounding wilderness is some of the healthiest and most intact ecosystems left in eastern North America,” he added. “Just an amazing place.”

The Minnesota Pollution Control Agency states that 74 percent of the fully assessed watersheds in the arrowhead and northeast region meet water quality standards for aquatic life. While watersheds in central and southern Minnesota only meet 16 to 37 percent. Several pollutants, including phosphorus, ammonia, bacteria, nitrogen, and chloride, are the leading causes of contamination of many of Minnesota’s waterways. However, state agencies and non-profit organizations are focused on repairing and improving habitat conditions in many lakes and rivers.

The Duluth-based Gitche Gumme Chapter of Minnesota Trout Unlimited has been active in habitat improvement projects across the northern region and North Shore. In recent years they have conducted work on the Kadunce River, east of Grand Marais, including stream improvements for spawning fish and planting cedar and white pines along the riverside to prevent erosion and sediment. While the chapter has conducted a handful of habitat improvements across the northeast region in recent years, flooding during the spring of 2022 created some challenges and disruptions of projects.

While there are many uncertainties related to how climate change will impact a lake or river’s overall health, Houghton says he is more concerned about the changes associated with the hydrologic cycle. “Droughts, flooding, and groundwater changes are really difficult to predict. I think it’s going to be a problem.”

Small aquatic invertebrates, such as caddisflies, play a valuable role in the ecological health of a region.

| UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA

Over 20 years after his week-long dissertation experience with Etnier, Houghton shared they still keep in touch. While Etnier retired from the field in 2001, he left a lasting impression on Houghton and many in the aquatic insect ecology field. Etnier dedicated his life’s work to studying aquatic insects and helped discover over 410 species. The scientific community honored him by naming seven species after him. After his retirement, Etnier stayed involved in teaching and research. He taught classes at ChikWauk Museum and Nature Center on the Gunflint Trail in 2019 and 2020.

By sharing their research and passion for aquatic insects, Etnier and Houghton hope to inspire others to get outdoors and be curious about the diverse world underneath the water’s surface.

Thank you, Clarence

By Scott Thorpe

As we all experienced, the last few years saw a significant increase in outdoor recreation as Minnesotans headed out in droves to get away from urban areas. The North Shore seemed to take the brunt of the exodus, or so it seemed. State parks and wayside rests were packed with canoers, campers, bikers, anglers, and hikers. Campgrounds were filled and the overflow set up their tents or trailers on logging roads, beaches, and even in private driveways. Parking lots were congested and traffic was bothersome. At the same time, no trespassing signs sprouted as residents reacted to the invasion. As an avid angler, I discovered new restrictions along the Brule River, the Sucker River, and Palisade Creek, where a no trespassing sign was stuck into the ditch on the Highway 61 right-of-way. Hopefully, some of this is only temporary.

The Brule River flows through Judge C.R. Magney State Park, located about 14 miles northeast of Grand Marais.

| TONY WEBSTER

Adjusting to the new restrictions made me really appreciate the state park and wayside rest system by which we, the public, have access to the rivers and waterfalls of the North Shore, including the Baptism, Split Rock, Cascade, Brule, Onion, Cross, Kadunce, Temperance, and Gooseberry rivers. Consider the effort that our forebearers went through to secure these scenic landscapes as public property, open to all. How limited would our outdoor recreation opportunities be if all these rivers were essentially private like the Manitou?

One to whom we owe a great deal of debt is Clarence R. Magney, the person responsible for many of these acquisitions and the namesake of the state park on the Brule River. Magney was originally from Pierce County in southwestern Wisconsin, in the Driftless area. After receiving an undergraduate degree from Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, Minn., and then a law degree from Harvard, he moved to Duluth and fell in love with the North Shore. There he practiced law, entered politics, and was eventually elected mayor of Duluth in 1917, where he championed the expansion of the city’s park system. In 1943, he was appointed an associate justice on the Minnesota Supreme Court. While leading a very busy career, he was involved in many community activities and served on many boards. Most importantly to us, he was devoted to protecting waterfalls and scenic watersheds along the North Shore. Magney took the initiative to identify important parcels, lay out the rationale and prepare bills to the state legislature, and then use his considerable influence to assure their passage. In some cases, he even made outright land purchases in anticipation of legislative approval. A total of 11 state parks and wayside rests are in part due to his tireless efforts.

