May 13: Getting a jump start on the season

Every time I drive up South Arm Road on the way to Lakewood Camps, I
anticipate the water level of Lower Lake Richardson. I see the lake
through the trees as I approach, but I can't really tell its level
until I get to the boat ramp. On the 13th day of May, two days before
Lakewood Camps opened, I made that last bend in the road, saw the lake
through the trees, and then........ hurray! The lake was full. And,
I mean *full*. There should be plenty of water flowing from Middle
Dam into the Rapid River.

I met Whit at the Lakewood boat dock. Good to see him. I missed the
fly fishing show in Marlborough this year, so I didn't get to see Whit
and his lovely wife Maureen and have dinner with them. After loading
the bike, cooler, fly tying bag, rod bags, reel bag, wader bag, snack
bag, booze/wine box, and finally my personal luggage, I was huffing
and puffing while Whit just smiled at me. He did most of the work,
but I was the one out of breath. It ain't fair to grow old.

I always enjoy the trip from South Arm dock to Lakewood, regardless of
how choppy and rough the lake is. It's a quick journey of only 15
minutes if the lake isn't too rough. On this day it had some pretty
good whitecaps, but we were going with the wind, and Whit had the boat
only at half throttle so we could talk. He filled me in on the winter
months and what damage was done to the camps and docks, while I spoke
of my trip to Tierra del Fuego and how Jo was doing.

Maureen was waiting for us at the dock, as usual, and after hugs we
unloaded the boat and I moved into French, a small cabin in the middle
of the block of cabins. Quick to change into full fishing regalia, I
put my 5w together, put on the old faithful G3s (ofg3), donned my
vest and other accoutriments that make me *look* like a genuine fly
fisherman, hopped on the bike and was off to the dam.

The flow was 1600 CFS. That's a bit high, but not too high to fish
most of the river. I have a custom of starting out the season with
the same fly that I ended with the previous September. This year it
was a home-tie like a PT, but very small, a size 22. After ten casts
with no hits, I switched to a Hare's Ear. Over the years, I have
found that in the early season a light colored nymph is good way to
fool these beautiful brook trout and landlocks.

A few casts brought a small salmon to hand. A little later a small
brookie fell for the HE. Then another small salmon, before I called
it quits and headed for the camps. It was very cold and although I
was dressed with three layers top and bottom, the chill of the water
got to me. A fire in the Ashley stove brought the cold to its knees
and warmth flooded the small camp. In fact, the warmth overwhelmed
the camp. I opened the door and left it that way when I went to
dinner.

One of the best things about Lakewood Camps is its meals. Donna the
chef had fixed a turkey and spinach crepe. Uh, spinach? Cooked?
Uhuh! In a salad, yeah, but I do not like the slimy stuff cooked.
Well, at least not until I tasted Donna's crepe. Very delicious.
With a white wine of undetermined/unknown pedigree, a bowl of tomato
bisque, a wonderful green salad with *uncooked* spinach, I enjoyed the
meal as the only one in camp.

Fishing for the next two days was sort of iffy. I went downstream,
got a boat and fished the currents. My biggest problem with spring
fishing on the Rapid is that I do not know how to properly fish a
streamer. Peter Charles does, as do a couple of old friends, but I
have never had the knack for it. I tried anyway, tossing some Carrie
Stevens 10x long #2s - Gray Ghost, Rapid River, Green Ghost. Nothing.
There was a guy in a boat fishing First Current, tossing big streamers
into the PIR and taking some very nice (18+ inch) salmon. He confided
to me that he was using a Gray Ghost. Go figure.

Parked the boat on the island and wade fished second current with very
small, soft hackle Pts. Picked up a couple more small salmon, and a
14 inch brookie. Nothing to write home about.

I returned home on Saturday after three days of having the camp and
most of the river by myself. I would return in a week for four weeks
of fishing the Rapid. In the mean time, I will dream of the big
brookies I did not catch.

May 25: My return to the Rapid

Traffic heading north on Memorial Day was light. But those poor souls
heading south had their hands full. I passed the usual speed traps
in Massachusetts near the 495/95 interchange, and mile marker 14 on
the Maine Turnpike. Fortunately they were both on the south bound
side.

