Moosebunk

Kind of dreary but beautiful at the same time. lol. Great shots. For granny to have birthed 1200 kids she would have had to have lived to about 400 years old and had quadruplets everytime. VERY IMPRESSIVE SPAWNER, SHE'S DEFINETLY A BETTER BREEDER, MOUNTING... well maybe we shouldn't go there!!! j/k The things East Coasters can do and the lives they live man... weird bunch but I hear they're quite friendly.

Fo shnizzle Lewdizzle. Your rimage is totally granola, man.

Thanks all. Don't carry a gun because I've never had any desire to hunt. 1. I'm not a big fan of game meats, although I'd take a moose tenderloin if marinated a few days. 2. I have my hands full and mind totally occupied with fishing. To me it's a hobby, turned obsession, made outdoor lifestyle, that so far has never stopped offering peace of mind, something new to learn, something new or bigger to catch, some new place to go that'll be outside and maybe on the frontier, and maybe something to share at times with others. Hunting would just make my head explode. 3. I'm a southpaw with a master right eye. Rifles were never comfortable and I couldn't hit a gofer at 10 feet. This was the first encounter with a black bear in camp. This is the second weird encounter with a bear in two months. On one of the last thursdays in April before break-up, I had to work a nightshift in Moosonee. The river was thawing out but skidoo taxis were still taking people to and from the island to the mainland. I went down to get a taxi but no one was working. I waited. And waited. Having to get to work I decided to walk across the river. It was wet, but thick, with only a couple spots of candle ice, sun was still out. It's about 2.5km. Total from home to work 4km. I rounded the bend of an island about half way across and noticed alot of people standing on the shoreline at Moosonee. Totally alone out there it wasn't until I got all the way across (much of the crowd had cleared) that someone told me everyone was out because a polar bear had been sited on the river and they all wanted to see. Guess me being the only one out there on the river as bait, I got lucky and we didn't cross paths. Next bear I see will be a grizzly.

YES MAN. AWESOME!!!. That tent is great. I've looked at them through Cabelas. Maybe in the future. I'm guessing off the 652. Couple big lakes up there could hold monsters like your awesome PB. Congrats.

