That “mudhole” was the Tittabawassee River, which flows through Midland, Mich., where I spent my teenage years. In recent decades, the river had been cleaned up and the carp replaced by small-mouth bass and Northern pike. I’ve tried to go back every summer to spend a day enjoying this sport fishery with a local artist friend. We would put his ancient (and heavy) Grumman-made aluminum canoe into the river immediately below a dam in the village of Sanford, and float downstream to Midland. Read Full Article »