Muskoka Outdoors Network

Within moments he had tied on a small brown nymph, waded effortlessly into knee deep water and hooked into an an acrobatic, speckled trout. After he released the ‘chromed-out’ trout, he looked my way upstream and pointed to the dark pool I should land my fly into. I took a hesitant step into the cold stream as he continued downstream like a modern day fishing Moses.

The fast moving water seemed to retreat around him with every step. It was at that moment I knew that I had entered the water with a real Streamwalker.

When the fly, I tried to cast into the chosen pool, got hung-up in the branches on shore behind me – I knew my journey to becoming a Streamwalker was just beginning.

While untangling my fly line from the offending bush,  my eyes tried to ‘take-in’ where I was. I had never fly fished in an area like this before. It was like the pages of my favorite  fishing magazine had come to life and I was wading in a western Canada whitewater river. I was only 40 minutes from home and wading in a virtual trout paradise – somewhere on the Big East River. It was the kind of place only a Streamwalker would know about.

When I was ready to try a second cast, I noticed that the Streamwalker was already releasing a second trout. Amazed, excited and almost discouraged the words of another master came to mind,

“Do or do not. There is no try…”

I started my backcast and methodically started working the deep pool with a small Adams. Slowly, I began to work my way towards the angling master. It took me awhile to notice at the beginning, but I am pretty sure he would watch and anticipate my route down the noisy river. He would leave some pools and underwater ledges untouched by his fly. He at least hoped that the trailing rookie moving, clumsily, toward him might be able to tempt a wary trout.

That was the only mistake I saw him make. I could not catch anything but suspended branches behind me and hidden rocks in the babbling stream.

Halfway through our journey down this section of the Big East River, we both stopped and rested on rocky boulders. He asked me what I was using and hesitantly I showed him the tattered fly barely clinging to the hook.

“That’s no good,” he said. “Use one of these.”

I think he slowed time as he reached for my fly rod with its shortened tippet. The route downstream had been hard on it.

Before I could protest with any kind of significant resistance, he placed the reel back into my hands with a new marbly, green-beaded nymph and fresh section of fly tippet. This time our adventure continued with the Streamwalker showing me how to read the water for ambush points, rocky ledges, and depth changes. He reminded me to start my casting close and finish towards a 12′oclock position when I approached a new section of stream.

“The least amount of times your fly hits the water before you let it drift increases your chance for a strike,”, he instructed while I struggled to get my nymph to reach a suspended tree trunk on the far side. My friend made his way upstream to me and kindly gave me a lesson in false casting. My casting distance improved slightly after that but it became quickly apparent to me that I may not ever become a Streamwalker.

With a looming sunset on the horizon, we decided to make our way back to our vehicle. The walk back upstream was silent and tiring. The problem with fishing in a spot chosen by a Streamwalker – is the walk back. I found myself wanting to make one last cast back into the pools we had fished hours earlier. It did not help that I had not hooked any trout. Despite this fact, the experience of fishing in such an incredible and seemingly remote area made this trip very memorable.

Later that evening, I tried to explain to my father where I had just been fishing. It seemed my description of area landmarks triggered some old and almost forgotten memories in his mind. He shared some stories of, some 50 years past, how he had spent time on that very section of the river with his father. He then proudly announced that his dad had once caught some nice speckled trout in the very pool my adventure today started in.

It would seem that my grandfather was once a Streamwalker…

Bill Vanderford directed me to a great brown trout fishing video on the Chattahoochee River. Almost made me wish I lived there.

I have this theory about spring lake trout.  The more extreme the weather, the more extreme the bite. Check out these great lake trout photos from angling friend Jeff (with Tom). They braved some nasty snowy weather in a canoe in their quest for spring trout. It paid off!

Strategically, these guys did not tell me where they caught these fish. However, judging by some of the landmarks along the shore and lake access, I would say a local Huntsville lake...

Get some pictures of your own spring trout and I would be happy to post them. I am getting information suggesting that the smelt are running and they attract big trout. Find where a smelt creek empties into your favourite lake - and hold on to your fishing rod.

