"5:15 in the morning! Dave sure does like to start early," I had thought to myself after reading my friend's email about meeting on one of our favorite rivers for Southern Ontario's Opening Day.
Dave Moore and I have been long time friends, sharing some great fishing trips together since we were both teenagers. Up until about 4 years ago, we had never missed an Opening Day together. We decided this year that it was high time we reinstated our tradition and that neither rain, snow or women would stop us from our spring piscatorial pursuits. Although we both share the same passion for fishing, Dave has a greater capacity than I do for getting up in the morning, and many a time in the past he has banged on my door at the agreed to time, only to find me still rubbing my eyes and trying to decide on whether the fish will care if I have my much needed shower.
A number of jurisdictions have set the last Saturday of April as the Opening Day of the trout season. In my area, you can fish the Great Lakes themselves and the mouths of their tributaries all year round, but above the mouths, you must wait until the last weekend of the month in most places before fishing with the intent to catch trout. I woke up early on Saturday and watched the sun come up to a cloudless sky, wondering what effects such a bright day was going to have on the fishing.
Partly because we live further apart now, and partly because Dave has probably learned from experience about my sleep patterns, we agreed to meet at the river. When I arrived, my friend had already been fishing for a couple of hours and had landed several small rainbows - "babies" he had called them. The water was quite clear and I was concerned about the brightness of the day and the fact that there were so many cars parked along the road at the bridge! That is the other problem with opening days - not only do you get the anglers who have suffered from fishingitis for months, you also find the "opening day only anglers" - the ones that you only see once a year and who keep everything they catch.
We fished various parts of the river, casting hellgrammites, wooly buggers, stone flies and roe flies without a great deal of success. As the day progressed, the sun got brighter and combined with the numbers of people tramping around on the bank and in the water with their brand new waders on, it was obvious that any fish of a decent size had definitely taken to cover. After about two hours of fishing, I had landed about 4 6" rainbows and a couple of really pretty but small 9" brookies. It seemed as if it was going to be a disappointing day and that all the bigger fish had disappeared.
Later in the afternoon, we headed downstream towards a large hole that usually had several people fishing. The fact that there was no one there seemed ominous, on the other hand, this particular hole is extremely difficult to fish. The river is about 8 feet wide, and across the width of it is the mother of all log jams. For a good 5 feet downstream, there are logs, branches and tree stumps covering the whole area. The only way to pull anything out of there with a hope for success is to use a rod with some good backbone and at least 8' long. Sometimes, in order to catch fish, you just have to do what you gotta do! Many of the fly anglers might scowl, but out came the worms and the long spinning rods.
Within a matter of minutes, both Dave and I had received some very gentle taps at our lines. It seemed as if the whole stream had been taken over by smaller fish. However, a few moments longer revealed that those small taps were caused by some pretty huge brutes - as Dave hooked into a 'bow weighing at least 10 pounds!
Not only do you have to deal with the log jam itself, but about 3 feet in front of the wooden mass lies a forked submerged tree trunk. If the fish decides to run up along the wrong bank, it takes your line under the trunk. Hope is far away. Dave had about 1/2 second to make a decision on how he was going to play that fish as the sound of his singing reel filled the air. Rainbows are powerful fish, and as he realized what exactly he was into, I saw the look on Dave's face that his wife gets to see once a week if the lights are turned on.
We both watched as the fish ran upstream, pulling line off Dave's reel. Dave thought he was pretty safe as the fish had decided to go up and over the tree trunk on the other side, but alas, it changed its mind suddenly, and swiftly it tore back downstream, underneath the trunk on this side as it headed back towards the cover of the biggest logjam for forty miles around. The heartbreaking sound of 'ping' could be heard as the line broke and a sigh from Dave went quite well with that look on his face.
A few minutes later, Dave had his second chance. A little more prepared, Dave was able to manoeuvre the fish to play it out in the wider, less obstructed pool above that cursed tree trunk. It still wasn't easy however as the fish made several heart stopping runs with the rod bent over in what seemed like an unnatural arc. A few big splashes were made as the shiny silver fish cleared the water with powerful jumps until Dave finally brought the fish to the side, admired it for a few moments and released it back into the clear water.
I had my chances as well, and with similar experiences to Dave's, also felt the rush of excitement as a few large fish were hooked, bending my Sage rod. We wished we had brought along a float tube and a saw so we could cut that darn tree trunk out of the way. It did however, make for an interesting day and it ended up being a lot of fun. Some of the fish were tremendously huge! This is where they had all gone to seek cover from the sunshine and the tramping waders.
We spent several hours at the hole, hooking brute after brute, landing and releasing some, and even deciding to keep a couple for the dinner table. Personally, I am not a Catch & Release only angler and I quite enjoy selectively harvesting a nice fish or two for the dinner table. The two pounder and the three pounder, both beautiful looking 'bows were brought home, cleaned and savored after being baked with butter and lemon juice.
All in all, it was a great Opening Day! Thanks Dave... I look forward to many more together.
Last Week:
The Muncher is a favorite of Ian James for carp, smallies, more. 
Thoughts of a Chicken Rancher. Doc tells it like it is.