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Rhon Bell

Rhon Bell, an outdoor enthusiast, spends his time exploring the Maine Woods and documenting his journeys. Growing up in Aroostook County, he embraced the outdoor lifestyle at a young age. Living today near Portland, he spends weekends and week-long adventures hiking New England summits, canoeing the historic Maine waterways, and ice fishing for lake trout. Follow the journey as Window to the Woods discovers new destinations, and check out his other blog, Backwoods Plaid.

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Window to the Woods with Rhon Bell
Posted: February 22, 2014

Ultimate connection to nature

Fishing is my ultimate connection to nature, so it’s without hesitation that I agreed to a two-day ice fishing trip with long-time friend and Registered Maine Guide, Steve. Within an hour I booked a rustic cabin conveniently wedged between two remote lakes. One lake offering traditional targets of trout, salmon and white perch. The other, pickerel and bass. Most would choose to fish only waters with prized trout or salmon, but there is something to be said for fishing waters promising greater activity; we’re told the bass are hungry. With fishing plans in the books – we anxiously await arrival to the countryside.

Staring into the glow of his iPhone, Steve raised his voice slightly above the AC/DC blaring on the classic rock station to inform me, “The snow forecast for day two is 8-10 inches”. Approaching the camp road, I feared that tomorrow might be our only good day of fishing. It’s my experience that fish feed heavily going into a winter storm. “We’ll be fine”, I muttered and turned off the truck.

Day one offered a beautifully sunny afternoon. Other than an Easterly wind, conditions were enjoyable. We brought seven White Perch to the hard-water surface. Each ranging between 8-14 inches. Beginning with a few traps set near bottom we hoped of luring a fat brown trout from a ledge. Others were strategically placed just under the thick ice in case a good-looking salmon were to pass by. Seven hours on the ice were well spent and as grey clouds rolled in, we called it a day. Proving to be amateur meteorologists, a heavy wet snow began falling by the time we arrived back to the cabin. We both agreed that tomorrow would be another great day of fishing.

 

 

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