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Date: November 11, 2023 Body of Water: Lake Sebago - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake trout (togue) Time: 9:30 AM - 12:30 PM Moon Phase: New moon minus two days; waning crescent Conditions: Clear and bright, persistent NNW wind 10-15 mph with gusts, about 40 degrees. Water temperatures 49 degrees F (+/-) A planned quick trip was cut even shorter by a very stiff and building northerly wind. Alone at the State Park ramp again, I launched and motored to the humps off the Northwest River. I expected the thermocline to have dissolved and my first southerly pass included a Reef Runner crank at about 16 feet down and a bright spoon presented off two colors of lead and a long, light leader as I strafed over the shallowest portions of the humps. I marked very few fish and had no action, so I picked up lines and turned to the north to repeat a deeper pass over known, productive water. And that's when I realized how windy it had gotten! Beyond the humps' north end, I reset lines with a full core and a downrigger. Pretty quickly, I scored a fish on each. A 21-inch togue ate an Easter Egg (Glow) spoon on the full core over about 75 feet of water, while a simple white glow spoon, 25-feet off the rigger, got hit 50 feet down over 60 feet of water. This rigger fish was 20 inches or less. I continued my pass to the south with no further action. Controlling the boat and speed was getting more difficult. When I turned into the wind to set up another pass, I simply decided to call it a day; the wind was steady and the lake was getting angry. When I had some minor but real problems crossing the sandbar at the mouth of the Songo River (whether due to seiche or continued drawdown) upon return, I decided I was done with this launch for the season, too. What do I have to say about this? I've been holding out for the dissolution of the thermocline and the lakers moving into shallow water, but with holidays looming and now this ramp situation, I'm not sure I'll get to explore that part of the season! And yet I feel that I am not done; I'll have to decide whether the Standish ramp at Sebago's south end proves attractive and fishable, or move on to familiar trout ponds for any remaining sessions for 2023. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: November 4, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:30 AM - 4:45 PM Moon Phase: Waning Third Quarter Moon Conditions: Mostly cloudy to overcast, persistent southwesterly wind over 10 mph but calming in late afternoon, about 50 degrees. Water temperature 52 degrees F (+/-) One would think that the Northwest River would be in the lake's northwest corner, correct? But no, this is not a reference to the Muddy River, but rather to a separate drainage system. When the overall fishiest guy I've met in Maine mentioned launching from there and fishing some nearby humps for quality lakers, I listened. I refocused my thoughts on the western portion of the Big Basin of Sebago. One look at my GPS mapping showed the humps in question, and these looked closer to the state park launch and more protected from the westerly wind than the Frye Island waters. Of course, I was going to start my day in this new-to-me area! I was now also equipped with a downrigger, salvaged from the original Numenon. This gave me another method of presenting a spoon to deep fish, if need be. Despite the wind and chop, it was a dry ride to these new grounds, and I was setting lines in about 80 feet of water south of these humps by 9:45 AM. My initial spread was the productive white spoon off ten colors of lead, paired with a clean "Easter Egg Glow" spoon off the downrigger. I rode the waves to the north and east as I began my search for fish. I had a lot of faith in 75 -100 feet, but I also knew that the week's cold weather and wind had likely eroded the thermocline and mixed things up. I hadn't moved far at all when the full core of lead bent over in about 75 feet of water; I used the trolling motor to maintain control of the boat as I put the main motor in neutral to fight the fish. At almost 20 inches, this first fish of the day was bright, fresh, active and strong. I was off to a good start! Things normalized, and I'd gone quite a distance without a hit while covering water from 55 to 110 feet of water. I had circled back to this same area before I got my next hit on the same presentation. This was a fat 23-inch laker, also in about 75 feet of water. A pattern was slowly developing. While these two fish were associated with the same slight hump on a a deeper flat, the next fish came from a similar depth, but at the edge of a flat plunging into much deeper water. Once again the full core of lead got hit aggressively, and I landed a nice 24-incher. I continued my troll to the north, now focusing on 75-foot flats and the break-line into the depths. This worked too, but I farmed out two fish in a row after long fights on the full core before I connected again, this time with a seemingly solid fish. Alas, I lost this one, too, but this time to a worn leader. I'd been pretty good about checking this and retying as needed, but perhaps 8-pound leader is just too light for the bigger fish. They have pretty abrasive teeth, and sometimes roll themselves up in the leader, which can put some odd-angled pressure on the line during the fight. It hurt to have lost this spoon, but I have plenty of white spoons, so I started to swim another. Meanwhile, I was working the downrigger