The quest for a huge brook trout has led fisherman into the wilderness for many, many years.
Sure you can fly to Labrador in northeast Canada and catch brookies upwards of 10 pounds, but that's an expensive proposition.
To me, searching that back-country pond in the beautiful Adirondacks and hoping to find a three- to five-pounder is the ultimate challenge.
Years ago, big brook trout were common, but with acid rain and over-fishing, those big, brightly colored, trophy fish are few and far between these days.
In the Adirondack Explorer _ a bi-monthly publication _ there is a regular section called "Questions for Clarence." Clarence Petty is a 103-year resident of the Adirondacks. In each issue, he answers a bunch of questions about his beloved mountains.
The March/April issue asked, "What's your favorite wild area in the Park?"
Petty replied: "I like the Cold River country. My brother and I would go there in the spring and catch five- to seven-pound brook trout in the river, in the rapids there. It was so shallow that their fins would stick out of the water. They're gone now."
The last time I hiked along the Cold River, I didn't catch a fish. Places such as Miller's Falls and Big Eddy should have held some great brookies, but not any more.
Word has traveled around the fishing community about catching five pounders in the St. Regis Wilderness Canoe Area, and in 2006, the state record fell in some unidentified, back-country pond north of Old Forge.
Places that hold big trout usually remain a secret. That big brookie weighed 4 pounds, 11 ounces.
On June 7, Tom Yacovella of Utica was fishing on Raquette Lake in northern Hamilton County when he got a hit on his Rapala lure. He landed a state record for brook trout, at 21 inches long and 5 pounds, 4.5 ounces.
It's interesting that Raquette Lake is a well-populated area right in the village. You don't have to hike back into the mountains, carrying your canoe and fighting the bugs. It's accessible right from the highway.
Yet right there in civilization, a huge brook trout lived for many years. How many fishermen have trolled that same water and never thought a giant brookie still lived there?
I'm not going to rush north and fight the crowds for a chance to land another big trout among the dozens of other boaters on the lake. To me, the brook trout is a symbol of the wilderness _ and that's where I want to find them.
I once asked an old Adirondack guide where I might find some good brookies. "Johnson Vly," he replied. And so, I ventured off.
The climb was steep as I struggled to the top of the mountain. I should have known better when I followed the well-beaten path, but that was when I was new to the mountains. Everyone else had fished that little pond. I was 30 years too late.
What do they say? "Records are meant to be broken."
Some place in the wilderness, another big fish will be caught.
I just hope they'll take pictures and then turn him back into the deep, cold water of that secret, secluded pond.
That's where he belongs.
Rick Brockway writes a weekly outdoors column for The Daily Star. E-mail him at robrockway@hotmail.com.
