Mallard knows Kennebec cold ... and hot

Copyright © 2004 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc.

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When winter wind soughs beneath the eaves, my October daydreams of fishing include an Indian-summer afternoon with somewhat low water, and why not? This month in central Maine reigns as one of the driest all year, perfect for blue-winged-olive hatches and rising trout against shorelines of red, yellow, gold and evergreen.

Often, though, a day leans more toward winter than early fall, which happened on the Solon stretch of the Kennebec River last week. High water, unseasonably low temperatures and gusting winds exceeding 30 mph slowed the fishing considerably, but the weather did not stop me from experiencing one of those trips that created lifetime memories.

One image sticks vividly in mind. Bob Mallard, owner of Kennebec River Outfitters in Madison, stood 200 yards away in a wide, shallow run on the opposite side of a partially flooded, gravel island. Even at that distance, it was easy to see the swollen river ripping around his calves and boiling downstream, dancing white light under bright sun. He was casting toward the ankle-deep water next to the bank, a shallow, sloping gravel beach, where most folks would think no brown trout would lie.

I was looking at Bob, when a fish hit his fly. Instantly, the acutely-arced fly rod started bucking up and down, a violent, jerking movement reminiscent of a small limb in a hurricane. Once again, Bob had proven his theory that browns love thin water, particularly pre-spawn browns.

A typical angler thought flitted through my mind. Was a small fish helped by the flow bending the rod so sharply, or was it a big fish that would test a rod in still water?

Bob saw me watching and hollered, but in the gusting gale, the words were murmurs in the distance. After a little sign language, though, it was obvious that he wanted to shoot photos.

"Big fish!" I whispered softly and slogged upstream to the drift boat and Bob's huge tackle bag. A quick perusal turned up no camera, so I grabbed the mini "suitcase" and splashed across the partially submerged island. Once we were within hearing distance, I found a dry place to set the bag and retrieve the camera.

The fish turned out to be a brown trout -- 18 inches of rock-hard body and startling, 3-D spots against rich brown. The fish was smaller than Bob had first thought, but the raging current had made it feel as if rocket boosters were attached to the fins. After a few quick photos, the brown shot out of sight the second Bob removed the hook.

That day resembled a Norseman's idea of purgatory, so instead of tiny flies and light rods, we were throwing no. 2, heavily weighted, rabbit-hair streamers that might have been more suitable for ultra-light spinning rods. However, I had chosen a 9-weight Orvis rod that worked just fine for huge, fish-catching streamers, and Bob had a 7-weight Sage, which I thought was too small.ĘBob let me cast the smaller rod, though, and it handled those big flies just fine -- as well if not better than my much bigger rod. One way or the other, October fishing in high water during a gale requires a rod capable of handling a wind-resistant, weighted streamer.

Mallard knows this Solon stretch of the Kennebec cold, and when he claims a certain spot holds a large trout, chances are good that one will at least show itself. Whether the river is high or low, cold or warm, the man knows where fish hang through the season.

One memorable moment that day was a huge crayfish, poking around the bottom in shallow water. I have eaten plenty of crayfish in my life, and this river has big ones, a meaty morsel worth harvesting -- if that is your thing. Kennebec salmonids obviously dine on this high-protein forage.

In my humble opinion, one with which many veteran anglers agree, salmonids fishing slows considerably in the next two weeks, unless you are keying on spawning fish. (I obviously do not cast over spawning beds.) In November, on unseasonably warm days, action picks up again. Solitude is a sure bet, and life can be sweet.

In fact, Bob Mallard was telling me that November fly-fishing over Kennebec blue-winged olive hatches was an immensely special time of year for him -- fast fishing and little to no competition.

I know more and more folks, who take advantage of increased fishing opportunities in mid to late autumn.

Fall fishing is something to look forward to for those non-hunters who put their rods away in the next eight weeks. Check the regulations summary, though, because many waters are closed now. (From Madison down on the Kennebec, folks can fish year-round.)

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Recently, I wrote a short blurb about the Fort Halifax Dam on the Sebasticook, which generated several, thoughtful comments from folks who want this Winslow structure left intact. I would be remiss not to mention some points briefly, but mind you, they are not necessarily my opinion.

As I stated in the column, I favor removing the Fort Halifax Dam.

Opponents of dam removal felt that beginning in 1987, there was no mention of removing the structure, just installing an unspecified fish passage. In 1998, a stipulation for an expensive fish lift as opposed to a less costly fish passage was a new angle on then 11-year-old project. This eventually led to the group feeling blind-sided by the decision to remove the dam.

Ken Allen, of Belgrade Lakes, writes outdoors columns for the Morning Sentinel and Kennebec Journal.E-mail: Kallyn800@aol.com

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