KARMA IS A BEAR. When it comes to fishing and karma I’m a total believer. No good will come without some sacrifice, and great happiness one day should mean that come the next you’d best be watching for falling anvils. Unless of course you can beat karma with luck, yet so few actually have that in any regularity. Last trip upriver with Bren was all about karma. Elated to have caught a big walleye and some beauty trout in the same outing, I could only expect that cloudy days lay ahead. I was right, as snow, high winds, drizzle, and pure garbage all blew over the north after the long weekend, keeping me housebound during most of my fish vacation from work. One attempt on the water in that time proved to be a pure Gong Show, all I could think was that I had it coming, and man, did I get my butt whipped by the elements and karma that day. It’s the price of great fishing though, no trophy comes without first having to play the game... and games sometimes see ya win, and other times they beat yer punk donkey down. Nearing the end of May six trips on the river had been made; a far cry from the 12 to 14 days I had planned for the month. The 29th came and weather looked to clear up nicely so, I packed up all the camp gear and made a lone escape into the wilderness, eager as ever to find fish. Equipped for anything, the plan was to take no chances. For the last few years trapping minnows in the spring by the hundreds has never been an issue, but this season all that have been caught are fifteen in a dozen days. My pond is blown because of the flood, and just the day before leaving on this trip I was back at the spot to find others have been checking my traps. They also weren’t so kind and chucked one trap into a spot where it got hung up, forcing me to return with chest waders on to retrieve it. Was a peaceful morning having the North French to myself while making the trek up. Where I started at the boat launch is four feet above sea level, and where I was headed to camp was 38km from home and an uphill climb to 56 feet. A few fishing spots at the 57km mark would take me to 65 feet, but that was later in the day. First spot I hit I tried for trout and not quite ready I blew the first fish. Hoping to be given another crack a few casts later and I was struck hard by a fish that gave up quick. No trout, turned out to be a fallfish. I moved on. A few minutes later I stopped off the back of an island and fished the seams and slack water in behind. First cast I felt some ticking, and a couple later had the first eye of the day. Staying there twenty minutes I picked off four walleyes and another fallfish, then in the distance I heard a motor and spotted a boat coming my way. I decided to stay ahead of it and took off, not looking back nor stopping again until I reached camp. Was a speedy set-up before getting back to the river. At the campsite when I was there with Bren on the long weekend I marked the water level. Turns out even with all the snow and rain it had dropped more than a foot. I was finding on the river I needed to be more careful reading the water as many areas were shallow now. Fishing was great and I was getting good numbers of eyes and pike along the way. The pike were really aggressive and just smashing big spoons. Sizes though, not too good, especially the pike. Most walleye were eaters with a couple in the 18 inch range. One spot being shallow I chucked Wholly Buggers with a 6wt floating line to a 5 foot leadcore lead then 5 foot, 6 pound florocarbon tippet, to get the offering to drop and swing along bottom in the current. Chartreuse was good, then yellow... black not so good. The winds switched after awhile and became more gusty so the fly rod went away and the jiggin’ stick came out. I finished one productive spot off with a pink grub before continuing on upriver. Finally around 5:00pm I made it to the eddy where I caught a big eye a couple weeks ago. Quietly I pushed wide around and past the tiny spot, shut the motor off then drifted back into position carefully dropping anchor. First cast I plunked it right into that exact hole and immediately felt a big walleye. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz....... zzzz....... clink. And she came unpegged. I recast, hopeful. Sure enough a couple later... TINK.... zzzzz...zzzzz.........zzzzz and into the current. Right away though it became obvious, I had a pike. Made me wonder then if the first was really an eye. Wasn’t a bad pike, maybe five pounds. Just after catching it, next cast a small grub eating eye came boat side, then after that it was a few more pike and a fallfish. The long journey up to this hole was not quite turning out how I had hoped. I rested the pool a short while and took time for some grub eating of my own. Evening was turning out beautiful. After supper on the retreat back to camp I savoured a cold one and stopped a number of times to wet a line. As the sun began to set pink & white grubs gave change to pumpkin then black Gulp leeches. The shades of the day darkened, the winds died down, and all became so silent. The only sounds heard while fishing the last hole back near camp were distant birds, and my jighead gently ticking rocks below the water. At home on the North French both feet were up over the gunnels in Lazy-Boy fashion, and walleye kept dropping by to say hello. Before long I had to say goodnight and retire. Back at camp I was quick to take notice of this at my landing. Seems while absent I had a visitor. Prints about eight inches left in the mud revealed what I already knew, that the black bear I had seen on the opposing riverbank about 150 meters from my camp had his nose in my business earlier this evening. Poor hungry bugger just awake from his winter nap was probably some upset to realize I had my food in the boat with me. (ALWAYS) Still though, an hour of poor daylight remaining, this black beast left me a little unnerved. I thought about packing up but, riding