hard, frequently changing depths, lead lengths off the ball, and spoons. So far, I'd had a few releases, but these might have been the spoon grabbing bottom as I slowed down, turned, etc. I'd seen several fish rise to the ball but then sink away without eating. The latter part of the afternoon calmed and the rigger bite really woke up. Generally staying 8 -10 feet off bottom in 70-80 feet of water with a 25-foot lead off the ball started producing. All my rigger fish came on an old lake trout favorite, the White Ghost (Glow). These ranged from tiny to about 22 inches. At 4:43 PM, the rigger went for the last time, and I ended my day at 9 togue-for-12 real chances. Not bad, for new water! What do I have to say about this? Using the trolling motor while fighting fish or setting the second line was a real boon for boat control! A couple of the rigger trout spit out tiny alewife (less than two inches). I doubt they would find a small spoon at such depths, but it was interesting to confirm the bait. I think these are the "clouds" of bait I see near bottom, and when/if I jig for these lakers, I will keep a small bait in mind and available to match the hatch. I suspect the thermocline is largely dissolved, but at 52 degrees, the water is still too warm to expect the lakers to have moved very shallow. As I recall from Michigan's Crystal Lake, 48 degrees was the magic number, and 46 was even better for hungry shallow lakers. Had I not lost my spoon, and had I landed that heavier fish, it would have been quite the day! Instead, I'll just admit that it was a really fine day on the water! As an added bonus, I fell asleep to the ongoing hum of the downrigger cables; something I haven't done in quite a while! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 28, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Togue (Lake Trout) Time: 9:45 AM - 3:45 PM Moon Phase: Full moon Conditions: Clear and bright, but with some clouds and rain by session's end; calm but with a persistent southwesterly wind developing at 11 AM at about 10 - 15 mph; 60 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures 57 - 59 degrees F (+/-) and thermocline still in place. With a strong southwesterly wind predicted to develop, I decided to run across Sebago to the north end of Frye Island while I could. I figured I could always tuck into the channel between Frye and the mainland if need be, or cross the straits at the south end to the western shore of the lakes' main basin to explore new, but protected waters. By 10 AM, I was set up along Frye's western shore, exploring depths between 50 and 100 feet as I made my way north. My initial spread (which I ended up running all day) was the productive red-eyed white spoon off ten colors of lead; and a white/lemon/lime spoon of the same model off a newly rehabilitated rig with 150 feet of copper line. Theoretically, these were both attaining 45 feet or more of depth, and perhaps even a bit more at my target speed between 1.5 and 2 mph. Since water temperatures were basically stuck and I was still marking the thermocline with some regularity, I thought I'd give these their due time, at least until I'd convinced myself they were not working. The first hit came quickly and was a violent drive-by on the full core. Despite the rod doubling over dramatically and staying pinned down for a moment, somehow this fish was not hooked. Oh well, I continued my path to the north, noting some interesting structural elements worthy of additional inspection in subsequent trolling passes. One such element had some obvious targets hanging about, including a couple suspended about 45 feet down over 75 feet of water. Sure enough, the full core got bit again, and I was happy to slide the net beneath a spunky 21-inch togue. The first goal of the day had been fulfilled; my targeted quarry had been captured! I pulled the copper rig and motored to the south to set for another pass. As I turned into the wind, I noticed that conditions had dramatically deteriorated. The breeze had become a stiff wind, and whitecaps were forming over the main basin. Conditions were still very fishable, though, so I decided to stay in the area. After all, I'd had fish in two new locations and had not yet even made it to the area I expected to fish, hard! Lines reset, I made my way north for the second pass of the morning. The next action occurred almost directly over the waypoint for that last fish. Once again, I was marking some obvious targets on the sonar. This time, the copper rig bounced; nobody seemed to be at home, but a few beats later the rod bent over sharply. My newly-deployed, old-school approach paid off with a fat 23-incher. This rig had the advantages of being more effective at transmitting the actions of the fish, as well as being easier and quicker to deploy. I may have to cannibalize my 300-foot rig into additional, shorter presentations. With baits reset, I continued north through the waypoints from the previous weekend. Nothing happened in these 65 - 90-foot depths, but as I turned out over the deeper water at the end of this sunken bar, the full-core rod doubled over with a heavier fish. This turned out to be a beautifully marked 25-inch togue; my biggest Maine trout to date! Goal No. 2 for the day was now fulfilled, too! The wind was now really howling, and so I decided to hide in the lee of Frye Island. I trolled the picturesque channel between Frye and the mainland with out a bump. As I turned into the wind to get over the bar for another pass, once again the