With an open-water, spring trout fishing season looming, I am always looking for an edge on spring trout. I came across an informative article from Trout U entitled, Early Season Trout With Streamers".

Packed with some great tips to streamer fish, the article lists these patterns as great starting points: Black Marabou Sculpin, Brown Sculpin, and White Belly Sculpin.

You have to read the article to learn how to use them! Thanks Trout U.

Do not rule out the effectiveness of crank and minnow baits for spring trout.

The mention of spring trout fishing casts up visions of dry flies, silver spoons and small spinners as the standard attractors of choice.  For some reason, using anything else did not seem worthy of mention until a blog visitor and Alberta fishing guide, Mike Robertson shared details about his recent haul of 'chromed-out' rainbow trout from the Bow River in Alberta.

Mike was able to access a favourite section of the Bow River during a warming western chinook wind.  Instead of using standard issue flies, spoons or spinners he used Rapala Countdowns. The river's 'silvery rainbows' inhaled them. The Bow River blogger explains his technique like this,

"The method is a little different in the early spring. I cast out and make the Rapalas dive right down to the bottom. Then, I lift the rod tip up to make the lure swim quickly and erracticly. Then, I leave the lure on a long pause letting it drift down the river without reeling. I then, repeat this process two more times and slowly retrieve the Rapala back into shore."

A successful angler will always be flexible enough to adapt their technique to the conditions that surround the fish they are targeting. Mike's photos below prove that the newest additions to my usual trout candy showcase will now include some diving cranks. It seems brown trout go 'strike-crazy' for Mike's spring offerings as well.

The local application for these countdowns is simple. Depending on when the retreating snow opens up some river shorelines, you may be able to cast these lures into local rivers like, the Muskoka, the Big East and the Little East. Local anglers have confirmed to me that the Muskoka River has instances of rainbows but, more than likely, you could hook into some speckled trout in these three rivers. Portions of the Muskoka River closer to Bracebridge have also been stocked with brown trout.

Mayflower Lake in Arrowhead Provincial Park also has stocked rainbow trout.

*Mike Robertson is a Blogger and Fishing Guide at the Bow River Blog. All photos used with permission.

With an early retreat of winter, it leaves the angler some extended opportunities to find some cold water trout. In this multi-part post, I want to share some trout fishing locations that are relatively close to Huntsville. A successful trout fishing trip may not be as far away as you think.

Spring is an opportunistic season for trout anglers. When I say trout, I am generally referring to 3 species you could find in this area: lake trout, speckled trout and rainbow trout. Once the ice is gone, the lake water temperature remains consistent throughout its depths. This means you can catch various trout species close to shore and in areas normally reserved for warm water fish. Lake trout and rainbow trout tend to prefer cold water temperatures of 13 degrees C (55 degrees F) or less. That being said, rainbows are known to survive in temperatures of up to 18 degrees C (65 degrees F). Brook trout enjoy temperatures less than 18 degrees C (65 degrees F).

The kind of tackle that you need to catch these cold water swimmers is simple (at least as far as I am concerned). Pick a silver or gold colored lure from either of the spoon, spinner, or crank-bait sections of your tackle box. If you are in speckled or rainbow trout waters pick something small. Lake trout will take larger sized lures that you would might use for summer pike. These guidelines change completely if you are fishing in Great Lake waters.

Local Huntsville Trout Haunts

Generally speaking, the key to finding trout in our area would be to find a lake that has trout in it and and capitalize on the fact that cold water trout could be anywhere. You can try from a dock, a local boat ramp, or the boat you just took out of winter storage. That’s the benefit to spring trout fishing. I target areas where river and stream mouths empty, drop-offs, sandbars and rock faces that plunge into deep water.

The Huntsville Locks (potential species – lake trout, speckled trout and slight chance of rainbow trout)

Various trout species can be caught on either side of the spanning dam structure. I have had most of my luck on the downstream side of the dam. Trout can be caught in the faster water below the damn and the calmer section of the river that is accessed via a short walk downstream along Brunel road. Many rocky snags exist in the fast moving water here. Expect to lose some hardware. People fish from the dam but there are signs prohibiting this on the structure.