home through rapids in the dark isn’t an option. I quickly talked myself into staying. These aren’t park bears up here, these guys know local Cree carry guns and usually run skittish of humans. I carry nothing and only pretend to be Cree, but the bear shouldn’t know that, unless it saw my glorious shimmering red beard handed down by my pale faced Scottish descendants. And thinking of my pale face, before hitting the hay I lathered on some hotel room coconut scented skin lotion to treat my sun and wind weathered dermis. In the tent laying still I drifted off with the calls of cranes, geese, toads and an owl naturally singing me to sleep....................................................... sniff sniff ... CRACK!!! I abruptly woke to an eerie dead calm. Sniff, sniff. I heard it again. WHERE THE damn ARE THOSE BIRDS CHIRPING NOW!?!?!? screamed in my head. The bear was right on the corner of my tent. All I could smell was the dang the tropics, and I had a darned awful feeling the big black tourist outside my Cabana was thinking Pina Coladas............... sniff, sniff... and a licking of the chops sound. I shuffled in bed. Probably a shuffle that inched me that much closer to the fetal position and entirely under the covers. The bear outside the tent shuffled his feet and likely wondered if the vinyl dome fortress between him and dinner could be penetrated. What was in all likelihood maybe a minute, lasted an eternity. My heart pounding loud enough the bear could probably feel it’s beating, and if not, in the very least smell my coconut disguised adrenaline. Then I heard him walk on. In fact, I heard him walk on down the way about 50 feet to my boat where he must have clanked my anchor. Now I’m thinking... Hey, I’m on the backside of a little island slightly off the beaten path here, on a shallow and frigid river 40 kilometers from people. Perfect if the bear would set my boat adrift or sink it. And so it was at this point I started to make grunting noises like a bad-ass beast stirring from a slumber. My food was sealed and tucked away tight under the seat of the boat. Unsure if there was much there to smell, he at the very least might have noticed the aromatic scant remains of the couple dozen fish that may have pooped or flopped in the boat and net. Whatever he was looking for he passed up because the sounds of my desperately mean fear were enough to send that bear running scared....... I guess....... OK, well, at the very least, he was moving along yet curious of what could have been cowering under the vinyl dome. I let out a sigh and felt around for my watch and flashlight on the tent floor. Time had stopped. Seriously, my watch had stopped at 11:05:40. The bear gave time a heart attack too, didn’t kill me though, just my Fossil watch. Guess it really is a fossil now, killed dead. Question was, what time was it really? Time is something I’ve spent a fair bit of in the bush. Remember taking walks on full moon nights in the winter, going a few miles into the forest on skidoo trails while I lived on night shifts in Attawapiskat. Used to find those cold nights both peaceful and exhilarating alone with the shadows. Don’t scare easy... but don’t scare too hard either. Had I been that type I probably would have packed up at first sight of the bear and at least moved down river a little. The deep woods can quickly make logical men pretty spiritual some days. This is a reality. As I lay in my tent wide awake thoughts raced back to other times I’ve felt the presence of Boogie men and ghosts that might go bump in the night. Truth is, I would argue with near certainty that I have felt the cold chilling breath of the Windigo on the back of my neck, and once seen a Water Walker float above the rapids, this soul of a trapper and time long past carrying his pelts over his shoulder. But only outside of the hustle and bustle of a concrete jungle would spirits like this ever be given a place and time to exist. I opened the tent door and peered outside to make sure no more Windigos, Chupacabras, Yetis or other demons were lurking about in the dark. A short sleep and I was happy to see the sun. The view from just outside the tent... welcoming. Planned to make quick work of breakfast and get back upriver to my honey hole for some morning walleye action. It was almost just as I had said it, except that breakfast made quick work of me. On route threw the whole bloody mess up and over the gunnel while never releasing the canoe from full throttle. It was a violent 6 or 7 rounds but a predictable loss, as I was quite dehydrated and sleep deprived. Up river the fishing was great again. Picked off a bunch more eater sized fish but never kept a one. Catch and release is my new thing... wonder if they’ve heard of it in the south. (haha) It was so far a great trip and I hadn’t remembered a solo effort on the North French ever coughing up so many fish. Numbers were probably 2 to 1 walleye over pike and totaling forty plus fish. On one cast I got nailed by a hard bite and the fish gave the first good bit of reel peel on the trip. Probably the hardest fighter of all. I was getting pretty excited to see this big walleye when I saw the grey back flash at the surface. Ahhhh he!!, fallfish..? Darned big fallfish though... as far as minnows go. Gave it an hour or so then drove back to camp and began packing up. Inspecting the site I found a path Brenda had once pointed out to me in the past. Thought about the bear and how it likely came in that way, right up behind my tent all in stealth ninja mode until it sniffed and cracked that stick. Took some time for an early lunch which I managed to not purge, and drifted out back of the island to take some casts for pike in the slack waters there. Just a ways around the corner I got a birdsnest in the Abu. The boat got blown ashore and it was here I noticed a path. Closer inspection revealed foot steps which came from out of the water upon the shore.

