Not much of a story here.
My best friend since Public School (Grade School) called and asked if I wanted to head up to his cottage on The Trent near Campbellford for a few days this week. He has never been a fishing addict, but he has always been my enabler. He would drive the boat any time I wanted to fish.
This time I took the kayak up and while I was out fishing, he was content to putter around and drink beer. We both did what we wanted to do.
We arrived separately around noon and started with Local Hot sausages and buns on the BBQ and several cool beers to wash down the road dust.
I put the kayak in the water , loaded the gear and drifted out to the other side on the river to cast into the shaded areas under the trees. Almost as soon as the fly hit the water there was a splash and it was on. More misses than hits but lots of top water action.
I caught and released a couple and remembered the camera was in the truck still so I thought I better paddle over and get it in case I tied into a big one.
Besides, it was an opportunity to grab another cold one.
Top action stopped so I switched gears to weighted flies and the action continued till dinner.
Got a few off the dock after BBQed Steaks and shrimp dinner and retreated from the mosquitoes to the screened porch for after dinner drinks. Talked about Old Times and listened to old tunes till after Midnight and I hit the sack.
6:00 in the morning and the river was quiet and still.
They had not opened the Lock system yet so there was little or no current to be seen.
Pushing off into the mist in the kayak was a treat shared only by a pair of squawking Blue Herons . The morning was slightly chilly but I was surprised by the warmth I felt of the fist fish I caught as I dipped my hand over the side of the kayak to pick him up. Back to the cottage for Coffee and a muffin and the rest of the day was spent floating around and catching fish.
Small Mouths pound for pound I think are one of the hardest fighting freshwater fish. Even the smaller fish would bend the rod down and almost under the kayak at times. I lost count of how many fish I lost by them diving down into the heavy weeds and snapping off or hanging me up so all I reeled in was a handful of ?salad?. I don?t know how many I caught, I only took pictures of the ones that were spectacular fighters and reviewing the photos they don?t look nearly as big and tough as I remembered.
I paddled down the river a ways and around a small island but nowhere was the bite as good as right across the river from the cottage?..huh. Next time up there, I am headed around the big island for what they call Musky Bay, taking the 8wt, some ?Tuff Line? (a pliable wire leader material) and some ugly musky/pike flies that I will try to heave at those toothy bastages I know are lying there.
I can say I can?t remember another day when every cast was at least a bump, a hit and miss or a fish.
A Good old friend, great food, copious amounts of Adult Beverages and enough fish to make the tendonitis flare up again.
It?s not Heaven????but I think you could see it from there.