full core rod bent to a heavier fish; this 25-incher ate over 120 feet of water or more, but still near the edge of the break onto the bar extending from Frye's northern point. I circled around the sunken point's end, looking for another edge or deepwater fish, but to no avail. It was now about 2 PM, and I had a decision to make; stay and grind, or seek cover from the wind in unknown water? I decided one more fish would be nice and so I set up for a long pass through the water that had produced the day's action. If I didn't get one in the hour or so left of my fishing time, so be it; at least I knew I was around fish. I set the same spread, but changing out the copper rig's spoon with a "Bloody Nose" alewife spoon. At about 3 PM, the bite picked up nicely with three more fish along this now-familiar stretch. The full core produced two, the copper, one; all fish were the smallest of the day between 18 and 20 inches. Bites came between 75 and 110 feet of water, and at least two of the three were over or adjacent to existing waypoints; the third came from a juicy piece of structure (a feeding shelf in about 85 feet of water, leading to the extensive bar, but flanked by deep water, too). Goal No. 3 was in the bag; I'd landed five or more togue for the day. It was now cloudy, raining a bit, and the wind had a northwesterly component to it. I pounded my way into the harbor, perhaps the last person left on the lake for the day. What do I have to say about this? I left Goal No. 4 on the table; I didn't even attempt to catch a fish by jigging. Oh well, the trolling bite was good enough and it was certainly too windy to try to learn the jigging bite. I spoke with the Park Ranger on my way in this day, and he mentioned that anything "over 20 inches" is a nice togue on Sebago; but that trout to 30 pounds are caught each year. So I guess I am on the right fish, and there's at least a chance of an encounter with a true, quality fish. That's enough to keep me at this. A mounting system and hardware have been secured for a downrigger, so I look forward to adding that presentation to my spread in future trips. Catching fish on a clean downrigger presentation is more fun than dragging full cores! Although I do recognize, that on any given day, any presentation can be more productive than another. The 150 Copper fished pretty easily and showed itself well; I think I will add a 75 Copper to the arsenal, too. By my calculations, that should swim about 20 or 25 feet down and be light enough to be fun, overall. It was a beautiful Indian Summer day; but the weather has turned. Cold temperatures and wind will likely change things up before I can get out there again. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 22, 2023 Body of Water: Lake Sebago Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:30 AM - 4 PM Moon Phase: Full minus six days; waxing gibbous moon Conditions: Rain, overcast with a few patches of sun, and then fully cloudy with more rain starting at 2 PM and getting heavier; northwesterly wind to about 10 mph, 50 degrees. Water temperatures 57 degrees F (+/-) The weather (and especially the wind) was not nearly as bad as had been forecast. A lot of my gear was still pretty wet, so I grabbed my vintage neoprene waders, my modern StormR neoprene jacket, and headed out to Sebago again. I figured that Full Neoprene Mode would keep me warm and dry; and with the day's cooler air temperatures, such a drastic move was not out of bounds. Clearly, the full core (ten colors of lead) had earned a slot in the spread; and I complemented this with a dark spoon off two colors. My first spot was the submerged bar extending southwest from the channel into 120 feet of stare or more. I'd seen a kayak fisherman jigging the end the previous day, and it looked fishy on the map and on the graph! But when nothing materialized here, I continued along the break towards the northwest portion of the lake, bouncing between about 55 and 100 feet along the way. I'd made it all the way to the north bar off Outer Island before my first contact for the day. My deepest spoon got eaten by perhaps my smallest lake trout, ever, over about 50 feet of water or so. Once again, I was fortunate to have seen the strike, because it would have been all too easy to simply drag this parr-marked sub-footer until I eventually checked lines. I set up for another pass, but now with seven colors in addition to the full core. I traced my way around the edge of Outer Island and continued down the bar extending to the southwest, through a couple of waypoints from previous trips. It had been a slow morning; I had to make a decision. Should I be happy with what I knew, or should I try to force the issue and look for something better? It was still very calm, and I'd heard (somewhere, sometime), that the north end of Frye Island is a spawning/congregation area for togue. Six miles and 15 minutes later, I was resetting lines in 120 feet of water while I approached this new-to-me area for the season. I found the break and turned north. The map showed an extended sloping point from the island, eventually dropping to 110 feet of water before plunging into the depths. It looked appealing, as did the bait and the occasional suspended fish on the graph. I had just come through some bait at High Noon when the full core got tight in 75 feet; this felt like a pretty good fish, too! Unfortunately, I farmed this fish out, sight unseen, just ten feet below the surface. Perhaps I had played it too cautiously, but I'd