Whit was waiting for me at the South Arm dock. I left all my fishing
stuff in my cabin when I was last there, so suiting up was quick, and
before too long I was fishing at the dam. I only had about an hour to
fish, but if I had 2 or 3 or 4 hours, I am sure the results would have
been the same - nothing. But, I was fishing. It was cold and rainy,
but I was at least fishing my beloved Rapid.

Long story short: Most of the week was spent fishing the dam. The
sucker spawn was on at the Second Current, and the usual yokels were
jam packed, almost shoulder to shoulder. In an area of the river that
would usually allow two men to flyfish, there were now twelve, with a
waiting list of four. Bull****! Plain and simple: Bull****! They
were catching big brookies and salmon, but they were catching the same
fish over and over. There is little skill in catching these fish
during the spawn. You can fish an egg pattern, a nymph, or a streamer
and you will catch fish. Just chuck about anything upstream and you
will have a big fish to fight. I left. Parked the boat at the PIR
dock and fished the dam for the rest of the week.

Someone, a guide I think, brought a drift boat to PIR for Aldro French
(owner of Forest Lodge below Lower Dam on the Rapid). Aldro runs a
guide service on the river. He was using the boat to allow wounded
veterans a stable platform to fish the river. Someone took offense to
the use of the drift boat. I was told that they angered lots of the
folks fishing the currents. Some obnoxious jerk pulled the plugs on
the boat after it was tied up at a small dock next to Lakewood's dock,
and sank it in about four or five feet of water. We don't need that
kind of fly fisher on the Rapid or any other river.

Fishing at the dam the rest of the week was not very good. The water
was very cold (about 51 degrees) and the big fish had not yet come up
river. It was very rainy and cold the entire week, so the water
temperature remained low. The flow stayed at 1300 most of the week.
I took my fair share of salmon and brookies, but the really big ones
had yet to come up-river.

There were not many people in camp due to the current economical
conditions. Lots of folks worrying about jobs and such. Whit and
Maureen said their business was off about 40%. Hopefully it will pick
up. I intend to spend three more weeks here, and may even come back
in July. Because there is so much water and it is so very cold, the
river will probably fish well into mid-July. So much for global
warming in the north of Maine.

May 31 - Back with Joanne and Jenny

The lake is still full. Dam running at 500 cfs -yahooooo.

I went home on Saturday and picked up Joanne and Jenny the pup. We
arrived Sunday at the Lakewood dock at South Arm in the middle of a
very bad rain and hail storm with lots of lightning. Whit was at the
dock when we arrived. We waited in the shed for the storm to break.
It took about 15 minutes. I've seen lots of storms on Lower Lake
Richardson, but none as violent as this one with high winds, pelting
rain and hail, and lightning claps all around us.

We arrived safely at Lakewood and took up residence in one of the
bigger cabins, the same one I will be in for the next three weeks. A
quick fire in the stove warmed up the living area and I sat down to
tie some flies. Soft hackle pheasant tails, with a red glass bead in
front. No fishing on this day because we arrived late. Just being
here in a warm cabin with my wife and dog is more than enough
satisfaction. The fish can wait. I'll get ‘em tomorrow.

And I did.

Friends from Maryland were in camp. Brett and I went downstream and
fished the currents using the boat, while the ladies took Jenny for a
walk. It's tough fishing two in a boat when you are both fishing the
same seam. Somehow we synchronized our casting and managed to get
some 18 inch salmon and a couple of 12-16 inch brook trout. When
Harry the dam keeper opened the spillway to 1000 cfs, our anchor
slipped. Rather than struggle against the current and drop anchor
again, we went to the island. Brett fished First Current, picking up
three more salmon, while I fished the Wing Dam Aquarium.

The Aquarium is a small pocket of slow moving water about four feet
deep and as clear as glass. In it are two, sometimes three, big brook
trout of 20+ inches each. The trick to hooking up one is to let a
very small nymph (size 18-24) fall over the rocks with the current
into the Aquarium. It is the only way you will hitch up to one of
these wise old fellows. I had a black starling soft hackle fly with a
brown thread body and some green flash in it, a size 22, and I am sure
these fish have never seen this fly before. Ever careful to not spook
them, I stood back from the Aquarium and dropped the fly into the
small current emptying into the pool. I did not see it go over the
edge, but I did see my leader move. I set the hook and all hell broke
lose. The brookie, at least 20 inches and fat as a pig, took off
running into the deep water of the Wing Dam Pool. He must have made a
50 foot run and turned and came back faster than I could strip my
line. I managed to get him on the reel again only to lose him. When
examining my size 22 fly, I saw the hook was almost straight. The
beautiful fish had turned my hook into a spear, albeit a small one,
but nonetheless a spear.

