Sept. 21, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
365 
An Amateur’s Experience. 
Fishing for Trout in the Adirondacks. 
BY CHAS. D. DAVIS. 
On reading an interesting magazine story 
in which the catching of a six-pound trout was 
the principal feature, I became imbued with 
the notion that trout fishing with the “seduc¬ 
tive fly” must be a very fascinating and excit¬ 
ing sport. 
I had never handled a rod nor heard the 
music of a running reel in my life. I at once 
sought the best authorities on this particular 
sport and began reading with eagerness 
Forest and Stream. The more I learned the 
theory of the “gentle art,” the more enthusias¬ 
tic I became to put it into practice. My next 
move was to visit a sporting goods establish¬ 
ment and modestly express my ambition to 
catch trout, and to possess an inexpensive, but 
serviceable outfit for that purpose. My actual 
possession of the slender rod, dainty reel, line, 
leaders, split shot, and beautiful flies, aroused 
visions altogether • new to my imagination. 
From that moment I had great expectations. 
Knowing a few friends who talked fishing I 
thought it wise to ask them a few leading 
questions concerning fly-fishing, of which I 
knew absolutely nothing in a practical way. To 
my surprise not one of ten who prided them¬ 
selves on being fishers could give me the least 
information on how to “cast” and when to 
“strike” when a trout took a fly. Oh, yes, they 
knew all about the kind of bait and everything 
else to be used for catching many other kind 
of fish, and even reptiles like alligators, eels and 
frogs, but of how to lure the “monarch of the 
brook” they reluctantly admitted their ignor¬ 
ance. It seemed to me that fly-fishing for trout 
must be a rare accomplishment. This, however, 
did not discourage me, and so on the advice of 
a friend, I packed my grip and made ofif for 
Cranberry Lake in the heart of the Adiron¬ 
dacks. 
On my arrival there, July 27, I was cheered 
with the promise of some good trout fishing. 
This promise was qualified by the statement of 
others that my coming a month or six weeks 
earlier would have been better. I was sur¬ 
prised to find many guest at the “inn” in¬ 
terested in fishing. Whether these people re¬ 
cognized in me a tyro I cannot say, but they 
certainly entertained me with some remark¬ 
able fish stories hard to believe. One was that 
a large lake trout had been caught with a 
speckled trout inside him. I failed to verify 
this story. From the start I was warned not to 
waste time fishing in the lake because the water 
was warm and the trout were seeking the 
cooler spring-fed brooks and streams. With 
no intention of ignoring this good advice, I 
sought a secluded and advantageous spot on the 
lake bank, free from impediments, where I 
could practice the art of casting. 
It was early in the morning, July 28. The 
sky was overcast. The mountains in their 
silent majesty almost surrounded the lake. All 
nature seemed to linger in her awakening. 
There was not a sound except the ripple of the 
water as it lapped the shore at my feet. The 
air was fragrant with the breath of the forest. 
The grandeur of the scenery and the quiet 
solitude beguiled me. 
At each cast of the fly I drew a foot or 
more of the line from the reel. The little suc¬ 
cess that attended my interested efforts in this 
practice engaged all my thought and attention. 
The hope of catching a trout at this time did 
not suggest itself. Suddenly my rod tip bent to 
the water. There was a trembling at the end 
of the line and a tremor shot through me like 
a mild electric shock. The clicking of the reel 
as the line ran out got me so excited that I 
came perilously near falling off the bank into 
the lake. Whatever it was at the end of my 
line, it kept me busy. My rod was a rainbow. 
I kept letting out and reeling in, remembering 
that I must keep a taut line, until, perhaps, 
more by luck than judgment, I landed a fish 
twelve inches long. Oh, joy! it was my first 
catch—a speckled trout. I need not say I was 
very much elated. Fifteen minutes after 1 
hooked another beauty not so large. Thus was 
I initiated into the brotherhood of fishers. 
While at the lake I had the good fortune to 
fall in with Mr. Le Grange, of Bainbridge, N. 
Y. A genial fellow and expert in fly-fishing. 
He taught me much from his long experience. 
Before leaving Cranberry Lake I heard there 
was good fishing in Grass River. To reach this 
river one could either take the open road for 
ten miles or the forest trail of five miles. I 
decided to take the trail, remembering the 
words of Byron, that, “there is a pleasure in 
the pathless woods.” I was cautioned, however, 
not to leave the trail or lose sight of it. I 
plunged into the forest at 2 o’clock in the after¬ 
noon. I entered also upon a new experience. 
