fontinalis

Wild Brook Trout of Quebec, Canada

(Click Any Image to Enlarge)

Looking at a map of Quebec, one cannot help but be amazed at the number of blue spots scattered about. Thousands upon thousands of lakes lay across the region, surely more than can be counted. Within this myriad of streams and lakes is a lifetime's worth of flyfishing for the trout that personifies the area like no other, the native brook trout.

My personal familiarity with lake fishing for brookies in this province is predominantly from an area north of the Laurentians in a region known as the " heart" of Quebec... somewhere between Montreal and the Saguenay Lac St. Jean region. For the past several years my brother-in-law Eric and I have watched the sun set over our trout seasons there. For me, it is a way to find peace; a last shot at spiritual renewal before the onset of winter, and of course the native trout.

I was introduced to this area and its lakes by Eric's old friend, Yvon. If you like to fish in remote and pristine places, he is a very good friend to have. Yvon is a seasoned veteran who has fished the region for over forty years. A raconteur and bon vivant in the autumn of his life, he's regaled us with fascinating stories over the years; stories which have kept Eric and I awake through the wee hours of the morning during many days afield. We owe you our thanks, Yvon!

On the Porch

The Cabin

Getting to the main camp can be a bit of an odyssey depending on road conditions, as it might take over two and a half hours to negotiate a fifty kilometer stretch while avoiding rocks, pot holes, boulders, fallen trees and washed out sections of road (all of which seem bent on devouring our car).

These are logging roads, if one can call them that, which have only existed for a few years. Before then, one could only reach camp and many of these lakes by float plane. In a way, it is sad to see "progress" reaching into such remote sanctuaries. Nonetheless, the area is far from being easily accessible for the casual adventurer. Heavy rains can, at times, make some these roads impassable which could be a disaster or a blessing depending on how one looks at it. After all, being marooned for a few extra days of fishing due to bad road conditions does not seem like such a bad deal!

No matter how the commute goes, arriving at Lac Principale (the main lake where the camp is located) is always inspiring. It's dark tannic waters are full of promise and its shores packed to the water's edge with conifers. The fresh air hints strongly of autumn's arrival and brings a sense of urgency to the fishing.

Weapon selection

Portage to
hidden
treasures

The type of fishing we do varies depending on the lake we are on and the prevailing conditions. The small weedy bays of the largest lake and the smallest pond, allow us the opportunity to fish to rising trout with dries and small nymphs. They behave typically, sometimes throwing themselves to our dry orange mini-muddlers with wild abandon, and other times, making us wonder if there are any fish around.

In addition to Lac Principale, there are a few other smaller lakes, which can be accessed by boat and corresponding portages of between five minutes to one hour. During some of these portages, we have been lucky to observe beavers at work, grouse, and two moose cows traveling together. We wondered if the "invisible" male would get to live long enough to mate with them; an unlikely prospect judging by the heavy presence of camouflage clad - 4X4 ATV hunters already busy staking out their territory and setting up blinds.

Magnificent Hues	Here, the wild brookies range between 6 and 12 inches in length and are usually already dressed in outrageous fall colors.	Parr Marked Adult
On a small, wind protected, two acre pond, it is a pleasure to be able to throw little dries with a two weight outfit and be rewarded by these crimson beauties.

It's interesting to see how the carrying capacity of these lakes varies in its makeup from place to place. Some of these lakes seem to hold massive numbers of speckles which do not exceed 9 or 10 inches. Other stillwaters make you wonder if they have any fish until one gets a massive hit from a hefty squaretail that almost rips the rod from the hand and leaves one's heart pounding for a while.

A Bruiser Comes
to Hand

It was in one such lake last September that we eventually connected with some 16 to 20 inch specimens. Interestingly, these fish attacked a very small black beadheaded woolly bugger (#14) with a short tail, totally ignoring larger imitations. It shows that even in secluded, less accessible waters, brookies can be quite particular as to what they eat.

the take

Quebec woods and lakes are a paradise for hunters and fishers alike. In these parts, fishing for brookies is very much a blood sport and catch and release is not a very applied notion. We certainly kill some fish, but only the ones we intend to eat while there.

Our cabin in camp overlooks the western bay of Lac Principale and we are usually well prepared for this all-frills-included outing. Dry ice to zap cold a few drinks of choice, wild rice, tarragon, and 15% UHT French cream for the sauce to accompany these pink fleshed delicacies that Eric steams for us.

On our last season wrap up trip we spent three nights dining, and lying about fish in the good company of the guide and care take of the camp, Jean Paul. He is not the stereotypical hirsute type guide, but rather a clean cut woodsman and well traveled globetrotter with stories from near and far. let's just say that we were a bit short with our three bottles of Cabernet.

Fishing for trout in Quebec closes relatively early (beginning of September) in order to protect the spawners from sure slaughter. During last year's closing of the season the prevailing day temperature averaged 30 degrees centigrades and S. fontinalis were sulking and nowhere to be seen, for the most part.

During our last night sitting on the cabin porch overlooking the lake, we could hear a bull moose sloshing his way through the shallows in his search of females. It was fun to hear him answer our calls in the pitch black night.
As is always the case on these outings, time to say goodbye to this wonderful place came too soon. And so, we bid au revoir to the brookies of the north in la belle province... until next year.

Speckled Reward