Algonquin Trout Opener ~ Pic's And Video

[solopaddler]

In fishing, especially brook trout fishing, there are never any guarantees and from time to time I've been known to follow a hunch.

 

An offhand remark by the kid pumping my gas, a chance conversation with a fellow tripper, or simply staring at a map for hours and deciding that a certain lake needed to be fished for no particular reason.

 

Regardless of the inspiration oftentimes chasing trout takes a giant leap of faith. Sometimes it pays off, many times it doesn't.

 

My tripping partner Fidel was blissfully ignorant of my lake choosing criteria, relying solely on my perceived experience to lead us to fish.

 

Of course I said nothing to temper the lads enthusiasm. 15 years my junior and full of the boundless energy of a youthful sherpa, I had to keep his spirits up.

 

I had decided upon a particularly remote lake with over 5km of portaging required to access it. You do know what they say right? The quality of the fishing rises in direct proportion to the difficulty required to access it. Well...usually it does.

 

Anyhow I'd heard rumours that the trail was in good shape and decided to try and utilize my canoe cart for as long as we could.

 

It's always easier pulling canoe and gear in on a cart rather than carrying...usually.

 

We were well into our 4th hour of hauling when the kid began to falter, "Are you sure we're headed the right way?", "I'm not sure how much longer I can take this!"

 

The countless deadfalls, muddy bog holes and seemingly endless uphill climbs weren't helping matters.

 

"Don't worry, one way or another we'll make it, trust me!" I said this in between gigantic gulps of air and with sweat streaming down my brow.

 

I have to admit I was starting to get slightly worried. By my reckoning we should have been at the lake over an hour ago. Somewhere I was certain we had taken a wrong turn.

 

This particular part of the Park you see is interlaced with a network of old logging roads, park roads, and portage trails, many times overlapping.

 

I was reasonably certain that about an hour previously we should have zigged instead of zagged and now here we were: early evening with the sun sinking low in the horizon and the temperature dropping fast.

 

I made an executive decision at that point to ditch the cart and carry our stuff in on a rough trail that headed west.

 

With our strength waning faster than the weak spring sunshine we were overwhelmingly relieved to stumble upon the east shoreline of the lake 15 minutes later.

 

Tired or not we hustled to launch the canoe and load our gear. Our sole priorities now being find a campsite, light a fire and cook some food.

 

It's hard to describe exactly what transpired next. Suffice it to say we were dealt a crushing blow.

 

As I prepared to slide the canoe into the lake we both gasped in horror.

 

Apparantly the carts wheels had been rubbing on the underside of the canoe, enough that they'd worn two perfect tire shaped holes into the underside of the canoe.

 

Now normally this could be overcome quite easily with duct tape which I always have on hand.

 

Unfortunately I failed to pack any this time.

 

"What do we do now?" The kid grouched. His spirits were finally being crushed...

 

I was truly at a loss for a moment then realized that in all probability there was another group already camped on the lake. According to the Park reservation line another party was slated to be camped on the lake at the same time.

 

Fidel stayed behind, as in his words "There's no need for both of us to drown!".

 

Meanwhile I jammed a lifejacket as best as I could into the holes, and with a knee pressing down on each of them I paddled off alone in search of help.

 

The wind was brisk from the north as I skated across the lake and around a mainlake point. I was taking on a bit of water, but not enough to stop me yet.

 

I picked up the pace instantly relearning long lost skills as I leaned into the side of the boat and pulled my paddle blade deeper and faster.

 

In a protected cove exactly where I expected them to be I saw the smoke from a campfire and a large group of guys milling around.

 

Turns out they were a truly fantastic group of individuals and were more than happy to help.

 

They pulled my lame canoe up onto shore, helped me out and after a minute of explaining on my part they went to work.

 

One of the guys handed me a stiff drink and I watched while another opened a pack and pulled out several rolls of tape. He could have opened a duct tape store.

 

Within minutes they'd dried the boat inside and out and applied two different layers of tape to both sides.

 

Yes indeed, I do believe that sometimes a higher power watches over us.

