Late August in western Ontario

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I’d read the essays and a book by an area outdoor writer and worked up the gumption to ask him to go paddling and fishing with me. He agreed and we went in late August 2012. An unexpected treat was the trees were already changing in western Ontario, which stretched the fall for me. A greater unexpected treat was canoeing with someone who knew the names and proclivities of the birds. I can identify and eagle and a loon, but my friend knew all the feathered folk by profile and call and I learned that there’s much more than loons and eagles in Ontario. We started out at a lake with a campsite as flat as a pool table, but since he was fly fishing, I suggested we move to a lake with large numbers of bass, the penalty being a lousy campsite. I’ve spent months on this lake, so I might know it better than anyone else on Earth, which means I hardly know it, since the combinations to lakes are always changing and the tumblers are down in the deep dark. We found bass in bunches and had good luck catching them with leeches. We thought the pattern was bass bunched over rocks off islands, but then we’d catch a bunch in a shallow, muddy bay, so, in the end, the only pattern we found was catch one and you’ll likely catch a score more. My buddy liked to take naps and there’s a pic of that, followed by a pic of one of his fish, one of mine, and a pic of the canoe atop my car. Oh, Canada!

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This is the only report that elicited no responses, so I'm going to reply:

That writer sure looks happy sleeping on the rock!
 
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He caught that bass on a fly rod? Pretty darn good, did you eat any fish?
And yes, as the hair grays, afternoon naps on a warm ground are required in western Ontario.:cool:
 
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Those are some fair size bass! Bet they pulled the canoe around pretty good.
 
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He caught that bass on a fly rod? Pretty darn good, did you eat any fish?
And yes, as the hair grays, afternoon naps on a warm ground are required in western Ontario.:cool:

I don't know if he caught that particular fish on a fly rod, but he caught on a bunch on a fly rod. We camped on an island on the second lake and there's a rock about ten feet out that always holds bass. After our tents were up, I told him to cast at the rock and he caught four in a row. "

I guess I caught them all," he said.

"Nah," I said, "wait half an hour and you can catch four more."

And he could because that rock kept reloading. We ate fish, but we didn't keep fish when we were out fishing because I don't like dragging them around the lake.

We'd catch a walleye and he'd say, "Should we keep this one?" "

No, let's wait," I'd say.

"How about this one?"

"Let it go. We'll keep one later."

When it was time to eat, we'd paddle back and shortly before reaching the campsite, we'd toss a couple crankbaits into the water.

"What if we don't catch one?" he asked.

"We just paddle a little farther."

Well, we never had to paddle a little farther, which amazed him, but that's western Ontario.
 
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Those are some fair size bass! Bet they pulled the canoe around pretty good.

I've had muskies and pike give me an Ontario Sleigh Ride! One time my dad had quit fishing and I was just offshore our island at dusk when a nice fish hit.

"Dad, it's pulling me!" I yelled. "What should I do?"

"Hang on!"
 
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