When the red and white bobber would drop it was like the whole world would stop just for that moment. Everything else going on around, others talking, birds chirping, traffic in the distance, it wasn’t there anymore. The only thing present was me, a fishing rod and the excited anticipation of catching what was hooked on the end of the line. Now some 30 years later I can’t say quite those same feelings exist anymore with every fish I catch. Countless moments have blessed me over and over, all across Canada, fish species of every kind, that I guess such familiarity to it somewhat numbs the feelings. And so now it takes more. The tug is the drug angler’s say and they’re right! In it’s beginning every slight tug is the high, a little euphoric escape that pulls you away from everything else. As much as you believe you’re hooking the fish, you’re actually hooking yourself. Like any drug though, soon after for that same effect you need the bigger dose. Maybe it is more time fishing, more fish caught, more kinds of fish to catch, fish over here and fish over there, bigger fish, then bigger and bigger again… now you’re just a junkie angler and there’s no way out.

I spoke to Bob Izumi once. He took pictures with my daughters in the fall of 2009 on the Big Rideau. Through my late teens and even 20’s Bob was hands down my favorite guy to watch on T.V. A rare success in the business, the best, now there was a man who lived fishing. We had a brief moment he and I, the Bob takes you in being that he’s very friendly and personable. Told him of course how I have always enjoyed the show, where I had been living and fishing, how he has helped better my angling over the years, and I further professed my addiction to it all. To that Bob made the only one of two replies I actually remember from our meeting, he laughingly said “ohhh a fishing addiction is worse than crack! And a lot more expensive too.” Bob autographed a couple photos of my daughters with some of their earliest catches from Moose Factory. I remember him looking at the one picture of Summer and noticing her big fallfish. A lot of people get stumped on that species but Bob remarked quick as a tack, “ohhh, that’s a really good fallfish!” He was right, because we used to catch them to record sizes up north.

Bob was bong on about the fishing addiction, it is something he certainly has, and has mastered. I too have come to find it is through a need, my compulsive performance of the behavior where I too find and master my art and expression. Growing to greater angling truly involves a creative or imaginative talent, a technical proficiency, concepts and much emotion, which all combined really defines art. That’s probably how and why many anglers become so passionate about it, why we need it, and how we addict ourselves to it. It’s a driving force that the more we try to master, the more it only drives us further, but throughout it all we happily feel and express ourselves in fishing.

Every damn thing swimming I have ever chased at one point and time had it’s beginnings, it’s studies and it’s experiences. When thinking a few weeks ago about spring trout I began looking back on many of the photos stored at home here, reflecting on those highs which fed my need and also shaped this fishing life. It was some first doses of trout fishing that date back to my earliest memories, experiences that I’ll admit were when fishing began to take on a stronger hold…
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Mid teens, early 90’s, I had been dabbling a little with bass and bullhead when a friend invited me to his father’s camp in Quebec. Brook trout fly fishing on secluded little back lakes, from float tubes or cached boats I remember that first time like it was yesterday. From a dusky porch in the afternoon shade, screened in from bugs, my friend’s father began explaining fly fishing while showing me various flies he had tied to catch these “speckled trout.” On the lawn afterwards I began practicing 10 and 2, sloppily flinging about a 9 ft, 6wt rod and tangling myself countless times in the line. That evening, we boated across one still lake, waders on we walked through bog and bush trail to another, and dawning flippers on our feet, squished through the shoreline muck until deep enough to sit in the float tube and kick ourselves away. It was heavenly. It was freeing, peaceful, adventurous and exciting all rolled into one. I’d been told if I see fish rising on surface bugs to switch to the Adams dry, but otherwise, from the tube just lazily troll the Mickey Finn. A trout angler was born, it was a highest of highs. The years that followed I could not wait to return there each spring or summer and find that heaven again. They were some of the greatest and most impressionable days in my young life.

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College would work itself into a new path to Northern Ontario. An old photo exists somewhere of me catching one searun speckled trout on a fall day in 2000. The smile beaming wider than the fish was long, I was so happy.

Trout fishing in the area of James Bay where I was living wasn’t nearly as easy as some would think it to be. Everything was about timing and the right windows were short. Spring was optimal just after ice-out, the lower stretches of the river relating entirely to the tides. There was a definite learning curve and many days with nothing to show for my efforts. Because of this, each and every trout caught was a great victory for me. None more so than these float tube and shoreline specks taken over the first few years.

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My eldest daughter Summer had fun the times we went out, we’d make a playful day of it with more hiking and exploring than actual fishing. The third photo in with the pink hairjig hanging from it’s mouth, that was a fish which I’d hooked first cast but lost at my feet. Believing it would not leave the pool I kept casting in there for two or more hours until by chance hooking a leech. After attaching that bait to my jig the next cast that speckled trout bit once again.

