Fishing Roland Lake

Another beautiful morning!  We breakfasted, and checked the weather - yes, rain expected today, so we had best prepare camp for wind and rain.  We had a variety of options including lightweight tarps, and a nice sized bug shelter that would do nicely for a hang-out location as long as it was set up strong and protected from the wind.  Fortunately we had a whole area at the back of our campsite that was perfect: blocked from the wind on 3 sides, and a variety of trees to tie off for support.  We set up another tarp to hang over most of our camp gear and food, and everything else was stashed in our tents.

Jeff came out from his tent area with something he had brought, but he had no idea what it was.  He explained that one of us had given it to him to bring along.  We all shook are heads, both to confirm that we hadn't, and to laugh at Jeff's folly!  We unfurled the large covering and after a few minutes realized it was a tent rainfly, likely from one of Jeff's tents at home.  We laughed while Jeff explained it away by blaming his kids for using his gear and not putting it back properly.  OK maybe, but we still razzed Jeff for not checking his gear beforehand!  But hey, the rainfly made a great cover for our stash of firewood, so there ya go.

With camp secure and cleaned up, we headed out together for the NW part of Argo, and once again into the narrows of the "Soybean" River.  The river flows into Roland Lake, but the passage requires a short portage.  Jeff and I decided not to drop a line in the Siobhan and instead head straight to the portage, after which we'd break out the rods on Roland.  The other two canoes were taking their time fishing along the way.  We floated closer and closer to the dense covering of the outflow, and at the very end we spotted a take-out spot about 20 feet to the left.  Pulling up and walking the path confirmed that yes, this was the short portage into Roland (but not the only one, as we would learn!).  The portage was so short (10 rods?) that Jeff and I decided to haul the canoe full of our gear up and over the portage in one trip.  The path was a bit steep up and down, but it didn't take us long at all.  Then, we plopped the canoe in the water, climbed in, and started fishing.

We had OK luck with the bass that morning, enough to keep us occupied and happy.  But as we worked the bank structure with our surface lures, we noticed a loon pop up along the bank ahead of us.  Crap - we knew the loon was also fishing, and likely scaring all the bass into hiding.  So, Jeff and I decided to paddle out around the pesky loon, then back towards shore to continue. This was fine for awhile, until - Crap! - another loon was messing with our "virgin territory" Jeff's name for the waters we hadn't fished yet). We were about to perform the same maneuver around this loon until we saw a peculiar thing - the loon was bobbing its head up and down on the surface of the water.  Upon closer inspection we could see that it was playing with a big bass.  We couldn't tell if the bass was dead, or the loon was trying to tire it out.  Well, this was just too interesting to ignore, so I broke out my video camera and started filming.  For the next 5 minutes I filmed while Jeff maneuvered the canoe as close as the loon would let us.  The loon continued to play with that fish, until....well, the video segment tells the story of what happened next!  What an incredible piece of footage!  (Later that evening, the bandits would gather around my camera 2x3 inch view finder to watch the replay!)

After a couple hours of fishing, we decided to head back towards the portage area because we hadn't seen the other canoes on the lake yet, and it might be time to consider lunch.  The whole ride back we were surprised that they hadn't come through yet.  We finally found them all, but at a different portage spot than the one that Jeff and I used. They had uncovered a longer portage than ours.  Oh well.  As long as they were there, and there was a bit of an opening to share, it was a good time to break out lunch.

After that, we all hit the lake and started fishing the banks in the same area.  After a few minutes I was casting with the others, and my line went up and over a tree branch about 15 feet up, the lure still landing in the water.  As soon as the lure hit - bang! - fish on, and a nice size one to boot!  With my line draped over the tree branch I wasn't quite sure what to do.  So, what the heck, I started reeling it in - or "up" as the case may be.  Jeff canoed me closer until the fish was hanging right about eye level with me.  No need for a net to land this baby!  After removing the fish, I was still faced with the possibility of snagging my lure on the branch above, and tugging on the branch was not going to bring it down.  To avoid snagging the branch, a smart man would just remove the lure from the leader/swivel, reel the remaining line up and over the branch, reattach the lure, and continue on fishing.  Let's just say this is exactly what I did, and move on with the story. Ahem..