Clarence R. Magney was devoted to protecting waterfalls and scenic watersheds along the North Shore.

| DANIEL HASS

The state park that bears his name, Judge C. R. Magney State Park, located about 14 miles northeast of Grand Marais, is one of my favorite places to fish for steelhead. The Brule River, which flows through the park, is difficult to fish. Most of the river below the upstream barrier is canyon-bound and nearly impossible to reach. During spring run-off, its generally un-wadable. It doesn’t seem to draw the numbers of steelhead that some much smaller neighboring streams do, but for sheer ruggedness and beauty, it’s awe-inspiring, even intimidating, which is why I like it.

The Ojibwe called the river Wiskode-zibi (Half-burned Wood River), which was translated by the French into Brulé, anglicized to Brule. For a brief period in the early 1970s, it was called the Arrowhead River. The watershed was heavily logged of virgin timber by the late 1890s, and second growth timber was logged just after the turn of the century for a pulp plant in Grand Marais. This section of the North Shore wasn’t developed until 1925 when Highway 61 was improved by upgrading the earlier wagon trail that extended to the Canadian border. Prior to that, most North Shore communities were accessed by boat.

After the road improvement, tourism by motor car to the North Shore boomed and resorts sprang up, such as the spectacular Naniboujou Club, situated at the mouth of the Brule. The lodge was built in 1929 for the exclusive use of its high-profile members, and the Art Deco-Cree inspired motif great hall is postcard worthy. The club was originally envisioned as a much larger enterprise than it is today, with an original lease of 3,330 acres along the Lake Superior shore, and additional acreage at McFarland Lake, 20 miles to the north. Before the club could really get off the ground, the stock market crashed which affected the fortunes of its wealthy membership and the Naniboujou went into a financial crisis and a series of ownership changes.

Devil’s Kettle Falls in Judge C.R. Magney State Park.

| AUGUST SCHWERDFEGER

Fortunately, in 1934, the State of Minnesota purchased 3,000 acres from the club which is the nucleus of the park we see today. The parcel became a Civilian Conservation Corps-style camp, initially managed by the State Forestry Division, and later by the Works Progress Administration as part of a national scheme to provide employment during the Great Depression. Remnants of camp building concrete footings can be found in the balsam thickets on the east side of the river, just downstream of the footbridge. In 1957, the park was formally established by the legislature and an additional 900 acres were purchased. Magney died in 1962 and the park was renamed after him a year later.

Was Magney an outdoorsman and angler? I have found photos of him wading while exploring the upper Devil Track, as part of his quest to preserve its waterfalls. He is pictured carrying a map and is not dressed for fishing. But I also found a 1950s image of him fishing the upper Baptism. He appears to be either dunking a worm or swinging a wet fly with a fly rod where some fast water enters a broad pool. It looks like a likely spot, and I really hope he caught a few brook trout. Every time I cast my fly into the Brule, I thank him for assuring me access to some beautiful fishing places.

Lake Superior silver strike

By Chris Pascone

DULUTH—Does standing in a cold, rushing river, in the pitch dark, sound attractive? How about adding a heavy wooden net with steel mesh that you swing back and forth blindly underwater? This is what thousands of people line up to do nightly for a few weeks each spring in search of the almighty (6-inch long) smelt—Lake Superior’s most sought-after fish. That’s right—this invasive species, not much longer than your finger, brings people in droves from as far away as the Twin Cities and Rochester in a maniacal search for little slivers of silver satisfaction.

So why would anyone want to expose themselves to this suffering? To the cold hands and runny noses, to sleep deprivation and a severe fishing hangover?

BOOM OR BUST

The fact is, smelt are the true boom or bust fish. You can net all night and not get a one, or you can get dozens of these wacky, wonderous silver bullets in a single dip of your net. They are the gambling man’s fish. Go more often, and your chances of hitting the boom increase. Hit it right, and you could have five, 10, even 15 gallons of smelt by morning. Then go make a royal smelt fry for the whole neighborhood.

