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The Northern Pike of Pinecrest Lodge
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Pinecrest Lodge is
located on the windswept southern shore of the Ottawa River, about a
two hour drive west on Highway 17 from Ottawa, Ontario. Pick
up two large double doubles (and one for yourself) from the Tim
Horton's at Deep River, and proceed another 13 kms west. At
the bottom of a long hill start gearing down to turn right into
Pinecrest, and to some scenery that was breathtaking for me on the
foggy morning in late May that I arrived. No - I am not
talking about Rob and Peter floating in the Legend. I mean the
view of the Ottawa River from the patio of Rusty's and Caroline's
lodge residence. Rusty greeted me - running up the hill -
shouting something in his South Texas accent.
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"Ahh you Mike, thate Fish-Hawk gah?" Rusty inquired. That's
what someone from South Texas sounds like to me.
"You must be Rusty" I replied.
"There's a young gah in thate cabin who is
pretty unhappy raht now. Your friends Rob and Peter launched up the
road at Swisha about four hours ago and David drove their vans back.
Rob and Peter haven't shown up to take David fishing yet and I sweah that boy is
goin' ta bust if he don't catch a fish real soon. Evertime I go to talk to him he comes after me
with a Foxee jig and minnow - swinging it around like he's some sort of gladiator with a ball and chain."This
kind of erratic behavior from David was nothing new to me. But Rob
and Peter taking more than four hours to cover four or five miles?
Something was not right. I
spoke to David for a few minutes, calming him down with a promise not to
leave him stranded should he help me launch my boat and drive my van back
to the Lodge.
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"It will be 15 lashes with the jig and
minnow if you do not return" David threatened...
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We pulled my boat to the launch at Swisha. As we drove along the
twisty, hilly roads cut out of the hills, David told me that he thought
Rob and Peter had been abducted by aliens. I have to admit that his
theory was holding water with me at that point - I had no explanation why
they hadn't returned to pick up David...other than he's a little nutty.
As we approached Swisha however, the truth became a little
clearer. The Swisha launch was on an island with the Ottawa River
flowing down from a dam on one side, and a heavy set of rapids on the
other side. I pulled out my map and David poured over
it, coming to the realization that Rob and Peter had decided to go the
wrong way in the fog after launching their boats. "Well, those
dumb-asses" he exclaimed. Seeing as how I had the benefit of a
map, I was a little more forgiving - I didn't call them dumb-asses out
loud.
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The launch at Swisha - the fog just
beginning to clear away in time for my ride back to Pinecrest.
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While David drove my van back to Pinecrest, I enjoyed my solo ride in
new waters that were as calm as glass. This was a nice way
to kick off our outing, and I could feel that there was going to be
something special happen in the way of some real good fishing. I found the dock at Pinecrest just a
little too quickly, and David, along with Rob and Peter, were there
waiting for me. They had indeed made the wrong turn at Swisha
and the fog had held them down until it cleared.
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We spent our first afternoon tracking the contours of a sand bar that
jutted out into the Ottawa River. We jigged with minnows, covering
depths of five foot intervals between 10 and 35 feet. A couple of
hits were registered and that was it. After supper it was time to
take the advice of our lodge hosts and head for the spot where we had
launched our boats earlier in the day - Swisha. I love that
name. Who wouldn't want to be Mayor of a town called Swisha!
Earlier I mentioned that Swisha was on an island that divided the
Ottawa River. It's also the spot where the two halves of the Ottawa
come together again at right angles. Peter and I decided not to fish
where all the other boats were hanging out because we are stubborn (and
stupid) when it comes to thinking that we can pick out our own
spots. So we went where no one else was...and got nothing.
Then the fog rolled in again - thick as pea soup it was.
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And here comes the fog rolling toward Peter
and I. It covered up a glorious sunset and then covered us like a
cool, damp blanket.
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While we had intended to stay out fishing until well after
dark, we decided that it was time to at least get ourselves over to the
Ontario side. Once there, if we managed to putt-putt slowly through
the fog keeping the shoreline lit with our 500,000 candlepower spotlights
we were certain to eventually hit the docks belonging to Pinecrest
Lodge. The problem with the lights however, was that they merely
served to make the fog more difficult to see through. And here was
another problem. Getting to Swisha earlier that evening had taken
close to 15 minutes at 25 mph. The return trip at 1 mph should take
how long? About 12 years? And that would be if we didn't
overshoot the dock!
Finally we heard whistling and we saw a glow in the fog up
ahead. Is that Pinecrest keeping a look-out for us? Peter and
I waved our lamps and yelled at our saviors in return. Another five
minutes later we were being greeted by Rusty on the dock. Another hour
later and Rob and David made their way home. We had kicked off the
first day of our three day trip with a great adventure. Adventure is
always a good substitute for a fishless day.