The trail was well defined, but rough and nar¬ 
row, in places. The great trees on both sides 
interlocked their branches over the trail, al¬ 
most shutting out the light of day. The dense 
undergrowth restricted my vision to a few feet. 
In the more open places beautiful flowers were 
blooming which, though new to me, I dared 
not gather for fear of missing the trail. On 
emerging from the wood I came out on a 
broad plateau that commanded a glorious view 
of vast reaches of the Adirondacks. Close by I 
found the camp of “Bill” Mcllise, a noted guide 
of that section. To me. a tenderfoot, he was 
very considerate, and drew from me my uncon¬ 
cealed admiration of his ability as a guide, a 
fisher and a canoeist. The following mornipg, 
by arrangement, he took me four miles down 
the Grass River in his canoe. Within this short 
distance we passed through three rapids. In 
shooting these “Bill” took the narrow passages 
between rocks with the unerring skill of an 
Indian scout. It was a lively experience. On 
our way “Bill” pointed out the likely places to 
cast the fly. From the still waters under the 
shade of overhanging trees, and at the base of 
a rock where the stream ran swiftly, I brought 
to our basket six beauties. I lost three large 
trout through my inexperience in “striking” 
and bringing in. 
A perfect treat was the lunch that Bill pre¬ 
pared on the bank of the river. Coffee, bread 
and butter, broiled trout, fruit, and'then a pipe 
and some thrilling hunting stories from Bill’s 
experience. 
I never returned from a vacation so much 
rested and strengthened in body, and with such 
delightful memories of both forest and stream. 
Illinois Casting Club. 
Chicago, Ilk, Sept. 10.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: The following scores resulted from the 
contests of the 7th and 8th insts. Weather clear, 
wind northeast, about twelve miles per hour: 
Quarter-ounce accuracy bait: 
Hartley . 
Tournier . 
Stanley . 
Bauer . 
Linder . 
Whitby . 
Heston . 
Jamison . 
McCandless . 
Asper . 
Spencer . 
Tice . 
Kirk . 
De Garmo . 
Humphreys . 
Huntley . 
Kernaghan . 
Nicholson . 
Kerr . 
Pierson . 
Accuracy Fly: 
Stanley . 
Heston . 
Jamison . 
Whitby . 
W T Grant. 
De Garmo . 
Linder . 
C W Grant. 
Swisher . 
Pierson . 
Huntley . 
Quarter-ounce distance bait: 
De Garmo . 
Stanley . 
Jamison . 
Whitby . 
Score. Re-entries. 
98.4 
98.5 
98.2 
98.2 
99.2 
99.6 
97.8 
98.4 
99.3 
99.4 
98.9 
99.0 
98.3 
98.7 
99.1 
98.4 
98.0 
97.2 
97.8 
98.8 
96.8 
96.5 
97.6 
97.6 
96.8 
98.6 
99.4 
98.8 
98.5 
97.3 
98.5 
99.3 
96.6 
99.3 
98.9 
99.5 
99.3 
99.1 
99.7 
99.10 
99.5 
99.3 
99.1 
99.7 
99.5 
98.2 
97.14 
99.9 
99.9 
99.3 
99.8 
98.2 
98.12 
98.7 
98.8 
99.6 
99.2 
98.12 
98.9 
131 % 
114 % 
114 % 
91 % 
Only two more days remain before the close 
of the season, viz.: re-entry day, Sept. 28. There 
is no prearranged rotation of events for these 
days. All the games will be played in order that 
every member who wishes to may complete his 
score, provided that his re-entires do not exceed 
the legal limit. In order that this may be done, 
it will be necessary that contests be started 
promptly at 2:15 p. m. Saturdays and at 9:15 on 
the day following. 
As soon as possible after last re-entry day— 
probably the first or second week in October—■- 
will be held our annual fall club tournament. 
Details concerning this important event will be 
given in a later communication. 
Minnesota Bass. 
Pelican Rapids, Minn., Sept. 8 .—Editor 
Forest and Stream: On the 5th of this month 
at Lake Lizzie, Otter Tail county, Minnesota, I 
caught a small-mouthed bass 20Y2 inches in 
length, 1 6]Y inches in circumference and weigh¬ 
ing 6 pounds 2 ounces. 
Have you record of any large one of that 
kind being caught this year? 
Scott Monteith. 
[This is the largest catch reported to us this 
year.—E ditor.] 
Have you observed the improvement in 
Forest and Stream ? 