Smelt enter North Shore rivers to spawn at about the time when river water temps hit 43 degrees F. This is your chance to catch them. The smelt “run” is not an exact science though. Just ask Tim Befera, who’s been smelting the Lester River in Duluth since 1966.

“You just have to start out early in the season. Get out there when the water’s in the low 40s, and just see what the heck they’re doing,” says Befera. “You have to think like a smelt, if you can. That’s the fun thing—they’ve got a little brain the size of a grain of sand, but they can still outsmart us.”

So, with that encouragement in mind, grab your net and give it a shot. But make sure you wait until dark—the smelt don’t run upriver until nighttime falls. Even then, the run can be hot from 11 p.m. to midnight, and then nonexistent a half hour later. Or vice versa.

COMMITMENT

The inexplicable pull of the smelt is strong. Take Kevin Makie—an investment manager from Minneapolis—who drives six hours round-trip from his home to enjoy the rhythmic dipping and dragging of his net in the Lester River. Makie has been netting at Lester for the last 10 years, after first being exposed to smelting by his parents in the 1970s on the Knife River. Makie makes the trip from Minneapolis five or six times a season on average, and sometimes even comes on back-to-back nights when the run is good.

Smelt can be netted all along the North Shore in late April-early May.

| CHRIS PASCONE

“Sometimes the first two times I come up I get skunked, or maybe I get only a dozen or two,” says Makie. “But I like 3 or 4 gallons at least to freeze, and then eat them throughout the year.” So, Makie keeps trying. He’s had some historic nights netting until 3 a.m., then heading home to Minneapolis, and going straight to work. “It’s happened that I’m coming back from smelting, and I get caught in the rush hour traffic going into Minneapolis. Then I get a couple hours of sleep before going to work. It’s not something I try to do too often when I go smelting.”

BEGINNER’S LUCK

Smelting is best done with a buddy, or two. The water is freezing cold in early May, and the heavy flows hurtling down North Shore rivers (especially this year, with 3 feet of snow in the woods still in April), can sweep you out into the lake. Make sure you’re wearing a reliable pair of chest waders. You don’t want to find out mid-river that you’ve sprung a leak. Smelting from shore is difficult to impossible, so be prepared to wade out at least a couple of feet deep.

Befera and his wife Raquel have the following advice for beginners. “Start early enough in the season and establish yourself a little bit. My suggestion is to watch other people first, see where they’re getting them, and then move in either upstream or downstream, so you don’t disrupt them. Start talking to them. Say ‘Hi, I’m new to smelting,’ and pretty soon you’ve got yourself a friend. It takes about two minutes. Be kind. Be humble.”

Then get ready for a thrill. That feeling of euphoria when you can do no wrong. When the smelt seem to be swimming right into your net. It will happen, and you’ll feel on top of the world.

LESTER RIVER: DULUTH’S NETTING MECCA

Smelt can be netted all up and down the North Shore in late April-early May. Smelt can even be caught at the outlet of Chester Creek, right in downtown Duluth. But Befera says the Lester is the North Shore’s premiere netting grounds, thanks to its accessibility and natural beauty.

“To me, the place to be is Lester River,” he says. “You’ve got lights around (from London Road), and you can look down the lake at the Twin Ports all lit up. It’s just a beautiful setting. You can drive to it, and if you get a real active bite, where you’ve got a couple pails of smelt, you can easily carry them back to the car.”

HINTS FROM NATURE

The big question in smelting is timing. Why do smelt run so well one night, and so poorly the next? Is there a way to predict when the optimum time will be? Befera suggests reading nature for clues. “If you can find a little vernal pond close to Lake Superior, where the peepers live, they’re the best sign of all. When you can hear the peepers, get down to the lake with your smelting net.”

Finally, Befera notes that aquatic birds can clue us in to smelt behavior as well. “Often times you can see the fish-eating birds like the grebes and terns staging just offshore from the Lester River mouth. That’s a signal the smelt are getting ready to run.”

The smelt run is short, but sweet. Check out this authentic North Shore fishing culture at a river near you.