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DAY TWO - Friday. We headed to the spot where Rob had caught a small
walleye the day before - a shallow bay on the Québec side of the
Ottawa. It was beautifully sunny and calm in there, and I was
determined to catch a nice pike on a giant Mr. Twister rubber frog. Boy when I look
back I have to call myself a dumb-ass. Here is the
situation. It's late May early June and the spring has been
cool. The river is high and a few swampy areas are flooded. My
boat is in a shallow lake at the end of a long bay. It is protected from
icy north-west winds by tall deciduous trees
and the water is currently covering the first two vertical feet of dense
brush growing at the sides. On this day it is 23 degrees (about 74
F) and sunny. What in the world would be
better than a spinnerbait in this situation? I know there has
to be giant pike in here.
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Rob breaks the ice with a solid 30 incher.
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Rob quickly figures out the pattern and catches a nice pike, probably a
little more than 30 inches. "What did you get that on
Rob?" I called out. "A buzz-bait" he called back to
me at least three times - that was how long it took for me to hear
him. I'm one of these nearly deaf people that makes you say the same
thing over and over again. You mean a top-water buzz-bait? You
were top-watering in this cool water? Do it again, I dear ya!
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I was tossing my rubber frog underhand at some brush and twitching it
rapidly back to my boat. I caught a small pike about 14 inches long
- a teaser. Then a short while later the biggest pike I had ever
seen materialized by my frog. My frog disappeared in a
blur of fish, and startled, I pulled back as hard as I could and sent my
giant Mr. Twister frog streaking over my shoulder and through the sound
barrier, merely an inch in front of Peter's nose. I swore and flicked
the frog, now all bunched up on the hook, back into the general location
of the sighting, about 10 feet in front of me. And immediately there
was the same blur combined with the loss of visual contact with my
bait. In an instant replay, the giant Mr. Twister frog leapt out of
the water over my shoulder and through the sound barrier again, right by
Peter's nose. I was astonished at the size of the pike I had just
seen twice. Easily between 40 and 50 inches. Twice was too much for
Peter and he yelled "WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YER
MIND!" And then I hear the
second "WAHOO" of the day from Rob. He's got his second pike of the
day.
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Rob proving that he can hold a 30 pike in
his right hand as well as he can his left.
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A carefully laid out plan for
executing a successful walleye hunt after supper.
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We decided to have an early supper and
return to Swisha for the evening walleye bite. Rob and I
discussed our respective strategies for enticing the walleyes to
bite. I carefully laid out my plan on the table, showing how
my offerings were going to cover a range of moods for the
fish. I focussed on small plastics, all Berkley products, like
jig worms, grubs and something called a Power Pogy. These
would be the dressings on 1/8 to 1/4 oz jigs that would allow me to
maintain contact with the bottom, feeling the nooks and crannies as
I drift whichever way the wind and river decided to push me or pull
me that night.
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And here is Rob's plan for executing
a successful walleye hunt. I've taught him well.
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| Once again, the walleye alluded me as I somehow managed
to never be in the right place. Sandy and Mike R, a couple of
other guys in our party, managed to do quite well, counting seven
walleyes released between them that night. A couple of other
guests at the Lodge had done well too, and I watched an expert
filleting job in Pinecrest's cleaning hut, performed by a Québecoise
who spoke less English than I do French. A couple of beers later
and I was fluently bilingual in French. I love the way that beer breaks down the language
barriers. I also love the way that beer makes me sing
better. Yup - after beer, women love me and I am much funnier
too! Think I'll have a beer. Beer beer beer ba ba ba beer!
So my new friends Jean and Jean-Paul shared their secrets with me
and I got ready for the next mornings walleye bite at Swisha,
determined to finally get in on some decent walleye fishing instead of
listening to everyone else talk about it, in English and French.
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This is Jean and Jean-Paul, two guests
from Québec. After a couple of beer I was speaking the same
language.
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Day Three - Saturday. The next morning, Rob
and I left a bunch of sleepy heads back at the cottage and we headed
for Swisha again. This time I tied on a yellow bucktail jig with
a stinger hook, then dressed it with one of the small dace minnows
that were popular in this area. I lowered my jig down to the
bottom and we slowly dragged it as we drifted. I lifted the bait
real slowly over snags and catches, feeling for the very subtle bite
that was the walleye's that morning. And five times I pulled up
a walleye, the largest being nearly 20 inches. Rob got a couple
as well and both of us felt somewhat redeemed. |
The walleye bite turned off and Rob and I
beat it back for wake-up call with the rest of our friends still
asleep at Pinecrest. It was then a quick blast downstream to the
same shallow and flooded back bays that had produced Rob's pike the
day before. It being the same sort of sunny day, I was sure that
the technique I had chosen would be very productive - I was going to
show those guys why I have a website called Fish-Hawk.Net.