missed a pretty good chance! I motored back upwind and reset lines for another pass. There were still plenty of active targets in this area. I'd gone through the 75-foot waypoint and was over 88 feet of water when the same line tightened again. As I played this fish, bumping the boat in and out of gear, another fish hammered the white "Easter Egg" spoon presented off the seven-color line. After a long hiatus, this unexpected double turned the day. The togue were only 21 and 22 inches, but each was fit and pretty. With three hits in half an hour or so, I convinced myself to stay and explore this general area. I probably stayed too long, though, as the wind picked up and took advantage of the long fetch. I was losing control of the boat and suffered a couple of minor tangles. I knew I was being inefficient, so by 2 PM I had relocated to the more protected northern shoreline. I set the same spread in 100 feet of water off the rocky point just east of the state park and took a moment to enjoy the calm waters here. I really wanted another fish (or two, or three), if only to push the boundary on my expectations for a day on this lake. Plus, I was on no specific time schedule, and I will always hold out for the possibility (even if remote!) of a big fish. There was plenty of life on the graph and pretty quickly, another togue grabbed the deep, white spoon over 75 feet of water. Once again, I flubbed the fish close to the boat; it seemed as if the hooks simply pulled after a long and slow fight. Ugh! I had drifted out over deeper water during the fight and quickly reset lines to repeat this pass. Boom! Another quick connection on the same presentation; and, unbelievably, another lost fish with the leader on the reel! WTF? I hadn't stayed in the rain to not catch fish, and so I deployed the baits once more and worked my way over to the area of the previous day's mild success. I focused on 70 - 90 feet of water (that's where they seemed to be hitting), and just as I passed a waypoint from the day before, I was on another fish. This one, a pretty 18-incher, stayed buttoned and came aboard. I worked my way south, where a broad flat with high spots extended well offshore. Right on top of one the shallowest points (about 65 feet deep), my rod dipped for the last time of the day; Togue No. 5 for the day was just under 19 inches long. What do I have to say about this? This was an excellent "bonus" day of fishing; I really had expected the weather to be much less hospitable. I am pleased to have built on my experience from the day before. I need to get additional deep options; whether it's rehabilitating a downrigger or an additional full core or Copper line; the fish really seem to be keyed on the deeper presentations. The thermocline was a little less evident on the graph this trip, and it might dissolve with the next big wind, but while it is in place, it is certainly positioning the lakers deep. I caught fish in several new spots this day (Frye Island, just east of the state park, and offshore from the northeastern islands). Three new spots revealed is a good day, as is any day one can come close to patterning the bites; full cores over 75-90 foot flats seemed to be the ticket, today. I miss the violence of Lake Michigan fishing, but if I have to tune in to subtleties and light bites, I guess I will have to do so. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 21, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:45 AM - 3:15 PM Moon Phase: Waxing quarter moon Conditions: Fog, drizzle, mist and rain showers, persistent but light ENE wind, about 55 - 60 degrees. Water temperatures 57 - 58 degrees F (+/-) The State Park was mine alone on what promised to be a wet and possibly windy day. Still, conditions were comfortable enough as I left the dock in a slight mist with a gentle east wind. I cleared the channel and turned east, into the wind. Water temperatures had dropped just a degree or two from the previous trip, and I expected the thermocline to still be intact. I figured I would troll with the wind at my back while I explored the deep drop off the State Park. But structure on my mapping GPS called me further east, to the various islands in the lake's Northeast corner. This lake is full of nooks and crannies, and I was intrigued by an obvious deep gut running between two islands. This pulled me in; and the I turned around to set my spread. I stuck with the same lures that had worked previously, a plain silver spoon off ten colors of lead and the silver/red spoon off seven colors. I marked many fish when over water depths of 75 feet or greater, but the first bite came pretty quickly and over just 65 feet. It's a good thing I saw the rod tip react to the strike; I could barely sense the fish until I'd wound all 300 feet of core in and the leader was in the rod tip. There'd have been a good chance that I would have dragged this small, 16-inch laker behind the boat without knowing for a long time! Oh well, they can't all be big, and I was happy to have made first contact so quickly. The thermocline seemed to be showing on the sonar, pretty consistently at about 45 - 50 feet down. That's about where my full core was reaching (perhaps a little deeper at my slowest speeds of about 1.5 mph). I circled around and promptly lost my plain but productive silver spoon. Recalling the "bite goes white" in fall, I replaced it with a similarly sized and shaped spoon in silver back, but with a glow/white front. The new spoon quickly proved itself with a 19-incher just