If you are going to fly fish, the river’s edge is sheltered with small trees and brush. There are random holes to fish from but not large enough for a worry-free back cast. You could try wading on the lower section of the river (away from the dam) but the water is deep and cold.

Do not be afraid to drop a line into the final downstream lock section. I have watched a successful angler haul in a nice lake trout from within the narrow section.

Vernon Lake (potential species – lake trout and speckled trout)

The subject location of many blog posts on my blog. Lake trout could probably be caught anywhere in the lake in spring. Unless your pro (I am not) or own a submarine to locate trout, I suggest you consider starting your trout quest at the mouth of the Big East River. It is in close proximity to Hutcheson Beach (section A in photo below) so you could launch a canoe from the beach. Alternatively, there is a very shallow boat ramp there but, despite its designation, I do not recommend it for large boats.

When you get there I recommend trolling/casting close to shore in along the letter (A to B to C…E) pattern in the photo right. Careful around section C, where the river first empties into Vernon. The sandbar structures will suddenly rise fast despite warning from your fish finder. This also is the area where I have caught the most trout. The bars seem to attract trout and they can be caught in the shallows or on the drop-offs leading off the sandbars. It would be worth your time to anchor ‘on’ or ‘just off’ the sandbars. Spend some time working the sand bars (and drop-offs) with various crank-baits and spoons. Some people have had success jigging white twister tails down the drop off.

As you approach section D expect a shallow, sandy bottom that extends well into the lake. Watch your depth finder and find a comfortable depth for your boat. I have also caught some nice trout in this section.

Optionally, you can troll your way over to section E. A small lake empties here and draws its share of bait fish.

Keep in mind that you could catch trout anywhere in this lake. My favorite trout lure in Vernon Lake is a large silver Mepps Syclops.

I call it trout candy.

-End of Part 1-

Do you still have the trout fishing blues? Are you looking for that more remote location to test your fishing skill? This next post will provide you with some pristine lakes and river systems to dip your trout spinner or fly below some glassy surfaces. The good news is that “remote” does not have to mean far.

One of the great things about living in Huntsville is that we are just on the geographic edge of  ’no’ where. A five minute drive north on Hwy 11 or 60 will put you in a remote landscape dotted with lakes, river systems and tall white pine vistas. A slightly extended drive of 20 to 30 minutes could easily take you the pristine and trout filled lakes of Algonquin Park.

Consider trying these areas for some spring trout.

Little East River (potential species – Speckled Trout)

North of Huntsville and just east of Novar, flows a tiny river known as the Little East river. In these dark, sparkling waters you can potentially find numerous pan-sized speckled trout. Ironically, the recommendation from nearby anglers is to fish the river as the black flies begin to emerge. When you do, don’t forget your best bug spray mixture. Access to the river can be tough. I try to fish the bridge areas where 592 intersects the river in 2 spots (labelled B and C on map) and a bridge on Fish Lake Road (labelled A on map). Be sensitive to the fact that parking on the side of the road is limited. Please do NOT park on private driveways and laneways.

Unless you are actually wading or float tubing on the river, flyfishing is tough here. It will test your confined area skills, but the payoff is awesome. My friend, Kevin, who fishes the this river often recommends this set-up when fly fishing the Little East River:

“The little East fishes best around the bug time primarily as they give themselves away by rising to the top. I have done well with prince nymphs and Gold head nymphs size 18 and 16 as well as grizzle-gnat size 20 dry flies.

Use a 3 or 4 wt rod with floating line, 7-foot 4x leader and 2 feet of 4 lb vanish fluorocarbon tippet.”

Another local angler and friend, Ray, recommends the following when fishing with spincasting gear in the Little East:

“A small spinning rod with the smallest kastmaster lures in gold/perch patterns have been good. A micro-hook and bobber system using meal worms should virtually guarantee trout in your pan.”

You can expect to catch specks in the 10 – 12 inch range. Please release what you are not going to eat.

Be sure to visit the bridge at Section C there is a nice pool on the east side of 592 with a great view you would expect to see a moose join you on the river. For the ultimate Little East experience, fish the water system from a canoe or float tube. One angler did and wrote me about his experience. Visit this link to read about it.