 

 

 

Before leaving to collect Fidel and our gear I snapped this quick pic of our new friends. What a great bunch of guys and truly kindred spirits!

 

 

 

I thanked them profusely before departing. If not for them I really have no idea what we'd have done.

 

To say Fidel was happy is a bit of an understatement. Deliriously flabbergasted might be more apt.

 

We wasted no time loading the boat and in short order we found an open campsite, pulled in and set up shop.

 

 

 

In no time at all we had a roaring blaze going, dinner on the stove, and a couple of drinks poured.

 

The winds died down and we enjoyed a truly spectacular, albeit short, Algonquin evening.

 

 

 

 

When the sun finally sank below the horizon it quickly became unbearably cold. With the temperature slated to dip to minus 11 it was a good thing we'd stoked the furnace with a big meal.

 

Regardless I think we'd have both slept soundly curled up under a bush. We were whipped.

 

The next morning after some seriously strong java and a bit of food we were eager to fish. It was after all opening day.

 

As a young lad of 9 or 10 opening day held more magic for me than Christmas morning. I'd spend the months leading up to it daydreaming of what was to come.

 

Of course back then we didn't fish for trout before the opener. These days with extended seasons, plenty of year round opportunities, and the means to fish them the opener has lost a bit of its luster.

 

Still the excitement is still there, the flames just need to be fanned now and again.

 

It was opening day and we were on a wild brook trout lake deep in the interior of Algonquin Park. That was enough for me.

 

We quickly pushed off and began to work the lake. Despite the minus temps the sun was shining brightly and our spirits were soaring.

 

It was a beauty of a lake too, typically tannin stained, rocky, and ringed with countless fallen trees, usually a surefire hotspot for spring brookies.

 

Fidel was the first to connect. Dangling a small plastic shad bait next to an enormous fallen cedar at the end of a long cast, a chunky trout shot out from underneath and hammered his lure right beside the boat.

 

 

 

 

I struck next with another healthy specimen that hit a #2 perch colored E.G.B. spoon as I fluttered it past a giant boulder.

 

 

From that point on it was fairly consistent with a total of 12 gorgeous chunky brookies coming to the net.

 

Fidel led the way with 7 all on his favourite plastic bait.

 

 

 

Picture taking wasn't a huge priority for us on this day, in fact I don't think Fidel snapped a single one so we have mostly memories of this truly great opener.

 

Considering all the strife we endured getting in the previous day we were more than satisfied when we headed in early evening to stoke the fire and fry up a couple of trout.

 

 

I put the blade to two of the chunkier specimens and was simply awed by the flesh: bright orange and firm, I believe we could have eaten it raw.

 

 

Dusted in flour then sauteed in butter with some fresh dill and a bit of lemon pepper, it truly doesn't get any better!

 

 

While I puttered around the stove cooking our dinner and stoking the fire Fidel, keener that he is refused to give up.

 

He rigged his rod with a float, split shot, hook and worm and lobbed it out.

 

"Buddy, you're wasting your time!" I yelled over from the fire, "It's way too shallow out in front of our camp!"

 

Thankfully the lad ignored me and proceeded to land 6 healthy fish before dinner was ready.

 

Here's the first for posterities sake.

 

 

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Hfkunc_ODzM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

 

 

 

 

I was incredibly happy for him considering what I'd put him through, and I have to say his excitement is infectious!

 

I enjoyed the show from my perch near the fire, drink in hand, and honestly couldn't imagine a more perfect end to the day.

 

The next morning we caught a couple more fish, fittingly one each, before we packed up and headed out.

 

Thankfully everything from that point on was anticlimactic. We found the actual portage trail and carried rather than carted our way out.

 

Fidel had the heavy pack with the cart bungeed on top and I carried the lighter pack and canoe.

 

We made incredible time as well I thought, traversing the entire 5 plus kilometer length in 11/2 hours.

 

It's nice to know I still have it in me.

 

Big thanks goes out to Fidel (Highdrifter on the board). Sir you are an outstanding young man and a true pleasure to trip with.

 

It's not often I run across someone like Fidel with the same sensibilities as mine. You're a good man and a real trooper, 'till next time buddy.

