Mention float trips in Michigan and most anglers think automatically of driftboats for steelhead or Au Sable riverboats for brown and brook trout. If they think of bass at all, it is of smallmouths on classic rivers, of drifting in a johnboat and casting jigs and Rapalas for bronzebacks that weigh two or three pounds.

That is how I always thought of it myself. Even after canoeing hundreds of miles on many of the state's finest rivers, it was difficult to get out of that habit.

The Cass River in Tuscola County finally destroyed my preconceptions. On an early morning in May, on a section of the Cass below the town of Tuscola, Craig Date and I floated the river in a canoe and found smallmouths in a fighting mood. It became almost easy: Cast small jigs fitted with chartreuse twister tails in the eddies behind the larger rocks and you could depend on sharp, rapping strikes.

The bass weren't large -- one to two pounds, mostly -- but they came up shaking the lures, then dove for the deeper holes or planed away downstream in the main current. On light tackle it was fun, and once or twice we moved fish that seemed considerably larger than the majority of the fish. We figured it was just a matter of time before we tied into something big.

I admit to a short attention span. The fishing was so good it became predictable. And once it was predictable, I became restless. I switched to a floating Rapala and began looking for different habitat. To the side of the river, away from the main current, a pocket of still water reached back into a tiny slough lined with fallen trees and lily pads. The entire spot was no bigger than a garage floor, and the water was stagnant and definitely not the kind of place you would expect to find smallmouths.

Still, it looked intriguing. There seemed to be depth and cover, and I reasoned that it might be a desirable retirement home for a lazy old granddaddy of a bronzeback. I flicked a cast into it. The lure rested, I twitched it once, and the entire slough seemed to erupt. It caught me off guard. I tried to set the hook, but the drift of the canoe had put slack in the line. A bass came up flaring its gills: a largemouth of four, maybe five pounds. It wallowed briefly, sending waves to both sides of the slough, then threw the hook.

We hadn't even known there were largemouths in the river.

I'll be the first to admit that canoes make poor fishing boats. Most anglers prefer a wider, flatter, more stable casting platform, one that allows you to stand and move around to ease cramped muscles. In a wind, a canoe can be more frustrating than it's worth; in high waves it can be absolutely nerve-wracking.

Yet there are times when canoes are unexcelled for approaching shallow-water bass in Michigan rivers, and for exploring places that are virtually inaccessible in any other craft. The lightness and maneuverability of canoes, and their portability, make them in some circumstances the most logical of fishing boats

That largemouth in the Cass River probably could not have been approached any other way. The shoreline around the slough was too boggy to be waded, and no powerboat could have negotiated the shallow, rocky mainstream to get within casting distance. I lost the bass, but I'm convinced it's a battle I never would have had without a canoe.

Although a canoe may never be well suited for fishing open water in strong winds, there are tricks that can make life a lot easier during most situations. In a tandem canoe on slow, wide rivers, it's no trick to simply drift and cast. But on smaller, faster rivers, where tight bends and sweepers can be a hazard, it makes sense to alternate fishing.

My partners and I switch seats periodically, the stern man acting as guide, the bow man casting. The stern paddler can hold position in the current by using back-strokes or sculling strokes, by anchoring to the bottom with his paddle or a pole, by positioning the canoe near the bank and gripping branches or other handholds, or by playing out a light anchor of chain links.

An anchor works well in slow to moderate current, but keep in mind that in strong current it can be dangerous: the canoe tends to flare sideways and if the anchor hangs up on bottom there is a chance of capsizing. Likewise, grabbing branches is a good way to get wet unless you're in complete control of the boat. If a stretch of river is irresistible, the best--and safest--tactic is to simply beach the canoe and fish from shore.

Solo canoeists can have a difficult time fishing in rivers. The problem is that tandem canoes are designed for equal displacement of weight, so that a solitary paddler in the stern seat throws the bow into the air and loses whatever maneuverability the boat possesses. One solution is to weight the bow with a couple cement blocks. Or, try sitting backwards in the bowseat and paddling stern first.

A better solution is to fish from a solo canoe, a boat designed for solitary paddling. The idea is old, but only in the past 10 years have solo canoes become popular enough to be widely available. Any number of boats are available, from trim and quick-footed to relatively sluggish but more stable designs. You'll want to talk with knowledgeable sales people who can assess your needs.

What about safety? Are canoes really as "tippy" as most people think? Safety in a canoe--as in any boat--is largely a matter of common sense. You don't have to be a whitewater expert to handle a canoe in most water conditions, but neither should you attempt a fast, frequently obstructed river if you're an absolute beginner.

The chances are, if you've spent more than a few hours in a canoe, you can handle most of Michigan's bass rivers. It helps to learn a few simple techniques like draw-strokes and back-strokes. Look them up in any of the many good books on canoeing techniques. There's nothing mysterious about them--they're just commonsense ways to move a canoe around.

In any kind of canoe, simply using good sense is enough to keep you safe and dry. The major concerns are the same for any boat: wear a personal floatation device (Coast Guard Approved Type III); don't wear waders in the boat; pay attention to where you're going and what kind of obstructions are ahead; be familiar with the river before setting out on an ambitious trip.