adjacent to the waypoint from the first fish. This new area showed some promise! The last fish ate the same spoon and from the same general area; but I may have dragged it a bit, so I don't know exactly where it ate. What do I have to say about this? The southwest points of islands on Casco Bay are always a good place to start looking for fish, so why shouldn't the same be true for Sebago? I'm sure the land was subjected to the same glacial striations, and there are certainly plenty of boulders strewn about. I do seem to be a bit more productive when exploring significant structures on this lake, so I'll keep trying. I'm not proud to have lost some time today to a dragged fish and a lost lure (I continued to troll without checking, each time). The skiff gets squirrelly on the troll in the wind, and it is difficult to leave the helm and maintain two deep cores at the same time under such circumstances. I'm not as efficient as I remember from my Lake Michigan days! I feel like I am making a little progress; I was able to pattern the fish a little bit with all action being on the full, ten colors of lead and between 65 and 90 feet of water. I might as well recognize that this was my first three-trout day on Sebago. I stayed 15 minutes too long. While I'd stayed reasonably dry and comfortable all day, but a stinging rain caught me as I motored in. All in all, this was a pretty relaxing and satisfying day. This fishing isn't exactly exciting, but I still get a kick out of each bite and each fish. And this is filling the "between" season quite nicely as I wait for waters to cool enough to bring other trout to the shallows. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 15, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:45 AM - 2:15 PM Moon Phase: New plus one day; waxing crescent moon Conditions: Clear, persistent northwesterly wind increasing to about 15 mph, about 50 - 60 degrees. Water temperatures 59 - 60 degrees F (+/-) With amybaby22 off her mooring for the season, I was in trailer mode and with a hankering for some freshwater fishing. Based on wind (pretty strong and from the north!), thermocline (expected to still be present), access (good!) and reputation, I decided to try Sebago Lake for a shot at lake trout, known locally as "togue". The launch from the State Park at the lake's north end went fine, even if the water got awfully skinny for a section in the channel out to the main lake. I knew the northwest wind would keep me reasonably close. Based on a smidge of 2021 success and some interesting structure, I decided to head over to the mouth of the Muddy River and the Inner and Outer Islands that guard its mouth. I would have to rely on lead cores to attain any depth, but I had rods rigged with 2, 7 and 10 colors. These have all caught plenty of Lake Michigan Lake Trout. Still, I hedged my bets a little bit by staying "shallow", i.e., less than 120 feet of water or so, and I especially focused on about 60 to 110 feet while I scouted for potential fish to vertically jig. Setting up along the western shoreline, I started marking targets and bait almost immediately, so I was filled with some hope for an active session. By 10 AM, I had spoons behind the "full" 10-color line (with a very basic silver spoon in typical Lake Michigan "alewife" shape and size) and a shorter and shallower, 2- to 4-color presentation (with a smaller Michigan Stinger Scorpion spoon in copper and red). I trolled as slowly as able, which into the slight headwind at this location, kept me at about 1.5 mph. Despite a couple of adjustments, I hadn't contacted a single fish by the time I had passed through the gut between the two islands. As I passed over the saddle connecting these and slid into deeper water, I marked some interesting targets near the bottom in about 110 feet. I pulled lines, readied the trolling motor, re-positioned, and set up Spot-Lock. I was able to feel, control, and see my baits (a 2-ounce bucktail jig with a Gulp! trailer, or a 3/4-ounce jigging spoon) to my total satisfaction, but the marks were unresponsive to any of my presentations. Soon, I was back on the troll, which was okay because the wind was really freshening at this point. Now, I trolled south alongside Outer Island and past the reef off its southwest tip. I knew this area held interesting structure and cover in the form of huge boulders based on 2021 downrigger issues here. I had to bump-troll and cut across the wind to maintain a slow speed, and the boat was crab-walking across the surface of the lake. My lines were at an odd angle, but the full core was especially odd and the rod holder was suddenly strained. Fish! In 110 feet of water, I grabbed the rod, confirmed a decently heavy head-shake, and very carefully wound the fish in. I slipped the net under a pretty, 23-inch togue; I hate to say it, but this is my largest Maine trout, ever, and the largest trout I've landed since I left Michigan in 2019. I continued to work this area, and replaced the silent, shallower presentation with a full 7 colors of lead. On this I placed another very basic Lake Michigan Lake Trout spoon in silver with some orange/red tape. Nothing else happened here, and so I changed gears and worked the drop along the north shore. An expansive sand flat here drops from 7 to well over 100 feet of water in a steep but erratic wall. After a couple of flubbed attempts (in which I ended up too shallow and snagged bottom), I managed to set up a pass in over 45 feet of water. I had just set the second line (7 colors of lead) when it bent over in about 60 feet of water. This shallow-water trout fought better than the first, and matched it in length (if not girth). I thought I was on to something good; but I didn't convert this into any more action. Still, it was good to catch some fish in new-to-me areas and with trusted, old techniques that I just haven't used here in Maine. I'll be back! What do I have to say about this? While these lakers would never have warranted a second glance on Lake Michigan (although I would have welcomed them in just about any tournament!), any day one catches two local Personal Bests is a good one. And each was pretty and seemingly fit! I will gladly build upon this small success. Catching smallish fish on the heavier tackle required for long lead core presentations isn't the most fun, but it is relaxing. My joy in fishing cores is detecting the strike by the awakening of the reel's drag system. Neither fish was able to announce themselves in this manner; I'll have to wait for the next opportunity to re-live that experience. Internet intel indicates "the bite goes white" during Sebago's fall season, so I will mix in some white offerings too. I guess the forage is both tiny smelt and full-sized alewives, so I will continue to mix in different sized spoons. That's why I just purchased two separate vertical jig kits, one advertised as the "small bait" option, and the other for "large bait" situations. There's so much to learn! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 29, 2023 Body of Water: Upper and Middle Range Ponds - Poland, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: Clear at first but becoming cloudy; calm but developing a stiff ESE breeze over 10 mph; 40 - 54 degrees. Water temperature 48 - 51 degrees (+/-). With the weather "stuck" for the past two weeks, going North to a new pond wasn't going to be the best choice. Instead, I chose the local, familiar confines of Upper Range Pond and adjoining Middle Range Pond. What started as a chilly but gentle Spring morning became a raw grind of an outing. There was plenty of optimism for the day. Gentle conditions, two kinds of airborne insects (midges and tiny mayflies?) and favorable water temperatures all had me daydreaming of a good trout session. The initial spread included the Rainbow Trout Rapala F11 (flat-lined 125 feet behind the rod tip) and a tandem streamer from the sink-tipped fly line, both worked along break-lines and weediness with the electric motor. After a search around half or more of Upper pond without a bump, the substitutions began. I moved to deeper water, where humps and boulders abound, and where I marked plenty of fish. Clouds were increasing and the ESE wind was developing. I mixed in the main motor for increased speeds (above 1.9 mph) and improved boat control in the wind. Two to five colors of lead-core were implemented, and an S7 Rapala in green swam as my shotgun search lure. At about 11, still without a touch, I ventured into Middle Range Pond. The initial spread here included the trusty F11 and a DB Smelt presented off one or two colors of lead in shallow water. I'd searched a good chunk of the shoreline by 1 PM and still had not found any fish. I moved into the main lake basin (attaining depths over 60 feet on this lake) and presented lures from top to almost 40 feet deep with seven colors of lead. At the very least, I imagined that I had now added togue to my list of likely targets. I finally noticed a dense concentration of "something" on the graph, suspended at about 20 feet below the surface. I pulled the deepest core and shortened it to about four colors to run at about that depth. I'd tried to keep the fish honest with shallow presentations over this deep water, too, but perhaps my longest lead had been below any active fish? At just about 2 PM and over 58 feet of water at 1.7 mph, six solid hours into the session, the drag of my two-color presentation (now terminated with an orange-and-black-dotted DB Smelt) finally slipped with some authority and the light rod bowed deeply! But, in what has become something of a disturbing pattern, the small hooks pulled from the fish about half-way back to the boat. I never saw the fish, and my first thought was Laker!, but the spinning head shakes and successful gyrations it employed about 40 feet behind the boat make me wonder. It probably wasn't a giant, but it certainly was a substantial trout. I continued this effort in this area for another half hour, now with spoons presented off two and three colors of lead, but I ran out of time before anything else could happen. What do I have to say about this? I did confirm that my lead-core lines are reaching a little over five feet of depth for each color of line at approximately 1.7 mph when I grabbed bottom in 21.5 feet of water with four colors out. My mixed feelings for the trip include the following: -Half proud of my effort but half ashamed that I am struggling to catch any trout! -Half encouraged by contacting another nice fish but half revulsed by my inability to execute my chances -Half sunny but half cloudy -Half gentle but half raw -Half a decent launch facility but half a cluster -Half shallow but half deep -Half electric but half main motor -Half spoons but half stick-baits (and somehow, a bit of fly) -Half Upper but half Middle -Half loons but half ducks and geese -Half excited to move on to stripers but half reluctant to end this seasonal quest Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 22, 2023 Body of