Triplogs / Triplog#49 / Day 2 / Days 3&4
Booth L
Day 3
It was a cool morning when we all got up, shortly before 8 am. Stepping out of my tent, I was greeted with a thinning morning mist over the lake. The sun was already up, doing a good job of burning off the morning mist. This made for an enjoyable breakfast and coffees by the morning fire, the view was gorgeous! It was just after 9am, when Swede gave into temptation, and paddled out solo onto the mirror like lake. It truly was a heaven inspired scene, and it was mid-week and we still had the lake all to ourselves.
Morning coffee as we watched the morning mist on Booth Lake
I soon followed suit, paddling solo as well, Bo remained onshore. Both Swede and I trolled around fishing for trout. Neither of us had any luck that day, nevertheless it was fun. Catching a fish just adds icing to the cake as far as I'm concerned. We both came in shortly after noon, just in time for lunch. It was a lazy relaxing afternoon of reading, and talking on the beach. I went for a swim, as the day just got better and better. By late afternoon, I went for a stroll through the forest utilizing the path that connected the neighbouring sites. It is a good layout, each campsite is a fair distance from each other, separated by dense forest and accessible by a single path at several minutes walk between each site. Thus the solitude factor remains intact. Another fine evening was to be had at our campsite, and I wasn't even dreaming!
"Swede" out upon the glass-like Booth Lake
Day 4
It was another gorgeous temperate September morning in Algonquin Park on this day. Sounds nice eh? I have to colour up my narrative a bit, as I did not take any photos this day! After breakfast Swede and I decided to walk the connecting trail, which really is an old logging road, to see how far we could get. We walked east, past all the connecting campsites, when it became apparent that there were no more campsites, the trail became overgrown with brush. We continued to follow the trail where it eventually joined another overgrown trail. At this point we also discovered the bedding down area of several mammals, either deer or more likely moose. I think Swede came to the conclusion that it was moose, as he examined the surrounding flora for signs of breakage. Swede was an experienced hunter and knew all the signs to look for, when tracking an animal. Signs, that I was just beginning to learn about. We explored the general area for about another 20 minutes, but finding nothing of further interest we started our long walk back to camp. Shortly after lunch, new visitors arrived! "Stainless" and "Phil" showed up paddling in an old red kevlar canoe. Stainless was from Toronto and Phil from Baltimore. They had teamed up together to join us in a 'gathering' that was planned for the upcoming weekend. Not long after our two friends showed up, "Racoon", another personal favourite Algonquin friend, showed up as well. Racoon was another friend I had met online on the Algonquin Adventures forum. As a matter of fact, Racoon and Bo were brothers. These two fellows both had decades of history traveling in Algonquin between each other. The two brothers are so unlike each other; Bo being the fisherman extraordinaire, a laid back quiet fellow, while Racoon, was always in motion, you could never get the fellow to stop, he always kept himself busy, and was just as much the fisherman his brother was, yet was much more energetic. I have tried to get the guy to stay put for more than a day, not an easy task!
With 6 of us on the campsite now, it was starting to feel more like a town than just another campsite. The campsite was perfect for a large number of occupants though, complete with a beach to walk on, and great for swimming too. Racoon brought his hammock which he hung in a tree and would sleep in. Both Phil & Stainless had their own tents, with loads of space to stake them out. Later in the afternoon, Racoon had asked how the fishing was. "No luck at all", was what I told Racoon. "Let's go", Racoon replied, and headed for my canoe. Racoon had travelled to Booth Lake in a kayak so we teamed up and headed out in my canoe, along with a 'butterfly net' that Swede had lent us, in case we caught a fish. Master Bo(I'll explain later why I call him "Master"), and the rest of the gang stayed behind, content to enjoy the sunshine at our beach campsite. We paddled up to the North part of Booth Lake, into the late afternoon sun. As soon as we came out of the narrows, I started to let my line out, as did Racoon. We followed the shoreline, turning into the sun, as we paddled west, when suddenly my fishing rod bent back sharply. "Hang on, think I got a snag". Racoon paused his paddling and waited for me to reel in. Something wasn't right. I was reeling in, and there was tension, but I was pulling something in. I told Racoon what was happening, he asked me if we were going backwards. What? Backwards! I stared at the shoreline for a few moments. Holy Cow! We were going backwards, something was dragging us backwards! "Yep", Racoon replied, "You got a biggie, reel him in". "Watch it though, he's gonna bolt when he gets close to the boat". It took a while, I had a lot of line out, and as the fish got close to the canoe, it suddenly put up a vigorous fight. "Reel him in, Reel him in!", Racoon shouted. The leader line broke the surface, then a big splash as a fish withered along just below the surface. "Get your net ready", Racoon commanded. At this point we realized our mistake. I have seen people troll before and in fact have done it with Racoon previously, we would sit facing each other, it makes landing the fish much easier. Racoon was positioned in the bow like a regular canoeist facing the bow of the craft, not towards the centre, where I needed him to be. Thus Racoon was helpless, he could not help me out, I'd have to land it myself. No problem, I finished reeling in the fish and up it came along side the canoe, I put down the net, and stared in disbelief. It wasn't a fish, it was a serpent! The thing was huge. It was a lake trout, but as I scooped the fish tail first, only half of it fit in the net. "Racoon, the fish is too big, it won't fit in the net", I yelled, the canoe tipped dangerously to one side as I tired to drag the serpent into the canoe. It was heavy, it was huge and it wasn't about to give up. Racoon glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide in surprise, saying it was the biggest trout he had ever seen, at least 22 possibly 24 inches or more in size. I gulped, I was in over my head here. What do I do? The fish took the decision out of my hand, by leaping out of the net, and diving back into the water.
"Don't let it get under the boat", Racoon shouted, "Pull UP, PULL UP!" Racoon instructed. I tried, It was a delicate balance, try and hold your rod out as far as you can while pulling and reeling in my line as fast as I could, without tipping the canoe. It was no good, the trout went under. "Crap!" Racoon commented, "Don't let the line touch the hull". Still not understanding, I continued to reel in, then the line snapped and the serpent of my dreams was gone. Yeah, "Crap!"
I felt pretty stupid, simply cause I had done so many things wrong. My inexperience was obvious and Racoon took the opportunity to teach me the how's and why's of trout fishing. Racoon explained, "Markus, fish only swim in one direction: forward!" Thus, I should've netted the fish head first, not tail-first! "Why can't I let a fish get under the canoe?", I asked. Racoon replied, "There are many imperfections in the hull, especially along the keel, where your canoe bottom has scraped, and bumped it's way over rocks and logs. The fishing line will catch along any of those nicks in the hull, and then the line will snap". Ahhhhh...comprehension sank in. With knowledge came understanding and with understanding came confidence. I was ready for my next encounter, except it never came. We continued to troll, turning around a few times, It was almost like an anti-climax; even if we had caught a fish, nothing would've compared to the monster I had almost caught, we gave up after an hour of nothing and then headed back to camp. There was six of us around the fire-pit that night, and for such a number of guys, you'd think it would've been a ruckus? Quite the opposite, it was a quiet affair, each of us enjoying the camaraderie and the unusual solitude that accompanied our group.
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