hi Tom,

Your report was so good and made for some exhilarating reading that I have
saved it!!! It will nicely add to my notes.

Hope you are well.

Best Regards
Dan's Pierre

Thomas Nordquist wrote in message
...
Part 5 - The Lake, Lots of Trout, and The Biggest
Trout of All

Saturday, the 7th of August arrived and several of the guys decided to
spend an evening at Blassajaure, the lake where Hans had been so
successful in catching 14-inch browns the past several days. We
strapped our packs to our backs, and started up the ridge behind the
cabin. Roger, Hans, Myron, Vaughan, Jerome and myself. There would be
three float tubes for us to share. The hike was rough on me, and I
apologize to the others for being so out of shape, and thank them for
waiting on me so many times along the way. I thought we'd never run
out of ridges to climb on our way over the top. Finally there was the
lake down below us, and quite beautiful. We crossed one large peat bog
on our way down, and the cloudberries were getting ripe on the peat
mounds, turning from red to yellow, and we stopped now and then to
enjoy their unique flavor. The lake was awesome! On the map it looked
like a large lake with an island at one end, however, on this day it
was more like two lakes connected by a narrow channel.

The belly-boats were inflated, and the first set of fly casters
floated out to catch the pretty 14-inch browns that live there, each
hoping to land an elusive Arctic Char. I hiked to the second half of
the lake, and I think it's more beautiful than the first. I was
casting from the shore with some success when Roger floated through
the channel and started catching nice trout in the middle of the lake
in front of me. I watched him catch six in a row, and then another six
or so. He was fishing a char nymph called a Delilah, using a quick
figure eight retrieve. The combination was amazing. He floated over to
where I was standing, numerous 14 and 15-inch trout hanging on one
side of his float tube and destined to be our dinner that night. I
took over the tube, and Roger took the fish to the other part of the
lake. It wasn't long before I, too, started catching fish. I had one
on that, when seeing the tube, rolled up my line, much like a Coho
Salmon will do. It had the leader so tangled in it's teeth and gills
that I had to keep it, though we really didn't need more fish for
dinner.

I floated through the channel and back to shore. Roger was already
starting to get the trout ready for cooking. Hans hiked back to the
cabin with trout to give to the guys that stayed behind, and to fetch
tin foil to bring back. We had soup, fried fish eggs, wonderful brown
trout, mashed potatoes, and strong Swedish coffee. Jerome took a hike
up the mountain behind us, as did Roger later that evening. Roger
called Fred on his cell phone for fun, and Fred informed him that a
storm was supposed to hit us early in the morning. Our intension was
to stay the night at the lake, but with news of a storm approaching,
we decided to hike back to camp in somewhat dark conditions. Myron led
the way, and we ended up right behind the cabin. Thank you Riverman!

Sunday was my day of rest. The storm never developed, the day was warm
and sunny, and I hurt all over more than anyplace else! One group took
the boat back down-stream, Bob hiked up to the lake, and Jerome and
Hans decided to hike past the lake over to Hurasjakka, the other
stream in the area. They wanted to camp there over night. Don and I
stayed at the cabin and took it easy.

At 6:00pm I hiked back over the river, using Osmo's crossing, and
walked upstream to the big pool. The sandbar was now a sandbar again,
the water level falling. I took a bath in the cold water behind the
sandbar, and a little later swam out into the big pool for some
distance before coming back to shore to dry off in the sun. I figured
I must have scared all the trout out of the big pool, so I walked back
downstream a ways, and in a nice, deep pocket of water caught a 12"
brown and a few minutes later one that measured 15 1/2'". I crossed
the river again and headed for home. I could see smoke rising from the
cabin from some distance, and staying in the cool of the birch woods
before crossing the moor, and found myself back at the cabin. Don was
burning trash.

Bob was back from the lake, and although he hadn't caught trout from
shore there, he really enjoyed its beauty. The walky-talkie squawked,
"Riverman to Kevin, come in!" as everyone we now called became
"Kevin". I answered his call and Myron said that their group was
downstream just above the rapids, and that Roger had just caught a
24-inch brown weighing around four pounds. That would end up as being
the largest fish caught on this clave.

Shortly after that call, another came in. It was Hans and Jerome on
there way back from the other stream. Through some miscommunication
they had ended up with an entire kitchen, but very little food.
Staying the night was out of the question, so they were trudging home.
They requested a whistle now and then to guide them in, and Don did an
excellent job directing them home.

That night was spent enjoying a nice dinner in the cabin, and I opened
a cold bottle of South African Chardonnay that had been in our
homemade cooler in the bog. The conversation turned lively that
evening, and eventually we all turned in for the night.

Monday arrived, and Osmo, Don, Bob and I decided to take the boat
downstream, where the big ol' lum-lunkers lurk. We didn't catch any,
however, but Bob did boat a nice 14" brown. I took the duty of rowing
us back upstream. We were all rather tired, and although we loved
Lapland and Sweden, we were eager to get ourselves back to the US.
That evening was spent getting our gear ready for the trip back home
the following day.

Tuesday arrived, and we all said our good-byes. Myron and Vaughan
would stay for another couple days, and we arranged to have the
helicopter pilot bring them in some beer. Roger drove Bob and Don and
myself back to Skelleftea and to our hotel. We waved goodbye to the
best Clavemeister in all of Sweden, and headed for long showers in our
rooms before a huge meal of Arctic Char and mass quantities of single
malt, beer, and wine. The bill, with tip, ended up being around
$190.00 for the three of us, but worth it.

I want to thank Roger, Don, Bob, Fred, Erik, Jerome, Hans, Osmo,
Jarmo, Myron, Vaughan, and of course Kevin, wherever he may be, for a
trip I will never forget!

Tight lines, guys!

Tom - somewhere in the Colorado Rockies