By Harlan Schwartz

I looked up to the grey clouds darkening with each passing Kilometer.  It had been over an hour since I left the city of Elliot Lake, and it’s sunshine behind.  I  headed out at dawn with my destination the Little White River.  Reports of wild rainbow and brook trout coupled with a fast moving wild river had been on my brain through the long winter months. Being late April, with the air warming and snow melting, I made up my mind to venture north and try my luck.  

Reports were stating that water levels were a few feet lower than normal due a lack of snowfall over the winter.  Still, my plan  unchanged,  I drove further through the dense Boreal forest of the Algoma Region.  As I approached my put in, the skies finally delivered on their promise.  I sat there shaking my head for 10 minutes as the rain came down with tremendous force.  As it eased, I climbed out of my truck into the crisp 5 degree Celsius air.  Not a good sign.  A cold front had definitely moved in and thoughts of snow quickly entered my mind.

As I walked down a small embankment and gazed upon the river, my elation quickly came to a jaw dropping halt.  The river was low as promised. Very low.  Mix in some treacherously fast water and I was well on my way to a wet, wild and disappointing trip.  

  The rains had been falling for 2 days when I had arrived that morning and had turned the river into a gauntlet of rocks, timber and shallow stretches.  Being as this was a solo trip, I quickly consulted my maps to find an alternate route for the next three days.

Soon after, I decided on a milk run.  Instead of a single route, I would try my hand at several lakes within a general vicinity.

And with that, I piled into the truck, and headed northwest on the Kindiogami logging road.  I must say for a logging road in late April the road was in surprisingly good shape.  No rocks or debris to dodge, just the occasional prescence of Bear Dung!

My first stop, was not too far up the road.  The map noted it as Otter Lake.  A relatively small lake with a single island on the southeast end.  The put in was well cleared with a small fire ring 30 feet from the waters edge.  This would be base camp for the night.  I unloaded my gear, set up camp rather hastily and dropped the canoe in the water.  The lure of a speckle lake was too great.  Within minutes I pushed off and headed for the far shore.  With rod in hand I tied on my go to speckle Trout lure.  A Blue and Silver Little Cleo. 

I reckoned I’d be happy with a fish or two seeing as I had never even heard of this lake until the minute I arrived.  To my surprise, the first pass brought 4 trout to my canoe.  All between 1 & 1 ½ pounds.  All but one were released.  That one was my reward for the day.  I made 2 full trolls around the lake by 5:00 PM.  9 fish; not bad and better than I had expected. 

With fresh trout in the skillet and a crackling fire providing warmth I gazed upon the map to plot the course for the next day.  The Elliot Lake region has so much to offer to the canoeist and fisherman.  The topography is so diverse.  Large hills that lead to small mountaintop trout lakes, endless bogs, dense forests.  Truly a sportsman’s paradise.  I settled on 2 connecting unnamed lakes just north of Location Lake.  They seemed to be a prime candidate for specks and were only 20-30 minutes away.

After a delicious trout dinner, I nestled into my sleeping bag, tired from my first day of paddling in over 5 months.  Within minutes I had nodded off to the sounds of the northern forest.

As I awoke the following morning, my worst fears were realized.  Fresh snow.  The last thing you want to see after 5 months of winter is fresh snow on your first trip of the season. 

After downing 2 cereal bars, I grabbed my gear, packed up and loaded the canoe.  Within an hour I was off into the cold morning air to my next lake.

A glance to my left 30 minutes later confirmed a small body of water that looked “too perfect”.  I had arrived at my next destination.  After a quick setup of camp on the roads edge, I was paddling hard towards a “typical brookie shoreline”  My trusty lure was soon at it again, picking up a chunky 2 pound spec within minutes. 

The rest of the day was spent exploring the 2 small lakes, barely larger than beaver ponds.  I figure I trolled my way through every inch of these lakes.  To show for it I had caught and released over 20 trout, in the 1 to 2 pound range.  Still no giants but the numbers were very impressive.  I began to realize first hand the draw of this region.  All these trout and I had yet to see another truck or canoe. 

Back at camp, my mind was filled with dreams of a large trout.  My personal best is a 3 pound specimen, a fine trout indeed but there were larger ones out there.  Somewhere in this vast wilderness lay the fish of my dreams and I was going to spend my last day of the trip in search of it.  Another look at the map yielded another lake just up the road west of Toosee Lake.  This would be my destination for the final leg of the trip. 

I turned the Coleman Lantern off, threw another log on the fire, crawled into my bag and turned in for the night. 

The next morning I arose to frost, but no snow.  It had dipped down to -6 degrees Celsius overnight.  I was cold and a bit stiff but there was trout to be caught.  Slowly the blood started pumping through my body and I gathered enough energy scramble some eggs.  I truly believe nothing wakes you up better from a miserably cold night in the bush than scrambled eggs and coffee.  Soon my spirits were raised and my gear was again packed up. 

The drive to the final lake was no more than 10 minutes.  A small, featureless and fairly round body of water.  Like all other lakes in the region though, there would be plenty of wood and rock below the surface to pull my lures and hopefully some trout through!  

Not long after my put in I felt my line tighten and the rod bend.  First fish of the morning, a 2 pounder on a Silver Williams Wobbler.  Not bad I figured.  Maybe my trophy would come from this lake yet.  Besides, there was still 8 hours of fishing left in the day.  While those 8 hours would lead to the single best day of brookie fishing in my life, my trophy managed to escape me.  It seemed I had a trout on every other cast.  Williams Wobblers and Little Cleos both held their own, fish after fish.  Oddly, the entire lake seemed to hold fish.  It wasn’t a deep lake, roughly 6 foot average depth, but a fish factor

As the sun began to lower, I realized the time had come to pack up and head back towards Elliot Lake.  This was my first trip into the bush north of the city and I was very impressed with the quality of my experience.  Great fishing, great water and great wilderness.  While it’s obvious the mazes of logging roads in this area are well traveled, I managed to spend 3 days in the area and not see a soul.  The closest I came to human contact was a blaze left by a canoeist at the start of a portage.

I had just turned off the main logging road, back onto Highway 546 when I spotted a trailer parked next to a river.  A family was sitting next to a small fire awaiting their dinner.  I waved as I passed by and headed down the road. 

Opportunities are endless in this region.  All it takes is a good map and a little hard work.  For someone who was skeptical on how productive this area could be, I can guarantee I’ll be returning soon.  My trophy’s still swimming in those waters

For Information on Planning A Trip in the Region

Contact Chris at the Elliot Lake Trading Post.  His shop can outfit you with everything you need to tackle the area.

Elliot Lake Trading Post
14 Oakland Blvd.
Elliot Lake, Ontario
P5A 2T1
Phone: 705-848-8401