Water: Mousam Lake - Shapleigh, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Brown Trout and Brown Bass Time: 9 AM - 3:15 PM Conditions: Cloudy and raw; easterly wind swinging to the south over 10 mph and about 42 - 50 degrees. Water temperatures unchanged from last week at 48 -50 degrees (+/-). I returned to Mousam Lake. I figured there wouldn't be another bass tournament and I expected conditions to be very similar to the previous weekend. I was hoping for a beautiful brown trout, thinking about lake trout, and prepared to chase smallmouths if I chose to. It turned out to be a pretty good choice for a fairly raw but quiet Spring day. The session did not start well; my motor overheated as I started to move up the lake. I immediately switched to electric power and elected to stay close and troll the southern end of the lake while I let the motor cool down. After I'd set my spread (F11 Rapala in Rainbow Trout, 125 back and a DB Smelt off two colors of lead), I circled the familiar area from previous weeks. After a brief rest, the 30-horse Suzuki started right up, circulated cooling water, and idled perfectly for about 15 minutes as I continued my electric troll. Since I'd not contacted any fish, I pulled lines and headed up the lake. I made it all the way without any issues, so whatever Suzi's issue was, it was apparently ephemeral. Arriving at the productive, north-end reef complex, I chose to fish with the F11 but with a fly-line presenting a Gray Ghost tandem streamer as my second line. This outfit was equipped with 10 feet of sinking tip and additionally with several feet of sinking leader, and so the streamer remained a little under the surface. I trailed this perhaps 50 feet behind the boat, hand-held the rod, and provided frequent forward sweeps to make the fly surge ahead. I'd just completed my first pass along the reef and was starting to turn out to execute a turn when this fly got jolted! I was excited to finally connect in this manner. My first Maine freshwater trolled-fly-caught fish was not the brown trout I'd targeted, but rather a dark and rotund smallmouth bass of approximately 14 inches. That bass set the tone for the day. I continued trolling with the electric motor, generally at speeds between 1.5 and 1.8 mph. I continued to contact brown bass on rocky points, sandy humps, and nearby. One ate the Rapala, but everything else hit the fly. I also caught a beautiful, 16-inch brown trout on the F11 (almost directly over a waypoint from the previous week, adjacent to a point and sandy flat), so the F11 kept swimming for me, too. Around lunch-time, I searched the deeper water of the northern basin with the lead/DB Smelt combo. Despite marking a lot of fish, I had no takes in this area that had been so productive for me in 2022. I'd brought a single spinning rod along to cast for bass if I chose to do so. Since I seemed to have the bass located, I decided to try casting to specific structures with a jerk-bait while utilizing Spot-Lock. Surprisingly, I didn't get touched in 45 minutes, and so I returned to trolling. I expanded my trolling areas and experimented with lures. A mid-lake reef and adjacent bay produced a couple more decent smallmouths. One of these ate the DB Smelt, which had otherwise been silent for the day. Near the day's end, the trolling motor abruptly quit. It turned out to be just a drained battery. As I'd understood, the new lithium battery had delivered perfect performance right until it was totally dead. What do I have to say about this? I left the lake with swallows dipping and lots of water remaining to explore. I was surprised at the minimal trout activity, but happy enough with the incidental bass action. Of the 9 or 10 I'd landed, three weighed a couple of pounds or more, and they certainly fought better than the day's brown trout. It was nice to successfully add another technique to my arsenal, and a few more spots revealed themselves. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 16, 2023 Body of Water: Square Pond - Acton, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Brown Trout Time: 9:15 AM - 3 PM Conditions: Cloudy but clearing; inconsequential wind and 50 - 65 degrees. Water temperature 48 - 50 degrees (+/-). Square Pond is generally recognized as Maine's best water for brown trout, having produced the state record 23-pounder a couple of decades ago. I've also heard of various "teenager" trout from here, and so it's been on my radar since I've moved to Maine. I finally deciphered the public access situation (it's just a few miles beyond the Mousam Lake access), and so it was a no-brainer to go give it a try! The ramp will be iffy during any period of low water, and the culvert to the main lake limits the boating options, but soon enough I was in the lake's main basin. A few boats were trolling the break-line into the 35-foot basin for brown trout, but I chose to head up to the northern extent of the lake. Here, I picked up the break into 15 feet or so as I set my starting spread of a flatlined F11 Rapala and a DB Smelt off two colors of lead core. In the first couple of minutes, the DB Smelt got ripped, but I did not connect. Just a few minutes later, the same presentation got hit again over a rocky point, and I landed my first Square Pond fish, a fat, dark 15-inch smallmouth bass in good shape. The next rocky point yielded a similar-sized largemouth. Clearly, the bass were starting to stage for their spawn, and this lake did not suffer from a lack of similar points and flats. I was