Was all good, but the BBQ was the best. TbayBoy. lol

Caught this earlier. Great report. Nice to spend quality time with your girl, even better in a great area like Temagami.

Just fantastic my good man. Some of those northerns have the most awesome spotting... bar-like. Great read and pics. Gets the juices flowing to take a fly-in too.

I can probably think of 3 people I'm likely better off never knowing.

I do raf. Strictly braids now. Understand though, most times the walleye here bite quite hard (when biting) and are being caught in 1 to 8 FOW below the ice. About two feet 90% of the time actually. I can't remember fishing deeper than about 8 feet more than once. The ice thickness can be 4 feet and when the fish run they're scraping my line in those depths across the bottom of the hole at up to 90 degrees. When I used mono first getting into ice fishing, I lost a couple bigger fish when the line snapped likely from that friction alone. With these dirty waters I decided no more chances as the fish aren't line shy anyway. More than 50% of our pike are caught on walleye outfits, and 20% of those fish caught over 40 inches have been on walleye gear and small baits. I've used Spiderwire, Stren and PowerPro and don't find the ice build up on the line much worse than mono, and on the reel because I'm using so little line fishing such shallow water it doesn't build up much there either.

Great shots Mepps.

A south facing, well defined river eddy with a mix of rock and clay and maybe a little pencil weed or cabbage growing shoreline. Either or both pike or eyes will be waiting. Or, a runoff or creek into either the main river or a calm back bay.. in the spring.

For Pike. 50lb Power Pro on the baitcaster. 20-30lb Power Pro on the spinning outfit. Both 30-45lb 9" black coated steel leaders. Fly Fishing. 9wt floating 555 series pike/bass tapered line. 14lb, 6ft mono leads and 8" 30lb steel tippet. Ice Fishing. Anything at all braided, but heavier stuff specific for pike 30-50lb Spiderwire, Stren or whatever old braid is kicking around. For Eyes. 6-8lb XT or Maxima, OR, 10-20lb Power Pro on spinning gear. Icefishing 10-20lb braids. For Searuns. 8lb XT or Maxima.

Raised a Habs fan, still a Habs fan, but Sens and Flames fan too. Played hockey from 4 ti'll 17. Was a smaller player on the team when in Tyke and Atom but a good and fast centerman or right winger. Growing up Mats Naslund was the Habs player I idolized for his speed and play making ability. Great assists player. Could say my dad's favorite during that era too, Larry Robinson was a favorite of mine as well. My bro was a Patty Roy fan all the way. If I had to pick a couple favorites to watch today, Jerome Iginla, Alfreddson and Heatley.

Great shot CamJ. Friends of mine were up in Zec Dumoine last week at an old stomping ground of ours. Love the specks and the area in general.

Slowly troll a medium to small Johnson weedless spoon tipped with a 3 inch plastic grub right through those weeds. Same could be done with a 3 way rig, minnow hooked onto a weedguarded hook, and just go super slow.

Cot for tent..... sounds peaceful and comfortable.

Specks always bring a smile.

Ooops typo above... I mean "carp."

Hey that's a load of crap!!!

May Long weekends are sooo over-rated. Why??? Because of the bull weather every year. lol. Nice haul of trout. Looks just like a spot I know on the south end of Temagami.

Thanks again all. Glad yas enjoyed that one. It was a few trips in the making and didn't go to press until it found the perfect ending. Two communities totalling 5000 people share these waterways. Nearly EVERYONE here fishes in some capacity it seems, unlike southern communities, and of those people that fish here almost all fish are kept as the limits are limitless for 90% of the people. Add no closed seasons, gill nets, nightlines and even spearing to a small degree, and there's a pile more pressure on the resource. Then, you have to factor in brackish tidal waters that are 90% of the time useless for catching fish in, so, everyone fishing goes up the river and pounds every productive hole with nets and lines just above where the tidemark ends. So then, you have to travel beyond the tidemark and further beyond the beaten holes and crowds to get to the first few spots that are half decent SOME of the time. No roads to drive on to launch your boat up river, treacherously low water levels half of the open water season... it's always work, and except for the dog days of summer and two short spring and fall windows when the fish come to the lower end of the river nearer to the communities, it's always a full day on the water that's needed if one seriously wants great numbers, unpressured fish, or the increased odds of a biggun. Getting rewarded for the effort is always more gratifying anyways. Some places around here can be special at the right times and 100 fish days happen. But all of them require planning and travel.

Top to bottom, start to finish, PERFECT. RAMMING BEAVER... too much fun. Just as I come to expect from a Solo report.

That was good Photoz. No blackflies out yet. Should be a couple more weeks. They aren't all that bad on the river, in the breeze. Would never set foot in the bush though. It's good times up here fishing. I agree, heaven somedays for sure.

Had a pic of one somewhere. That is, the one's with the blue slime. Like Dan says, they are not that rare. The slime is caused I believe by a protein... or maybe it was a healthy, natural bacteria. Read it in OOD. Now, blue walleye... several years back my friend John did take a super blue walleye off the Cheepas River. Every other fish that weekend was gold, there was no reason for this one to glow blue. Extinct... ??? Did not the latest OOD or ODC have an article contrary to that? Cougars... now aren't they supposed to be extinct around here too?