I should also mention that the Little East River flows across a large area. Don’t be afraid to use “topo” maps or google earth to find any spot along this river you can access and fish.

Tim Lake – Alqonquin Park (potential species Lake Trout, Speckled Trout and Splake)

If you have some time and a canoe rack on your vehicle – consider fishing Tim Lake in Algonquin Park. You will experience everything that a remote trip to Algonquin Park can offer and still be back home in time for a supper BBQ.

To get there, you will need to purchase a Park Permit from the Park office in Kearney. To get to Kearney take Hwy. 11 north and exit Hwy. 518  to Kearney (8km’s). After  you get your permit follow Hwy. 518 for 14 km and turn right onto the Forestry Tower Road. Follow the Park signs for 19 km to the access point #2 on the Tim River. There is a parking lot at the river landing but it fills quickly on the weekend.

Once you have unloaded your canoe, start your voyage down the winding river (you can only go one way because of a dam at the landing) and prepare your camera for breathtaking views and moose sightings. It is rare to navigate this river system without seeing moose. The paddle can take 20 to 40 minutes depending on the stamina of your canoe occupants. The river will eventually open into the Tim Lake (Section A).

I like to split my day on this lake into sections. When I enter the lake, I turn my canoe left (port) and troll off shore to Section B. This takes me to the mouth of a creek that empties into the lake. Take some time to anchor in 20 to 35 feet of water and cast a silver (or gold) spoon or spinner towards this creek mouth. (my apologies for the lack of clarity on the google map photo right)

If lures are not effective, try this frozen minnow ‘chunk’ technique. Before I head to Tim Lake (or any Algonquin Park lake), I freeze some minnows. On the day of my trip, I put them in a cooler and cut them into thirds as I need them in the canoe. Then, hook one of these minnow portions onto a barbless hook (this minimizes damage and hastens release time) and drop a weighted (rubber core sinker about 6 inches above the hook) line over the side of your canoe. Wait until the sinker bumps the bottom and reel up this rig until the slack is out of the line. This means your hook is ‘just’ off the bottom. Sit back and wait for the tap of nibbling trout. Set the hook and enjoy the battle.

Remember that LIVE BAIT is NEVER permitted in the park. It protects a vibrant fishery from human introduced invasive species that could upset the eco-balance. You should also know that lake herring (dead or alive) is NOT permitted.

If the trout are not biting at the creek mouth – continue trolling to Section C. This spot is my favorite fishing hole in the entire lake. It looks like a small, insignificant rock cut that dips sharply into the lake. It is a great spot where you can get out to stretch your legs and enjoy a shore meal. You can also catch trout by casting off of the short, rocky extension with spinners and spoons. A word of caution here: There is pine tree rooted in the ground behind the rock face. Its branches extend over the water. I think there is an old wobbler there, of mine, about 6 branches up.

Don’t ask…

From the rock face I suggest you finish your fishing ‘tour of duty’ one of two ways. The first is to reverse direction and re-visit all previous spots (Sections B and A) and finish by trolling along the rocky shore at Section D.

If you like an adventure and have the energy, continue on from Section C and troll the down the lake to Section E.  The lake empties into a second section of the Tim River. Once there, you should see a campsite on a rocky point. Anchor or troll off this point and you could hook into some larger trout. It seems (although not scientifically proven) that the trout caught here tend to be larger – but not as numerous. If you didn’t enjoy the view canoeing down the lake to get here (Section E), it may have seem like a wasted effort.

-End of Part 2 of 3-

Yesterday's photo submission of Extreme Weather Trout, reminded me of a fishing trip I had in Algonquin Park several years ago. The unusual experience has developed, at least in my thinking, an 'unscientific' theory that trout bite voraciously during snow storms.

Here is the story,

The clouds did not look very encouraging when dad and I put our kevlar canoe into the water after our first portage. The significant temperature drop, that preceded the clouds, made me wish I had packed my winter sleeping bag. I never thought that I would need it.

After all, it was the the third weekend in May.

If I remember correctly (it was several years ago), it started to snow by the time we had reached our camp site.

“Just swell.” was all I could muster under my breath as I began to unload the contents of our canoe onto the rocky shore. Our cooking fire warmed up our moods as we prepared for an after supper fish.