off to a good start, but was still searching for a brown trout. After another 15 minutes or so, I headed out to the main lake basin. I gave it a solid hour with a flat-lined Rapala and alternating spoons off two and five colors of lead. Without a touch and not seeing much on the graph, I decided to re-visit the shallows in other parts of the lake. I found a couple of other pods of bass, but had no apparent trout action. Skies had now cleared and I decided to try the main lake basin again, this time trolling more slowly with the new Minn Kota. I presented a Michigan Stinger (Mixed Veggies) spoon off two colors of lead and a dodger/smelt fly off five colors of lead. Trolling at 1.5 mph, the spoon got slammed over 35 feet of water! But I didn't hook up, and I could only wonder what it might have been. That strike kept me going for the next hour, at which point I was simply out of time. The skies had totally cleared and the wind had died. I was seeing some insects coming off the water; and for good measure, a fly-fisher in less than 10 feet of water landed a nice brown as I approached the ramp. I'll be back! What do I have to say about this? This was a good experience on a nice lake. It offers great potential and should be quiet in the "off" seasons. I know a lot of locals slowly troll live bait for trout, that is something I may need to explore. Meanwhile, I have to decide if I should be fishing for bass, instead; the trolling motor will make this possible and more efficient. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 15, 2033 Body of Water: Mousam Lake - Shapleigh, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8:30 AM - 1 PM Conditions: Bright and sunny; ENE breeze less than 10 mph and 50 - 65 degrees. Water temperature 46 - 51 degrees (+/-). What a difference a week makes! After a few days of intense sunshine, the ice was gone, the dock was in, and both air and water temperatures were a solid 10 degrees or so higher than six days before. I hit the water with high expectations. I started in the southern basin and circled through the productive water from Easter Sunday. This only produced a small brown bass on the first pass (DB Smelt strikes again!). I trolled through the neck leading to the causeway access to the main lake without a touch. By 9:30 or so, I was setting up my trolling spread along the reef guarding the northernmost portion of the lake. I circled and strafed the reef a couple of times with my blue F11 Rapala and the DB Smelt of choice off two colors of lead. I tried to focus on 8 - 11 feet of water (the spoon was running about 8 feet down at about 2 mph), but of course wandered both too shallow and over deeper water. With no touches, I expanded my search. I'd just passed over a shallow rocky point when I had a heavy hit on the trusty DB Smelt. Unfortunately, this fish came unbuttoned without a sighting; it felt sizable. Continuing upon the shoreline, the next rocky point produced another heavy strike. A beautifully fat, 3+ pound smallie put on an aerial display and came to hand. When the next pass produced another brown bass of about 15 inches, I had to think that perhaps the first fish had been a bass and not the trout I sought. Lesson learned; these bass were fit and staging on shallow rocky points with the water temperature between 48 and 50 degrees. With that knowledge in my back pocket, I continued my quest for trout. I turned north, and my next action was a 14-inch brown trout on the lead-presented DB Smelt. This fish ate in about 12 feet of water as I dropped the spoon back, over an existing waypoint from last year. I continued north and explored both shorelines and basins. Although these had produced in 2022, I wasn't touched, this trip. With the clock ticking, I decided to grind out my time on known, productive spots. The reliably productive DB Smelt was a given presentation, and I had faith in the F11 for producing a big fish. I had just edged over the shallow shoulder of my reef into about 6 feet of water. I adjusted boat positioning "out" while watching my lead-core rod. It got pulled down hard, and I thought I might be snagged, but the drag was slipping too fast and I could feel the rod pulsing. I had two thoughts; a side-snagged fish, or possibly a big lake trout. I carefully worked the fish into sight; it was a fine laker of 10 or 12 pounds! It hadn't fought too well so far, but when it noticed the boat, it went on a continuous run of almost 100 feet (confirmed by the counter on my reel and the disappearance of all my lead core line and well into the backing). I slowly worked the fish back to the boat. It was a beautifully marked charr and the white edges of the fins were brightly lit. As I reached with the net, the hooks pulled and she side-stepped the mesh. Ugh! While not a targeted brown, this was a "hella" togue for an inland lake, and would have been my best Maine freshwater fish to date. Lesson learned; this lake has potential for togues, and to catch them in cold water on shallow reefs is always fun! Was it a good way to end the day? I can't decide. But my time was up, I had to go, regardless. What do I have to say about this? I was little surprised and disappointed with the lack of action from brown trout but that near-miss made the day. I also learned about the next day's bass tournament, and so I decided that my next trip would have to be somewhere else. So much water, so little time... Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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