One thing I forgot to mention about the Aquarium: you only get one
chance at a fish. Over the many years I have fished the Rapid, I
usually take one big brookie out of this pool. I have never had a
double, and no longer try for one. So, I put on one of Harry Mason's
Killer Caddis, size 16. This fly catches fish without a hatch on.
There was a brookie or two rising about 25 feet from Wing Dam and on
my first cast with this miraculous fly, hooked up on a 12 inch
brookie. Three or four casts later and I took a crazy
swim-all-over-the pool 16 inch brookie. After releasing it, I noticed
my hands were shaking, as were my knees, and I was very light headed.
It took me a second to realize I was hypoglycemic. I sat on a rock
and searched for my sugar drink that I always carry with me when
fishing. Part of hypoclycemia is confusion. I was very confued and
on the edge of panic. I searched the wader pockets, my vest, back to
the waders, my wading jacket, my vest again and could not find it. I
finally emptied the pockets in my G3s, dropping a new leader, a couple
of strike indicators and my watch into the river before I realized I
was holding a tube of Betty Crocker cake icing - just about pure
sugar. Ripping open the package I sucked all the icing out of the
tube - horrible tasting crap, but it worked. I felt better, but very
weak. I was glad I had Brett with me. He rowed the boat back to the
dock and we headed back to camp. I made it as far as the junction of
the Carry Road and the PIR road where I had parked my bike. I
couldn't go any farther. Brett hurried back to camp, about a mile,
and Whit and Joanne came and got me in the pickup. By the time they
arrived I felt a lot better and was capable of making it back myself,
but the ride in the pickup was certainly a luxury.

I spent the rest of the week fishing the dam. It was producing some
nice catches on both nymphs and dry flies. The water flow stayed at
900 for the rest of the week, so the fish settled into their familiar
feeding lanes. All of the fish that Brett and I caught at the dam
were free of any lip sores. We caught our fair share until Friday.

Friday morning (this morning) was very good at the dam. I arrived
about 8:30 and Brett was already ensconced on his favorite rock. I
took up station on the rocks below one of the three runways and on my
second cast caught a very nice salmon of 16 inches. Jumped all over
the place at least five times. In the next two hours I landed about 6
nice salmon and two fair size brookies. I lost four or five large
salmon and one brookie because they straightened out the size 22 hook
I was using. That fly is one helluva good lure, if only it was tied
on a stronger hook. About 10:30 I decided to move to my favorite
rock, Flat Top, which sits almost in the middle of the dam pool.

Bad decision. I know I can wade out to this spot at 1000 cfs if I am
careful. The flow was only 900, so I gave it a go. As I stepped
lightly rock to rock, the water got deeper and was licking at the top
of my G3s. I made the last step to a large flat rock which sits about
waist high in the river. This would allow me to step up onto Flat
Top and the best possible place to fish the dam pool. As I stood on
the flat rock I turned to watch Brett land a 17 inch brook trout. I
lost my balance and fell backwards into water that was about 6 feet
deep (not unlike my very wet fall at the Blue Rock Hole on Penns,
Jeff!). I held onto the Winston and several sputters and gasps later
I was in water shallow enough to wade ashore. I know I weighed 300
pounds when I finally got out of the water. And I was cold. Air temp
was in the fifties with a fair breeze, and the water temp was 52. One
thing, Jeffie: I did not lose a fly box, and if I did, I am sure Bret
would have retrieved it! d;o)

Joanne was none too happy with me and threw some logs on the fire to
warm up the cabin. I got out of the G3s and turned them inside out
(not a happy sight). As I did so a pale green toxic fog, the
byproduct of the G3s encasing this old man's body for more than 470
days, floated down-wind, killing black flies and mosquitos as it made
its way into the woods. I opened the *water proof* fly boxes to dry
by the fire, and changed into warm clothes. Joanne made some coffee,
and I sat by the stove to warm myself and finish this report.

We are headed home in the morning. Later this afternoon, if the G3s
dry, I will go to the Wing Dam and see if I can find my watch.

I'll be back on Monday morning (June 8) with a friend and his son.

Dave