“There will be days when the fishing is better than one’s most optimistic forecast, others when it is far worse. Either is a gain over just staying home.”
R.H.B.
… and so with that constantly in mind, the past week and a half was busy with getting out of the house and enjoying what fall fishing has to offer. GOLD!!!
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OCT 22. Day 1. Worth Getting Up & Out.
After a quiet nightshift and about 3 1/2 hours of totally interrupted and shizzy sleep, I just got up, made a coffee and bagel for lunch, then a sandwich and iced tea to have for supper, and hit the road with the WarCanoe to a local pond. Around 2:00pm was launched and planning on smacking bass and eyes.
First cast a pike. Second a walleye. Fifth a smallie. Very quickly I woke and didn’t feel so lazy anymore.
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Cruising about the weedbeds all fish were active. Pike the most, eyes secondly, largies then smallies. Perch were in the shallows in huge schools and once the breeze died off could be seen just wreaking havoc on the surface. It was a pretty visual afternoon looking over the dying veg and watching the fish swim around.
Closer to sunset and before the light got dimmed by the incoming cloud, I hit a pocket of eyes and nabbed seven quickies to go with the one from earlier. Some quality was in the mix. A fella cruising up the shoreline in his little tinny could be heard talking to himself from a mile away. Powered by what could have been an old Chrysler outboard, he slipped right on past me trolling with his two rods.
“Git any?” I ask.
“Nothing yet,” he quiffs.
“Where’s you partner?” I snicker.
“On shore,” he wafts.
Knucklehead poacher.
Anyhow, I went home quite happy.
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OCT. 23. Day 2. Post Lamb’s Slammed.
My buddy Mike (SM05) and I had planned to fish either in the hills with the WarCanoe or, weather permitting, Quinte. Mike had never experienced Quinte so come 8:30-9:00am we launched for eyes. Before the third line was set Mike had the first of the day.
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We trolled just a little further before circling back on the spot he hit the first fish, and there again, he momentarily begrudged me giving him a second.
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Anyways… bite on the eyes slowed for an hour and some, then I got on the board.
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By noon it turned to rush hour and Mike and I were thoroughly enjoying a perfect day on the water. Over the next few hours we doubled-up three times and took turns draggin’ em in. Lost a few, broke a net, and the big fish nearing the end of the day happily fired on my lighter inside Clarus and put up a strong fight to the finish. Those rods really are a treat for this kind of fishing… unless a sheepie hits .
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Mike grabbed his smaller meat fish from the well to join the party pic after we laughed our way through one of our double-headers. He tells me later that day how he hates me because I introduce him to fishing like this, the Lund, Kesagami, his PB pike and now on this day the walleyes…
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Out of nowhere really, the wind began picking up about 3:00pm. I began humming and hawing about pulling the chute early. Oddly enough, a final double header had us clear the lines soon enough anyways, and so we figured that and Mike’s first lamb was a good note to safely end the day on.
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Home by supper, pickerel-tickled-pink after those two totally different days and ways of gettin’ em hooked up. Time with Mike is time well spent. 11/16 on a shortened day was alright with us.
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OCT. 25. Day 3. Panning & Planning.
Forecast was cold and windy and being a Tuesday it wasn’t a surprise no others wanted to join. The quad having not seen any action in months called out, “take me, take me!” Evening before I rigged’er up, loaded it in the truck, sorted the simple fish gear, float tube, munchies, and finally that night poured over the topo software and Google Earth and came up with a plan to seek out a remote back lake and find out what’s in it. If that didn’t work, back-up was to hit the trails and find accesses into future spots.
Come that quiet, frosty Tuesday morning I was gone. Fish in mind and the sun on my face, it didn’t take long to find worth by the simple efforts alone.
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The GPS inidcated my drawn route was mapped out right. The lake was just a half mile or so away when…
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No signage on route in. Nothing indicating “Private Property” or “No Tresspassing.” Just a low lying chain across the road that if it snowed two feet could potentially kill a skidoo’er. These inconveniences often make me question, is it really land owned, or is it land some falsely think they do? With a 3000lb winch on the bike during such moments, at times I feel that any uncertainties like this, could easily be answered. On this day, I chose to park and walk in for a look.
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Upon reaching the lake it was made apparent that turning back would be necessary. I would choose then to find a different route in, possibly reaching the lake from the otherside. Once back on the bike, getting off the blocked trail and back onto the main, watching the GPS I eventually found a different path. This one landed me right in the perfect spot.