That’s when we made the right and wrong decision.

As we put our supper dishes away, the warmth of the fire seemed to be more of a draw than a cold north wind with its accompanying blizzard. So, we decided to retreat to our tents for the evening and pick-up on our fishing expedition the next day.

Made sense right?

Apparently, a couple of canoes we spotted across the bay (despite the snow) said differently. For the next couple of hours before dark, we heard shouts and cheers echoing across the water. It was all very puzzling to us from within the temporary warmth of our sleeping bags and fully clothed bodies. After a long evening of cold restlessness, we hit the water hard for the whole day.

We caught nothing. The lake trout were silent.

There was no lure or bait that we did not try. We even tried where we heard all the yelling the night before.

Nothing.

Let me fast forward to the next day. After another very cold evening, we packed up camp early and headed across the lake for home. We noticed the ‘rowdy’ canoes from the night before had beaten us to the portage. The puzzle regarding the yelling (we had heard the night before) was quickly solved.

Both canoes had their limit of huge lake trout. Apparently, the fishing was phenomenal during that stinking snow storm. The anglers were so excited by the way the snow trout were biting during the storm – they were cheering and yelling to signify their joy.

“Swell.” I whispered, under my breath, as I stared in amazement at the display of trout before me.

The point of this sad tale should be obvious. There is something about bad weather that drives Lake Trout mad in Algonquin Park. If you can safely fish – do it!

Tents are for the weak.

It would be hard to detect now, but if you looked closely, you might be able to see the evidence. I am referring to a small, short lived war that occurred on the shores of Tim Lake in Algonquin Park. I was only a kid.

The story you are about to read is not for the squeamish at heart. That’s probably why you won’t find it in any Canadian history book. I assure you that it really happened.

I was there. I started it.

It all began with our annual father/son fishing trip into Algonquin Park. None of us wanted a war – we just wanted to fish ’till we dropped. We set-up our campsite on a very large portion of the island that you see (in front of you) as you exit the Tim River. It was flat and sprawling. This made it ideal for a large group like ours.

After camp was ready, dad and I explored the surrounding area. Behind the campsite was a hill. A trail led up to this hill and at the top of it you could overlook the campsite. The rest of the guys were sitting around a campfire. If you followed the trail further, you would come to the outhouse that ‘serviced’ the campers.

It would have been a great photo-op, but dad and I never intended to bring the camera with us. After admiring the view, I took a small step back from the side of the hill and something crunched under my foot...

I looked down.

I had just stepped in a big pile of crusty, aged moose pellets. Dad chuckled. Upon further inspection, we noticed there was a ton of them in various piles at the top of the hill. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe, it was because we held the high ground. Perhaps, I was still enough of a kid to think it would be funny. I grabbed a moose 'terd' and launched it toward the guys sitting around the campfire. I thought dad would take issue over what I had just done. Instead, he grabbed a couple of pellets and fired a volley.

That’s how easy wars can start.

It took a few seconds for the guys to realize what exactly was falling from the sky towards them. Their reactions varied from, “What is that?” to “WHO IS THROWING THE MOOSE POO?!”

Their payback was swift and quick. We were quickly dodging falling moose dung. I remember laughing so hard my stomach and jaw hurt. For about 25 seconds all you could observe were grown men, and their sons, diving and dodging to avoid being hit with ungulate pellets.

I was glad Dad and I held the high ground. We were spared from the guys’ full fury.

As quickly as it started, it was over. I think the reality of what were doing finally hit us. The sounds of war subsided except for various flare-ups of laughter. We all washed our hands (that was for your sake mom) and returned back to maritime civilian life.

The war was over. The battle became known as Moose Hill.

*This story is yet another import from my old blog location - for those of you convinced you have read this before.

Last week I got an email with a photo from my cousin. He had hooked into a nice brook trout and sent me the photo to prove it. This is what it said,

"... It's a honey hole over in the east (somewhere in eastern Ontario). Got out for a lap of the lake (1hr) ended up with 3 ..."

For the love of all things fishing, cousin - take me next time! Thanks for the photo.