Purchased the first WarCanoe in summer 2006. Come the following spring the float tube and shoreline were abandoned, there was a new excitement to try fishing the searuns out closer to sea. At the mouth of the Moose River, when spring’s ice out waters are highest, the tiny, shallow, creeks existing in the flats there swell with the rising tides every twelve hours. During those periods of high water they are accessible to boat and fish, and created are windows for trout to move into warmer, spring runoff areas for feeding. It was one such spot, Wavy Creek, that during those few hours from the WarCanoe I could troll or cast, pink or white bucktail jigs, and catch more searuns than ever before… What I would do today, to go back in time to 2007 when first getting high on that fishing.

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The following year instead of down river to the tide flats I pointed the boat upriver to some of the big tributaries which feed the Moose River. Cheepas and North French mainly, there were no trout to be found in the Cheep but, the French proved to hold a few. Walleye and pike were usually the main quarry upriver in spring, the high water flows allowing the canoe to travel great distances for only a few weeks before lower summer levels blocked all access. In various spots I came to find some specks but, it was never gang-busting action. There was one day catching five that put me over the moon but otherwise, it was one or two at a time and always a special treat. Nicest thing about the North French though, was it’s beauty and wildlife, the exploring, and some awesome little campsites Bren, myself and any friends along might use. Fishing during those short, spring dates after our long winters made me come very much alive after a long hibernation.

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2009 marked the end of a decade in the north. The final spring would be it as I’d say goodbye to so much of the fishing that had shaped me into the kind of angler I am today. There had never been a Tim Horton’s stop along the way for me. Never once was I in cell phone range of anything, never any distractions. No hydrographics for the chosen waters, no electronics, nothing from anyone online to learn from and very few people living around me willing to share. Every outing posed a little risk, be it a motor breakdown, cracked canoe, whatever it might be that could have left me stranded so I always triple checked and best prepared. There were far more days alone than with company, when and where fishing was all that was going on around me, and the rivers challenging to go further and further around it’s next bends. My last run up the North French, a days ride to Esko Falls, I set out for five days to camp alone, fish and spiritually say my goodbye. That trip I’d see thirteen moose, couple bears, catch many walleye, some pike, two sturgeon and on the way home hit the final fish out of the park to complete the Grand Slam, one nice speckled trout. A few days later with my dear friend Amelie we would say goodbye to Wavy Creek as well, and she would catch her first ever, beautiful searun speck.

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Come fall while settling into our new home near Ottawa my head was swimming with ideas. Can remember that having so many new options, so many species, so many lakes and places to access that I had a very tricky time sorting out where, when and what I wanted to fish. Those few months September into early December I tried fall bass at least a dozen times, a half dozen trips to Quinte for the big eyes, another four or five outings for inland walleye and largies, I even fished muskies eight days. When all that was done and the season was getting late, I decided then to try one more thing, steelheading. And so now I know it doesn’t fit the “spring” part of this fishing report but, the next two fall seasons especially, helped boost the new spring trib trout fishing to come. In 2010 and 11, springtime would be eaten up by work and a number of other fish species not of trout. As well, excluded from this entire report is any and all summer trout fishing and, springtime in Nipigon where there was enough trout to be had I’d need a separate report just to showcase that. So again, 2010 and 11 trout fishing would be in the fall until in years to come when steelheading would switch over to spring. I learned a lot though in these two years about tribbin’ and caught some great late season steel too.

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It was 2011, I’d had the new boat “The Bomber” for the full season before, and so I guess that’s likely why spring float tubing, steelheading and even trout fishing got put on the back burner for other things in 2010. But come this fresh spring, after having grown very comfortable in the Lund, learning quickly to better use my new to me and basic electronics the previous year, I wanted to try lakers more. Having done some amazing trips up north, fishing the greys a little through the ice and on Niagara, I love ‘em! If there was any way preferred for catching them too, it would have to be vertical jigging… so I set out to do that and learned, while catching some decent fish on the jig.

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Then the following year spring arrived super early. It was the first day of actual calendar spring, in March, like the 20th or 21st, and the ice on that day was just finishing up melting on an open laker lake near home. The sun was unseasonably powerful and for days on end, almost a week, the temps soared in March to the near or low 20’s. Each day was calm, the first several were bluebird skies, the surface temps warmed rapidly in the shallows. It was there, sight fishing and casting in gin clear waters not more than 5 to 9 feet deep that during four quick trips over a week and a bit, did myself and friends boat 56 lakers on light action rods. It was a window I have never had open to me like that again. A new lake that was so much fun, I’d return every year hoping to recapture that moment. Afterwards, I’d finally try spring steelheading for the first time, catching some nice ones. Then later on, when other home lakes opened and the fish were found deeper, it was back to refining that jigging game. Spring trout man, what a rush!

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For 2013 the pics below can speak for themselves. I really felt then like I was dialing in on spring rainbows and lakers and couldn’t do wrong. On every trip fish were being caught, confidence was soaring!