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Turned out to be a chilly float. Kicking my feet and soaking the legs in real cold water for hours makes me shoreline-wizz alot too. Upon entering the water I took note of a good looking point and thought how I’d hit that on the way back to finish the day. Should have started and finished there instead. Circled the lake almost entirely (and fished the belly too) only to pick out a couple snots. Out in front of “the good spot,” I had a great big smallie on but it managed to not bend into my 16-inch trout net and instead kicked out and off. Later reward was two more little boogers off a rock pile.
Will someday give the lake one more chance. Northwind blowing, new body of water… judging by that smallie as well, I should go back. It was a “scenic spot.” And remember, anytime there’s plenty pics of the scenery, it generally means… my fishing failed me, and you all. HA!
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OCT. 28. Day 4. Patty’s Day.
Some will remember “MuskieMagnet” from some online places. Pat really should be named just “FishMagnet” in reality as, it just doesn’t matter what he’s after and when, fish are drawn to the man. Well, he’s been fishing The Bay for years and it was this day that he found a new PB at 34-inches and 14 pounds.
We got away late due to the PD day for the kiddies and The Bomber hit the water about 10:00am. Before setting lines we stopped briefly to say hello to a couple of boat crews whom were part of a group gathering of friends staying in the Quinte area for an extended weekend. Early reports were that fishing was slow.
Right off a previous waypoint, fourth line was just being put out when Pat took the first turn when an inside rod fired. “It’s a big fish Bunk,” Pat would often announce while reeling it in. Indeed it was. The fish gave Pat the gears all the way to the boat. When we saw if off the transom we went nuts. It was a true hog. Not slobby in belly, the fish was just built brick thick all the way around. Wicked fun and after it, the whole day would be perfect no matter what.
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Pat and I grinned and laughed until packing it in before sunset. Yes the days fishing was slower overall; going 5/7 but with just two eyes, but that’s fishing. Days when you trade numbers for personal bests are almost always better days anyhow. Sharing this one with a great angler and friend who’s put much time on the water there over the years was, just awesome.
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NOV. 1. Day 5. Like Son, Like Father.
One of the best days on the water this past year was when my father joined me for gar. When I think of it still, seeing him land a missile 16+ pound toothy dinosaur continues to make me grin from ear to ear. Well, last year I was a newbie to Quinte and took Dad there too early in September, only to struggle and not get him a fish. Having had a little practice since then, it was in the plans to have him return with me, and do better.
10:00am late start again on The Bay. Twenty minutes with lines in Dad takes a rod with a HEAVY fish on it and now has 500 feet of line to get in. Not until clearing the planer board half way through, do I get a sense (tuggin’ feel) that it’s bigger than your average big fish. For a first time too, Dad plays it really well. Boat in gear, the counter still shows 71 feet and the line is actually almost straight down and below the boat. He says, “I can’t move it” and just moments later the fish pops off.
OK… it sucks a minute… maybe longer. But over the next half hour four rods fire and we even enjoy a mildly chaotic double-header together. In that stretch, Dad gets his first sheepie and his PB walleye at 10-pounds and an ounce.
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And with this perfect photo, I now have a new great memory to go along with others, while out fishing with Dad.
We picked up a good number more through the day. The midafternoon slowed down quite a bit but every now and again another board pulled back. Dad gave me the chance to enjoy a few as well. Happily I reeled in some meat fish too, that I plan on giving my “pickerel-loving” Grandpa for Christmas… instead of the usual, sweater.
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But all-in-all it was Dad’s experience. 11/13 by days end he even up’d that PB 10 of his with a new best 11.0 pounder. The previous years skunk now forgotten and a much better walleye day to take it’s place.
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Days on Quinte have quickly become less about the fishing. There’s just good feeling when sharing days like I had with Mike, Pat and my Dad this past couple weeks. It’s looking forward to that, along with tweaking the set-ups and knowing the possibility that when you finally feel it’s your turn to reel one in, it could be the next beautiful record walleye. That’s BOQ!!!
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From float-tubing golden eyes and bass in the back bush to picking the right battles with Lady O’s world-class trophies, Eastern Ontario is a great place to call home… and with just over two years back living here now, a vast place to learn more, explore, enjoy, and find fish. Get out there and enjoy, the season for fishing here never seems to end.
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Bunk
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