It didn't take us long to all spread out across the lake, Jeff and I choosing to fish the shallows of the big island in the middle of the lake.  Even though it had threatened rain all day, it finally began lightly raining consistently by this time.  We held off donning raingear as long as possible because it gets damn uncomfortable canoeing/fishing in raingear. But we could no longer avoid it.

The fish could not be found along the island, so we sought out the northern bank of the lake where information from Zup noted the greatest chance of good fishing.  We headed to the far opposite end from the portage location and immediately had good luck, working our way back closer towards where we would eventually leave the lake.  We couldn't see Chuck and Joe, but we could see Gary working the northern bank farther down.  After a couple hours we arrived together, and Gary regaled us with a story of a big fish that had taken his lure and tangled the line in some fallen branches.  Gary was convinced it was a biggie, so he was almost ready to climb out and wade through the brush to rescue his line and capture the fish.  Alas, his line broke and that was the end of that idea.

Jeff and I left Gary to fish a big longer, then headed across to a campsite on an island to get out of the canoe, strip off our raingear and outer layers, stretch our backs and rest our butts.  The rain had stopped, the winds were calm (non-existent!), and the temps were mild but muggy.  It felt good to strip down and walk around.  We assumed Chuck and Joe had gone back through the portage for home, so we decided to wait for Gary to finish fishing and paddle by.  Plus, we could help Gary with his canoe across the portage.  Jeff and I were done fishing for the day, and it would be a nice calm paddle back to camp.

The portage was quick, and the Siobhan was like glass.  No, it WAS glass.  I've seen calm winds and water before, but this was different.  A heavy haze covered the nearby banks, the water reflecting the vegetation and trees on both sides and ahead of us.  It was the same when we reached Argo - pure glass.  This was a big change from yesterday when we were paddling against a heavy headwind.  Today we could glide through the water with ease, our canoes and paddles the only ripple on the water.  It was a quintessential moment for me, a memory I'll not soon forget.  I used the opportunity to film alongside Gary as he quietly paddled by, his reflection on the water a perfect mirror image, the peace broken only by the crack of a whip from the stern of my vessel: "OK Kevin, you can paddle now."  My, but SOMEONE was HUNGRY!

We quickly paddled across the lake to camp, where the other canoe had already landed.  With the threat of rain very real now, we set up shop in the bug shelter, with Chuck and Jeff cleaning fish, and Joe acting as cabana boy, dolling out slurps of beer and shots of booze.  With fish guts in hand, Jeff headed off to the woods to dispose of the carcasses.  Upon return he told us how the pesky new forest growth had thrown the fish guts back in his face as he tried to toss the remains into the shrubbery and small trees.  "Fish Face" was the apt nickname given Jeff that night.

We cooked, cleaned, and retired to the cozy confines of the shelter as the rain became steady.  There was very little wind, and we were quite pleased that we had prepared the camp earlier in the day for this eventuality.

At about 11:30 I headed to bed, and was met with a horrible surprise - Gary's tent was leaking water on to our sleeping bags, pads, and gear.  Ah!  How could this happen??  His tent was only about 5 years old, and had been trail tested all over the U.S.  The coating on the rainfly was flaking a little, and this must have been the cause.  When Gary arrived we soaked up the puddles that had formed on (and in!) our sleeping bags, then set out to figure out what we were going to do.  Hey, wait, don't we have a spare rainfly covering our firewood?  Gary and I jumped into action, moving the wood to a spot underneath the supply tarp, then quickly rigged Jeff's spare rainfly over our tent.  Fortunately we had set up the tent in an area surrounded by 3-4 nearby trees.  We stretched and sloped the rainfly to hover above us, and it worked beautifully.  No more rain, no more leak.  However, I was really worried that I'd be climbing into a wet, cold sleeping bag, and since my bag is down (not synthetic), that stuff never dries.  I was quite surprised that I slept warm and comfortable, and my bag never really retained any water.  Whew!  That could have been a bad deal all around. 

Gary of course was majorly bummed that a major item of his gear had failed.  For an avid outdoorsman, you can count on one hand the gear that you most depend on, the gear you don't compromise on, the gear that MUST work because it is impractical to bring multiples, the gear that can be a lifesaver in extreme situations.  Sleeping bag and tent are two of them.  But thanks to Jeff and his much maligned extra rainfly, we survived this damp experience.