I was alone in my boat and I flew past everyone and didn't stop
until I was at the very back of the bay. Once there I added a
$2.50 spinnerbait to my thin 12 lb leader. A Kalin's 4 inch grub
was dressed to the hook. With the breeze pushing me down the
side of the lake, I stood in my bow and with gentle underhand tosses,
I sent my spinnerbait quietly dipping into the water inches from
the brush 20 feet away. As soon as the bait hit the water I
cranked it back to the boat, fast enough so that the single round
blade made a wake on the surface of the water behind it. |
I used a cheap spinnerbait dressed with
a 4 inch Kalins grub. The destroyed spinnerbait on bottom had
been assaulted by a huge pike.
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My plan was to cover every inch of water on both sides of the lake,
burning the spinnerbait as fast as it would allow. On my first
drifting pass, a large pike of about 15 lbs followed my bait out of the brush and to the side of the
boat. It wasn't interested in my boat-side figure eight
and it cruised out into the main part of the bay. On my next pass I
drifted with the breeze down the other side of the lake, conscious
that I was in the vicinity of where Rob had caught two nice pike the day
before. Suddenly there was action in the water in front of my
boat and my line was moving sideways. I prayed "please be
there" and pulled back hard on my spinning rod. There was
no give at the other end of my line, and the drag on my reel indicated
that this fish had simply swum through the hookset - unphased.
My heart was pounding - this was my biggest fish since the end of
November and I was only using spinning gear. I heard another
boat comment that "Mike is into a good one". |
I looked over to see a couple of boats with my friends
close by, and I called for help - there was no way I was going to be
able to net this fish with a spinning rod in the other hand.
Sandy jumped into my boat and waited patiently for my pike to be
pulled over to the side. If there was ever a time that using
Fireline paid off it was now. I have said it lots of times, 10
lb Fireline is much stronger than its rating. This fish measured nearly 37 inches. After a successful release
I motored up toward Rob and as I approached under idle, the knowing
grins we gave each other said it all - so did the crap in my pants -
that was a real nice fish.
I retied a new leader and attached a new spinnerbait and Kalins
grub to it. On the other side of the lake now, I began to toss
the bait underhand at the bushes again.
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A 36 incher that pounced on a
spinnerbait I was burning back to the boat.
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Approaching what could best be described as a point of
brush, I cast parallel to the shore and past the outcrop, retrieving
the bait at warp nine. When the bait was in front of the bush, a
boil appeared, indicating another good fish. It grabbed my bait
and immediately turned away from me. Set the hook? The
fish was already dragging line off my spool and by pulling back hard
on my rod I only served to peel more line off. The fish didn't
even notice the hook-set. I tightened my drag a little more and
reared back again - fearful of breaking my knot or the 12 lb test
leader. Both held though. Now the fish was in four feet of stained
water about 40 feet from the boat. I couldn't even turn it
toward me. Once again, I called out for help. There was a
little more reluctance on the part of my friends to stop their fishing
now. I knew the curiosity would get the best of David
though. He jumped into my boat and waited for the pike to finish
beating me up. It finally came to boat side and allowed me to
lead it into my rubber net. Got it. My biggest pike ever -
a 42! |
And this 42 incher had the other guys
thoroughly poisoned by now.
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Our hosts, Rusty and Caroline, with
a perfect bonfire for telling stories on a Saturday night.
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Later that night, Rusty and Caroline, owners of
Pinecrest, invited us down to their bonfire for a drink and a few
war stories. Unbelievably, I didn't get to tell any of my
stories - mine aren't as exciting anyway. The following morning it was time to pack it in and head for
home, but not before taking one more picture of a pike. This
one had been caught that morning by our neighbour, Jean Paul, and
three of his friends wanted to show it off.
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Jacqueline, Francine et Marlé avec
un beau brochet. Oh la la!
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| How can I sum up our stay at Pinecrest Lodge? The
fishing, the scenery, the accommodations, the hosts, the rental boats,
and the price, are unbeatable. If your annual fishing trip
normally takes you on a one hour drive north of the Canadian border into
Eastern Ontario, continuing north for two more hours to Pinecrest will
not leave you disappointed. I'm gonna leave you with a few more
pics of our adventure.
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Click here to go to the website of
Pinecrest
Lodge
and to book your adventure
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Above - The team of Caroline and Rusty
- two of
the finest fishing lodge hosts you will ever meet.
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Pinecrest Mission Control
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While there is usually a dock, a wind
out of
the North beat it up pretty bad. You can see dock remnants in
top left corner.
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Speaking of the wind out of the North -
full rain gear was required for this ride across the river.
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© 2007, Fish-Hawk.Net, All Rights Reserved. |
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