Fishing fools get ready for opening day

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Each year at this time, the same things happen. We begin digging through the garage, looking for rods and reels and tackle. We take all of our equipment apart, repair the broken, replace the rotten, and finalize our opening-day plans.

Well, folks, that day is here. Friday – April Fools Day, not coincidentally – is the official opening day of the open-water fishing season.

And many of us April Fools will be out there, somewhere, wetting a line and hoping a winter-weary fish will reward us with a strike.

For most of us who live and fish in these parts, successful quests to find open water will end at a favorite river or stream; flowing water is much more apt to be fishable and ice-free, while ponds and lakes are likely to remain socked in with a thick cover of ice.

Two years ago, I headed north and fished the West Outlet of the Kennebec River on Opening Day.

It was cold. Keeping ice out of the guides on my fly rod proved impossible … as did keeping my fly rod in one piece.

As a friendly L.L. Bean employee later told me, “Graphite and cold weather just don’t mix too well.”

Last year, I headed east. Grand Lake Stream always has open water on opening day, and many anglers set course for the picturesque village on April 1 each year.

The decision proved productive. Not only did I escape with my equipment intact, I also caught a fish.

As one who generally fishes on opening day just to get into the spirit of the season (and who expects to get skunked for most of the month of April), that made for a memorable day.

The fact that the opening day fish was the largest landlocked salmon I caught all year didn’t hurt, either.

With that success still fresh in my mind, I’ll return to Grand Lake Stream this year. And I promise not to leave my fishing license at home this time around … unlike last year.

In 2004, a warden asked for my license when I emerged, half-frozen, from an extended wade in Dam Pool.

The license was, I found out later, sitting on my desk, where I’d left it while applying online for the moose permit lottery.

After watching me frantically leaf through my overstuffed wallet three times, the warden shook his head, asked my name and date of birth, and left me with this gem: “So tell me. Are you gonna write about this one?”

At the time, I didn’t think so. Looking back, I suppose the entire episode just illustrates the kind of April Fool I really am.

Moose hunt deadline looms

Speaking of the moose lottery, the deadline for online entry into the annual drawing is Friday at 11:59 p.m.

Don’t miss out. It doesn’t take long to register, and you can do so at the state’s Web site: www.mefishwildlife.com.

Tiger hunt goes well

Back in January a few college buddies called with an offer they assumed I couldn’t refuse.

“We’re going to Florida for Easter weekend,” one told me. “Just the guys. It’ll be a reunion for us, since we’re all going to be 40 soon and we haven’t spent any real time together in 15 years.”

After hearing the basic itinerary, I agreed in principle to the trip … then began wondering how I could possibly sell my absence to The Boss.

Seeing as how I’m an outdoors columnist, it didn’t take long to figure out my only option.

I worked up a makeshift script and fully intended to march over to The Boss’s desk and announce: “I’m going Tiger hunting.”

At the last minute, I realized that he’d be more apt to agree to a few days off if I simply told him the absolute truth.

“We’ve got tickets to The Players Championship at Sawgrass, and it would be really, really great if I could go,” I told him. “I don’t need the whole week. Just a couple days off will do.”

Typically, many of my reunions these days take place in boats, in the woods, or while wading in a river.

These pals – all three grew up in Brewer and Bangor – don’t fish or hunt. The chance of enjoying a reunion of that kind with them is nil.

So this time, we did what we’ve done so many times before: We went golfing. Best of all, this time, we let the world’s best players hit the ball for us.

As you may have guessed, The Boss said yes. Last Friday, I hopped onto a plane.

And now I’m back, happy to announce that our Tiger hunt was a huge success.

Yes, we dealt with daily thunderstorms in the greater Jacksonville area. Yes, every day we went to the tourney, action ended up getting suspended or postponed.

But we saw Tiger … and eventual winner Fred Funk. We sat behind the famed 17th hole island green and watched the world’s best struggle.

We saw an alligator, several turtles, and watched a large bird snatch a fish out of the pond and make off with his snack.

We shared old stories, laughed about shared experiences, and had a great time. Just like we would have in the woods … or in a boat.

While each of my friends lives outside of Maine now, each of them is still a Mainer at heart. Their career paths have taken them all over the country (and sometimes the world), and each is enjoying life.

But on the long drive back to Bangor from the Providence airport earlier this week, I realized … again … how lucky I am.

My friends spend their professional lives in classrooms and offices, miles from the place they grew up.

I’m still here, in the town where I was born. And my workplace is a different kind of classroom, a different kind of office.

Every time I walk out the door … it’s there. Every time I put on waders … it’s there.

On the drive back home, I realized (for the millionth time or so) that it’s not a bad way to make a living.

And despite the fun we had over the weekend, I realized that it was great to be back.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.