Sometimes a whim is better than a well-laid plan. We had planned to fish the Magalloway River, but we were skeptical about the number of fishermen, having seen so many on the Androscoggin yesterday. We figured that river would be crazy with fishermen this morning, but the weather was just bad enough that maybe some would not venture out so early.
But we decided to stop at the dam anyway. We were encouraged when we didn’t see any cars parked there, but as it turns out a couple of guys walked there. One of them had the premier spot, but we decided to give it a shot at a couple of the lesser places to cast from.
I got there a little before Tony, and I took a lower position and motioned Tony to one of the outlets as he approached.
On his first cast I could see that he was into a fish–a little smallmouth. That was quickly followed by a nice perch.
A few minutes later, as the rain picked up in intensity, I watched as his rod doubled over and then started throbbing almost violently.
I was sure at that point that it was brook trout, and by the bend in his six-weight rod, I knew that it was a good fish. After a few minutes, Tony called down to me that it was in fact a brookie.
Then I saw its head come out of the water and saw the distance between its dorsal fin and tail, and I knew I needed to get up there. Tony always fishes with barbless hooks, and that can come back to bite you when dealing with brook trout because of their head-shaking tactic.
Even the other fishermen knew that this was something special because they stopped fishing and even offered their assistance, which included a measuring tape.
Finally Tony managed to get it to the net. It was a gorgeous 17-1/2” brookie. Other than our Labrador trip, this fish rated the biggest on his all-time list of brook trout.
With a little gentle handling and a chance to recover, the trout was back where he belonged, in the river.
Tony had taken all the fish on this trip thus far, on a fly he tied himself several years ago, a small, dark streamer.
So I headed back down to my spot and immediately tied on the same fly. A nice brown trout found it to his liking on my first cast.
The rain was coming down even harder now. It was the kind of day that if you were inside, you probably would not go out, but once you were out, what the heck; what’s getting a little more wet and cold? It certainly was putting our rain gear to the test.
We caught several more fish, including a couple of nice bass, but as the rain let up, so did the fishing.
When the rain finally stopped, you would not have known that there was a fish in the river.
We then turned our attention to fishing with my friend Brian that evening. Brian is almost a legend in these parts. He grew up north of the Notches, and knows the woods, lakes, and rivers of this area of N.H. and Maine.
He is also a guide and specializes in moose, both for hunting and photography. He has taken photos of moose that ended up in many magazines.
Brian met us at Lake Umbagog at about 5:30 PM, and we jumped into his 21’ 250 HP boat and were ready for action.
I must admit that I never went 60 MPH on freshwater before, but that’s what we were doing in what seemed like seconds.
We covered the 10+ miles to our spot in about 10 minutes. I trip that with my 40 HP motor, would have taken me twice that if I dared to go full throttle, and I wouldn’t do that.
We got some nice photos of a mated pair of eagles.
Despite Brian’s intimate knowledge of the lake, the fishing was tough. We managed only a few decent bass (all caught by Brian), a few respectable pickerel, and perch, and that was that. So even with an expert and the best equipment, sometimes the fish win.