River Rats

From Right To Left, Justin And Me At The Launch

“Canoeing and fishing are ways to get beneath the surface of things, to open our hearts to the world.  They make us participants in nature instead of spectators, a crucial distinction because participants tend to become passionate and protective, and spectators tend to become indifferent.”

Dennis, Jerry. “Night of the Aurora.” Canoe and Kayak Magazine, July 2000.

As I stare down at the random spots of bubbling skin on my arms and ankles; the after effects of poison ivy, I am reminded of a recent adventure with my friend Justin.  We decided to hit a river where we could paddle down, camp alongside, and fish within its banks.  Yes, those banks are typically covered in Toxicodendron radicans, commonly known as poison ivy, but if you know what you’re looking for, you can keep the rashes to a minimum, and maximize your exposure to an outdoor expedition.

After compiling our gear, my wife helped coordinate our drop off.  Initially there was a chance for rain, but we ended up with perfect conditions.  As river rats we paddled and occasionally fished some outside bends, to no avail, as we made our way through a maze of downfalls that were now jutting above the surface; a result of the low water levels.  On the way down river to our designated camping spot, the bald eagles seemed as numerous as sparrows; several having much better luck at fishing as they carried off spectacularly large specimens most humans would gawk at.  In fact, it was with bugged eyes and mouths hanging open that we saw an eagle drop half a pike from the lofty tree that we were pulling up under to camp.  At first I thought the splash was that of a beaver-tail, but Justin in the bow of the canoe could see the white head of the massive bird that was responsible.  Upon closer inspection we found the chunk of fish in the water as the eagle flew up and out from under the canopy where it had been perched and feeding.  The remains of the pike measured roughly 16 inches of what must have been nearly 30 inches at the onset; a testament to the acute strength of our nation’s bird.

Justin Fishing An Outside Bend

The Half Eaten Remains From The Bald Eagle

The grass growing on the bank of our chosen camp was tall and nearly my height.  We pushed it over in a small area for our two tents, allowing the springiness of the grass to provide a mattress effect when we headed to bed that evening.  Next we collected a few small branches of oak to use as firewood; it was hard, dry, and would make great coals for our small cooking fire.

        Since it was still early evening, we set to exploring the section of the river near us to see what we might be able to catch while fishing.  Early on we tossed and hooked fairly expensive lures into submerged logs, losing them to the “river gods.”  They must have accepted our unwitting sacrifice, because I soon caught a smallmouth bass on a #5 silver Mepps spinner I had just tied directly onto my braided line; having lost the fluorocarbon tippet with my spinner bait moments before that.  While Justin worked through his own penance, I then hooked into a great river pike in an area Justin had previously explored.  I had a feeling that I was about to get a hit because I had felt the all too familiar sudden easy retrieve when something is charging your lure and pushing water.  Occasionally it’s because you are reeling your lure over submerged structures, but more often than not, you’re about to get a strike.  When the pike hit, I saw the swirl, set the hook, and felt the power.  There isn’t a whole lot that compares to experiencing the tenacity of a predatory fish like a pike.  It’s both awesome and unforgettable.  I managed to clip a fish gripper to it’s jaw and lift it up as Justin snapped a couple of pictures.  The pike measured at 27 inches and was worth every bit of that!

With A Little Smallmouth Bass

With A 27 Inch Northern Pike

Having dreamed of catching a fish and cooking it then and there as a shore lunch, we elected to keep it.  Justin went about cutting and breaking up our firewood while I got ready to clean the pike.  Unfortunately I had forgotten my fillet knife, so I had to use a regular knife instead; using a mud caked log along the bank as my cutting board.  Both of the fillets were too large for my iron skillet, so we cut them in half and fried them individually.  They were heavenly, delicious, and we tried our best to savor the taste, setting, and experience as we wolfed it down.  We decided to cook the tinfoil dinners that we had also prepared; full of potatoes, carrots, onions, and chicken.  The dinners weren’t necessary after the fish, but since we had them, we went ahead and stuffed ourselves.

The Overturned Canoe Acted As Our
Table & Bench At The Fire

Under the reflective light of the rising full moon I read Justin two humorous outdoor stories using my headlamp, laughing to Pat McManus’ “The Grasshopper Trap” and “First Knife.”  Afterwards, within my tent, I read from one chapter of Sigurd Olson’s The Lonely Land  before turning off my light at 11:00 and calling it a day.

The Full Moon Rising

Personally I slept fairly well, only waking to occasionally shimmy my sleeping bag back into position.  Justin said that it was the best that he’d slept in a tent in quite a while.  A cardinal started the day at 4:34 and that gave the rest of the nearby birds the permission necessary to begin reestablishing their territories and call out to one another.  One in particular called out to us all morning long from a nearby silver maple.

That next morning we fished again.  I managed to catch a second pike after a while; this one at 26 inches.  Both Justin and I had watched as it followed my spinner up stream, but it missed the strike as it came up and over the point of a sand bar I was standing on.  Two more back to back times the pike tried to hit the lure and missed before I finally slowed the reeling down to such a point that the spinner barely turned.  When the pike struck one more time I set the hook and managed to catch it.  It was a beautiful pike, and after a quick picture I released it back into the pool from which it came.

With A 26 Inch River Pike

After all of that excitement, we went back to our camp.  With the absence of dew, the tents were taken down and packed away dry.  The rest of our gear was piled, and after another delicious meal, this time of potatoes, sausage, and eggs, we loaded our supplies into our canoe and began our paddle down to our take out spot.

We talked, laughed about various mishaps with our fishing tackle, and thoroughly enjoyed paddling the river.  It was a fun adventure to have shared, and as Jerry Dennis quoted about those who canoe and fish, we delved deep as active participants in nature.  River rats that are passionate and protective of such environments that surround moving waters are certainly going to perceive and experience it in a refreshing manner.

See you along The Way...

Finishing Our Journey At The Take Out Spot