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The next two years are a bit of a blur. There was a little spring trout fishing done but not much? Have a pic of a spent hen while steelheading and a couple different days of average lakers. I do know that 2012 and 2013 saw the rise of spring trips out west for Nipigon as well as a couple of June fly-ins. Also returned to Moose Factory in 2014 for a funeral and family visit with the in-laws. In the spring of 2015 I picked up a second boat and spent time doing a wicked build project on that. The fishing from that little Alumacraft was geared more to some new crappie areas, while gar fishing was also in full swing. One interesting trip I was a part of was with Len and Luke. We didn’t catch many fish at all but, we overnighted on the Saugeen while float down a long length of it looking for steel.

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Luke bought me a 40th Birthday dinner at a Red Lobster in Kingston, NY. It was early May 2016 and we went down there to try our luck for striped bass. It was a real wet few days that didn’t pan out but it didn’t matter. Not only was it a cool time, all through April I had been on a tear pounding trout and nothing could dampen the spirits. First the NY State tribs for bows with the Lund towed down too for Lake O browns, then I’d get home to Canada for smashing lakers. All that was actually in a week, there were some other days spent playing inland lakers and float tubing specks as well. 2016 was probably the most unforgettable multi-trout beginning to a soft water season I had ever experienced. Got reeeeeeeeal high on trout fishing especially with the biggest trib bow I’d ever caught, and the juicy broonie too.

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A new job started in 2017 would eliminate April from fishing. No more spring steelhead, and because November and December were sacrificed too, no tribbin’ in the fall either. I sit on some floats, hooks, beads, flies and things at home which should probably just go up for sale now. What remains for spring fishing is May and June, so that includes inland lakes of all kinds. With Mikey that May, before the blackflies really hit up in the Highlands, I fished some amazing days for early season lakers and specks. Trips would follow along with other non-trout species to catch, but when finally finding the time for lakers it was well into summer. There’s a 2017 report called “Home Sizzlin’ Gar, Greys and Skis” that highlights a most incredible local window of laker fishing I have ever had. The 56 lake trout in four days some years preceding, was obliterated by 81 (26+26+29) lake trout during three separate mornings. It was so good I had Bren skip work, Leah skip school one day and we had two triple headers and four doubles, just hammering fish on the jig. It was too hot to fish after lunch and not good for the fish anyways, so that’s why we quit the hot bite early each time. Of those 81 lakers there had to be few dozen in the 5-10 pound range and one over 11. Just the highest of highs. You won’t see those summer fish below in this report though, you’ll have to find and flip over to that September 2017 report found in the archives.

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New boat came in that spring and so did the era of “Bambalam.” A beauty to behold, trading up in size and comfort from the Rebel 16 to the ProGuide 18 gave no great speed advantages but it sure offered a big dance floor and more capacity for camping cargo. Stevie Z and I decided to bring our wives up to Nipigon for the first time that year and I suppose during spring preparations my fishing was preoccupied with other thoughts and things. Didn’t do a lot of trouting truly, but the ice out slim pickings I did scavenge were quite enjoyed with some real dark beauties.

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Arrived home from work in the arctic at just the right trout time. A late start to spring, most inland lakes were swollen high and slow to warm after ice out. The Ottawa River was flooded, boats being asked to stay off, and I had no problems with that. Gar can tend to monopolize my spring and the reality of having all those extra days to consider other things was rather inviting. So that’s what I did! Spent all of May just fishing all kinds of trout and some crappies. Caught me an inland bow that made my year! Fifty plus inch muskies, a 100+ pound sailfish, 55 inch gar, didn’t matter in 2019 as much as that unicorn bow did. It was many years in the making for that fish, not like I put in eons of time or anything but, you know, maybe a day or two or three here and there over the span of a decade. So it was really rewarding to finally find that one I’d always been hoping for. The catch made me weak in the knees, Len hadn’t seen me like that in years, not since my biggest muskie ever in 2013. Evidence that just those certain tugs are still the best drugs…

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2020 troutin’ was minimal. Because 2019 had half the gar fishing and triple the trout fishing, could say I just got back into the gar fishing more. Found two nice local lakers before the “couples trip” got back on the road to take on giant spring specks and lakers which can be viewed if you want in the “Travel” section of the site here. Here’s those local heros though…

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Kinda of figured this report could go long. It’s close to thirty years of spring trout fishing from around whichever home waters I was living near, and this is honestly a Cole’s Notes version taken from so much time, effort, writing and photos. It’s no wonder I’m a fish addict, it’s what I know and do best, probably even more than my actual job which in my opinion I’m rather good at too. But last year I took on my greatest trout nemesis of all time. A fish that you’ve rarely seen in this spring report, just once actually, and a fish I have struggled to catch since going back to even those first teenage days speckled trout fishing in Quebec. Talking about the splake, and really it’s the big splake! And so this past spring I pulled my finger out of my ass to set out and try and figure them out. Well doods, something started to click! Finally some progress!!! I found a pattern that put a number of fish in the boat with a bigger than average size. And now I can’t wait to do it again! Splake are rather challenging and interesting, and a fish that just feels such a big reward to catch at this point and time in my life.

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Spring trout fishing, an often ethereal escape. Art. Addictive. Never mastered but always trying. A shining highlighted lifetime of it so far…

Thanks for reading,

Good luck out there this spring.
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