July 26, 2010

This was a good day.

We awoke to an alarm clock and rain, not a good start.  We had agreed to meet our friends up the road at nine, so we got up and got going a bit quicker than normal.  We arrived and lingered in their motorhome for a few minutes before starting on a hike.  No one was in a hurry to head out in the rain.  We hiked three miles up a rugged road to Landmark Gap Lake.  It was an interesting lake tucked between two mountains.  The outlet stream flowed down to the Tangle Lakes system so there were grayling disturbing the surface.  The weather wasn’t horrible, the rain actually stopped, and the surroundings were peaceful.  It was a good last adventure with our friends.

We said our goodbyes, not knowing when we will see them next.  Fairbanks is a long way from anywhere, and a long way from anywhere we might be going next.  It put a little melancholy into the middle of the day.  Kris and I reflected on the interesting people that we have met in our strange path as we drove back home.

The long hike took us well into the afternoon and gave us a late lunch.  We lingered a little longer, but I was on a mission.  I needed to kayak the Upper Tangle Lakes.  We put in at the boat launch which is at the outlet of a large pond of water.  We had to use the right side of the boat launch since the current along the left side would tend to send us down river through some rapids back to Round Tangle Lake, if we made it that far.  The large pond quickly necked down and we had to paddle through a little bit of current in this narrow pass that took us into a longer stretch of calm water.  A heavy wind was making some waves as we rounded a point into a larger stretch of water.  We paddled across and beached the boats to escape the waves for awhile.  The winds did seem to be calming down, so after a brief stop, I headed for my target, the inflow to the lake.

This was a dream location.  After the first pond, we were alone.  We did see a small motorboat, but we left behind the ‘highway’ and a few cabins and entered a world with no sign of civilization.  I had looked at the map of the lakes and pointed to a spot, the inflow, and said, “I bet this spot doesn’t get fished very much”.

The river was flowing fast and created a current a good distance out into the lake.  The strong wind was blowing across the current leaving me with a choice of either casting into the wind, or constantly drifting into the current.  But then I noticed a perfect spot to back the kayak up against the shore and have downwind casting into the current.

I started with a large spoon because I was looking for big fish, probably the biggest of the purely freshwater species up here, the lake trout.  I was surprised when on the fourth cast, I hooked up with another healthy grayling.  It was no surprise that it was there, only a surprise to see it hit such a large spoon.  Having a large grayling in the refrigerator already, I released this one.

I tried a few more lures including a large plug that Heidi had found floating in the other lake.  This plug was so big that when I retrieved it, the boat would turn and start heading toward the plug.  I threw this thing for awhile, but wasn’t too thrilled with the action or my position.  I picked up my ultralight rod for a couple casts of a spinner and quickly caught another healthy grayling.

The wind died down and I decided that the grayling were feeding in the immediate outlet and that the lake trout would be feeding further out, in deeper water.  I was able to position myself a little better with a lighter wind.  I began casting along the furthest riffles caused by the river.

I ended up with a large, ugly, metal minnow called a crippled herring.  It is so heavy that I can throw it a mile.  It also runs pretty deep.  It doesn’t have the most pronounced action, but I have caught fish on it before, in the saltwater.  I wasn’t sure if it was a reasonable choice here, it certainly has never come up as a recommended lure, but something about it seemed about right.  After just a few casts, I was a little surprised when I felt some additional weight.  I held up the tip of my rod and there was a bounce.  I had a fish.  I reeled it up and caught a glimpse of its distinctive lake trout appearance.  It caught a glimpse of me as well, and suddenly this light extra weight turned into a rod bending, kayak tipping monster.  It wasn’t big by lake trout standards, but it was a big fish by my standards.  It wasn’t hooked well on the single hook lure, so it quickly escaped.  But I now knew I had a lure that worked and that lake trout don’t necessarily fight hard right away.

A few more casts hooked me up again.  This time the fight came on a little quicker.  My medium weight Ugly Stick doubled over and I fought to adjust the drag a little looser as the fish headed for the bottom.  It was quite a handful in the kayak, probably the hardest fighting fish I have encountered in my boat.  I soon had it close to the boat and I reached back for the landing net.  Every move in the kayak is a challenge, but soon I netted a solid little lake trout of about 18” in length.  He was seriously wounded, so I decided that he would be my keeper; the limit is one.

The challenge wasn’t over.  I was holding a relatively heavy and lively fish in a net off the side of the kayak.  I didn’t really want to drop it in the boat with me, so I began paddling one handed toward a beach.  I beached.  Kris took some pictures.  I cleaned the fish.  Then we headed back.

The return trip was spectacular.  The sun was coming out.  The wind had died down.  The water was flat.  The light wind that remained pushed us along.  The current also pushed us along.  It was flat water, easy paddling, and a perfect setting.

As we passed through the last neck into the final pond, I cast the ultralight a couple times.  I was soon hooked up with another fantastic grayling.  I was also caught in the current running through the neck.  I grabbed the paddle and used it to keep the boat straight while the fish dragged along somewhere behind me.  I heard it splash and turned to see it jump one last time as it threw my hook.

It isn’t every day that I can pick a remote fishing location from a map and actually get there to find a fishing experience that exactly matches the expected behavior for the species of fish I am targeting.  Most locations don’t live up to expectation because if it’s good and accessible, it has been fished to the point of reducing anyone’s chances for success.  Digging into the tackle box and picking a winner out of my limited collection of large lures, a choice I doubt that most fishermen would have made, added to the joy of the experience. 

And my joy is somehow always increased when targeting big game.  While I only caught a tiny fish by lake trout standards, the fierceness of its battle made me quite glad I hadn’t hooked a big one.  I am not sure I would have been prepared to land a bigger fish from the kayak.  And now we have a lovely lake trout meal waiting for us in the refrigerator.  If it turns out that lake trout aren’t as good as reported, then it is only one meal.