While canoeing is a great way to get to seldom-fished water on Michigan's best trout streams, it might be best suited to the bass rivers of the state. Partly that's because bass tend to inhabit the larger, slower rivers where canoeing ability isn't as crucial, partly it's because bass are found in far more rivers.

Below is a run-down of five outstanding bass rivers. Each offers a mixed bag of largemouths and smallmouths, with occasional pike, walleye, trout, and catfish thrown in.

Also, and just as important, each is a unique and fascinating float-trip destination. They're especially well suited for early season, when water levels are sufficient for good canoeing, when fine weather and actively feeding fish make it the best time of year to be on a river, in a canoe, with a fishing rod in hand.

The Huron River

One of Michigan's finest bass rivers happens to be in the backyard of the state's major population center. The Huron supports excellent numbers of smallmouths and largemouths most of its length, beginning at Proud Lake north of Ann Arbor. Generally, the mainstream, with its steady current and rocky bottom, holds smallmouths, while the bays, sloughs and impoundments are largemouth territory. Keep in mind that Kent Lake, the large Oakland County reservoir, is open for a special no-kill, catch-and-release bass season from April first to the regular opener.

Some of the best early season bass fishing can be found in the channels between Strawberry and Baseline lakes. Spawning fish in those small, shallow lakes often migrate into the channels to feed before and after the spawn.

Kalamazoo River

Much of the upper Kalamazoo is classic smallmouth water: steady current over rock and gravel bottom, with deep pools and fallen trees for cover. The ponds at Ceresco and Albion give up good numbers of largemouths as well.

Some of the best fishing in the river--at least for big bass--is in the Allegan State Game Area. The river there is slow and deep, and meanders through a major bayou. Access to the area is limited to the dam at Lake Allegan, at the upper end of the State Game Area, and at the bridge in New Richmond at the lower end.

The problem is that the trip is about eight miles long--too far to make comfortably in one day, if you plan to fish much. An alternative is to put in at the access site in New Richmond and paddle a few miles upstream (the current won't give you much trouble) then drift back to New Richmond. The pay-off? Largemouths as big as seven pounds are taken from the Kalamazoo in the Allegan State Game Area, with occasional smallmouths, northern pike, walleye, and channel and flathead catfish mixed in for variety.

Cass River

Like a lot of Michigan rivers, the Cass has earned its reputation for smallmouth bass. One local told me that he knows a section of the river that has given up over a hundred caught-and-released bass in a day's float--and most of those over two pounds in weight. Even in the upper reaches near Cass City, where the river is small and winds through jewel-bright beds of weeds, smallmouths to five pounds are occasionally taken, especially in early season when they've migrated upstream to spawn.

Largemouths, on the other hand, are something of a local secret. They're found in the deeper, slower water the entire length of the river, but especially in the lower reaches, below Frankenmuth, near the confluence with the Shiawassee and Saginaw rivers. Six and seven pounders are taken with fair regularity. The deeply discolored water tends to favor live bait, though topwater lures can be deadly at times.

The Muskegon

The longest of Michigan's rivers, the Muskegon supports good bass populations nearly its entire 170 miles from the Reedsburg Dam at the Deadstream Flooding, to the mouth at Muskegon at Lake Michigan. Most of the impoundments and the drowned river mouth at Muskegon Lake offer fair to good largemouth fishing, but big water and wind and waves make canoe fishing uncertain.

The river itself is a better possibility. In the upper reaches, the pools downstream from Reedsburg Dam regularly give up decent-sized largemouths and smallmouths (plus pike and catfish), though that stretch makes for slow progress in a canoe because of fallen trees. Easier fishing is found below the Leota Bridge and in the vicinity of M-61, where smallmouths are found where you'd expect them--in the mainstream, around rocks and other obstructions--and the largemouths hang out in the side channels, bays and sloughs.

For classic smallmouth territory, try putting in at the municipal park in Evert and floating to Hersey or Paris. For a shot at really big bass, try the deep pools between Newaygo and Muskegon Lake. Those same pools harbor good numbers of walleyes in spring and fall, as well as steelhead and salmon, but the year-round residents are largemouths and smallmouths.

The Au Sable

Michigan's premier trout stream might seem a strange place to go prospecting for bass, and it should. Much of the river is brook trout and brown trout territory good enough to attract fly fishing purists from all over the world. The lower end, from Foote Dam to the mouth at Lake Huron, is one of Michigan's finest steelhead rivers and is equally famous. It's the water in-between that usually gets overlooked.

A few years ago, in early May, I floated the entire mainstream of the Au Sable from Grayling to Oscoda, camping along the way. Like everyone else, I had my heart set on trout. It wasn't until I portaged Loud Dam and was drifting through the channels downstream that I learned of other possibilities. In a spot where the undulating weeds made a kind of pocket around a bed of gravel and sand--the kind of place you would expect to see a brown trout--I found myself looking at a deep-bellied largemouth bass that weighed perhaps six pounds. I didn't get that one, but switching to deerhair poppers on my fly rod, I caught a number of two- and three-pound largemouths.

That same Iosco County section of the Au Sable has given up largemouths over seven pounds and smallmouths to six pounds. It might just be the most overlooked quality bass river in the state.