 

 

Cheers, Mike

Edited May 5, 2012 by solopaddler

[danbouck]

Awesome

[woodenboater]

What an awesome TR ! I don't think there's any opener like a spring opener in The Park. 5 km of carrying hell really does get you closer to nirvana doesn't it ?

 

I was waiting for a punchline to your story and was bowled over when I saw the photos of the wheel worn canoe lol ! Thank god you found the other group or else you and Fidel woulda been looking for pitch and ripping up clothes

 

And yeah, those are some absolutely gorgeous brookies you landed. I like the way you do your trout, some flour, butter and some heat. Way better than trad shore lunches imo.

[Gregoire]

Great report as usual. Thanks for posting.

[SirCranksalot]

Man, I'm speechless!!. What trout, what a well written report---can feel the drama! Flesh it out a bit and submit to a magazine

[Nipfisher]

Great report Mike and Fidel and BEAUTY Brookies.

[mike rousseau]

im not even a fan of trout fishing and that report makes me wanna go...

 

 

thanks for the great report mike...

[mirogak]

What a nice read ... like a novel. Thanks Mike. As I was reading about them fallen trees in your report I remembered the fallen trees on my lake and the splashes around them. Nostalgia already? Can't be.

 

And I bet you could have eaten those fish raw. And that frying pan pic of yours was truly torturous.

 

Thanks and keep it up.

Miro

[Walleye'm Fishing]

Fantastic report, gorgeous brookies!!!

[Christopheraaron]

Mmmmm, that looked good, actually looked tastier raw! Can't beat the kindness of folks up in Algonquin, I remember once we packed up for a last second trip, we managed to call ahead and they said that they had lots of space, wouldn't you know it it was almost completely booked up! While looking around the lake a large group called us over, said that they claimed 2 sites and that if we needed one to come over!

[laszlo]

Well done gentleman!

[steel&chrome]

WOW, those brookies are beauts!!! What an adventure!, thanks for sharing!

[mercman]

A true adventure Mike. Not many of us can say we have had one. You truly live a blessed life.

Thanks for sharing part of it with me.

 

 

Paul

[solopaddler]

Glad you enjoyed fellas, and Mike, anytime you feel up to it let me know.

[Peps]

Fantastic read Mike

[spinnerdoc]

I really enjoyed reading this report Mike... like the gentleman above had said...it's like reading a novel, you could be Hemmingway

[Hooked]

Tough break on the canoe in the beginning, glad some good karma worked out for ya's. Definitely a trip for troopers and purist considering the actual time spent and work to get to your site. Hardcore stuff. Sometimes it's great to be proven wrong....sometimes.

I was lucky enough to of met Fidel at Lakair once, a good guy indeed.

Edited May 3, 2012 by Hooked

[torco]

Great report. I am always impressed by yours (and others on the board) ability to tell a good story.

[rocheleauc]

wow that was great, thanks for sharing that with us, looks like it was a great time

[Moosebunk]

A pleasure this one is Mike.

 

The essence of what fishing boards should be about.

 

And yes, I am impressed and not surprised that you "still have it in you."

[Rod Caster]

I can relate to your canoe mishap.

 

My Dad and I once had to mend a punctured Chestnut Prospector with kerosene-can-wrapped duct tape, sandwich bags and bubble gum. It was an uncomfortable situation at the time, but we were ultimately rewarded with humility and a good story. The spec fishing was great as well!

 

Just another chapter in your book of adventures, eh? I guess a re-think is needed for your canoe-cart; you're not likely to smell melting canoe when your pulling it thanks for sharing.

Edited May 3, 2012 by Rod Caster

[Moosebunk]

Ohhh and to add.

 

Fidel... way to slay the shore and boat fish dood! That last pic and fish is a beauty man.

[kickingfrog]

Great tale. Beautiful fish. Mr. Brice would have had a chuckle, and maybe a shake of the head, about that trip.

[asdve23rveavwa]

I've been waiting for this one. Thanks for a great bed time read. Truly beautiful brookies and quite the adventure to boot.

[Sinker]

Great report! There is nothing better than spring specks!!

 

S.