Whenever we find a gap in our weekend agenda, I can usually plug it with a little stocked-lakes fishing.
This past Sunday I grabbed the rods and a handful of kids and set my course for Hidden Lakes number three.
The four of us hit the Riverdale trails and hiked up, down and around until we found the often overlooked little pot-hole lake. Nestled right next to the larger Hidden Lakes number one, this lake is sheltered within the woods and within a 25 minute walk from Hyland Crescent.
On the trail I came to the realization that we were over-prepared for fishing and under-prepared for adventuring. This meant that I had all kinds of rods and tackle, but not enough snacks, drinks and clothes to weather a long day.
As has been the norm of late, the weather changed seven times on our little walk. What started out as a blue sky had turned grey, with the potential for rain.
I knew the kids would only last so long without the required snacks and the weather closing in.
Gathering the team for a huddle, I called out the plays and set them off to cover the lake. Max with his fly rod would take the north-east shoal. Christopher and Zack with spin gear would flank him and cast down a couple of snag-free corridors.
This worked relatively well from a casting perspective, but was not resulting in any bites or fish.
Knowing the troops needed a change, I decided to shift us around the lake and try our luck on the east side.
En route I wanted to make a couple of “grown-up” casts in a tricky but productive area and see if I could pull in a fish on a dry fly. Nothing keeps kids entertained like a fish or two on shore.
I directed my oldest son, Zack ahead to fish off a point, while I rigged up my rod and prepared to cast.
Before I could roll out my back-cast, the kids were yelling and scrambling at the point, with a fish on shore. As I walked around to give them a hand, they caught another one.
I gave up on my fishing spot and joined them in the honey-hole. An hour later they had caught four and lost another two.
Zack had the hot rod with a little burnt orange and dotted spoon that he called the “jaguar”. I was very proud of him, for not only hooking into the fish but also landing them.
The submerged trees in this little lake make it difficult to get these fish out. One has to be aggressive with the fish, hold the rod up high and crank them in as fast as possible.
With enough for dinner and a daunting walk ahead we called it a day and made our way home.
It was a triumphant day for the boys who worked together catching, bonking and cleaning the rainbow trout. They took great pride in the fact that they were able to put food on the table for that evening.
