It’s all about the Lobstah 🦞 (but not really)
For me storytelling is a solid relief & release, it gives me an outlet and opportunity to reflect.
With darkness around us, trying to infiltrate our space, I choose to illuminate a peaceful pace.
You don't need to sacrifice flavor when you have Good To-Go meals with you
As an added level of protection I'd use my Potable Aqua PURE Electrolytic Water Purification
First sunrise
Those who sleep though sunrises ... you are missing a glorious portion of the day!
Jiggin' (ya' gotta put in the time if you're going to catch any fish but in this case we only caught a good time)
From here you can see our campsite on the point and Lobster Stream
Sunrise the start of day three
Our final sunset was upon us as we stayed late on the water hoping for that evening bite
Silence filled the car as we started the drive wicked early to Lobster Lake deep into Maine’s northern woods.
Our first sunset making Big Spencer Mountain appear as if the leaves are already changing
Thoughts of what’s ahead, the dehydrated food we packed not counting on fish for sustenance but hopeful for a tasty morsel or two.
Over the years we’ve honed our skills in a plethora of arenas; tasks otherwise mundane can be called upon when you’re remote on a lake without …
… unless you packed it or are resourceful!
Water ~ we’ll start there.
Other than our starter 32 oz Nalgene filled to the brim we’d rely on my ability to safely filter lake water for hydration, that cup o’ joe I’d take our in our canoe as we paddled to a deep fishing hole & of course meal prep.
For this crucial task I rely upon my Platypus Gravity Fed System (I’d used it successfully while spending 10 days in the Boundary Waters for six people). As an added safety layer I also chose to incorporated the Potable Aqua PURE Electrolytic Water Purification step; allowing our water to sit for at least 30 minutes prior to consumption & sit within the rays of the powerful sun to eliminate anything that could otherwise make our insides want to come out.
Using my Platypus GravityWorks Water Filter System
There are a host of “chores” that must be completed when your home and yup when on the road overlanding & definitely camping.
Divvied up they are much more agreeable hence a quicker completion so that we could both sit back & watch the waves lazily crash into the shore while clouds nonexistent hours before start to billow knowing that by the time darkness pushes in it’ll take over, they’ll be kicked overboard allowing for the most dramatic Milky Way viewing we’d witnessed since we spent that extremely hot night in Death Valley the summer of 2011 with our son and nephew.
Our experiences shape who we are, they give texture to our character. The key is to not allow them to overtake or consume you until your soul is left dark, empty & raw.
Living here for four days, we could’ve stayed longer, life was slower and simpler.
You access Lobster Lake via what is called Lobster Stream (it's more like a pleasant easy going river)
While paddling toward Lobster Lake our pace was easy. We weren't in any particular hurry to arrive at a site but hopeful for a decent one that had ample shade and sun. Scanning the riverbank with each stroke my eyes peeled for critter paths or anything interesting not of humanmade. I saw what I called "not a Great Blue" as a bird took off quickly from tall grasses flying away from our location. About 100 yards up ahead I saw what I thought was a dried up old stick but as my eyes and brain focused in I explained "that's a Bittern!!"
The American Bittern - a wading bird in the heron family that is best known for the unique, loud, guttural call made by the male, which has resulted in it being given several nicknames, including ‘water belcher’, ‘thunder pumper’, and ‘mire-drum’. These are well-camouflaged, solitary birds that stand motionless amongst tall marsh vegetation or patiently stalk their prey.
Needless to say, I was thrilled to have not only seen one but to also get a picture as it hid stealthily!!
These days I don’t live by the alarm clock but I absolutely dislike missing those moments when the light breaks free from night’s tight hold.
It’s become a rhythm, a routine of mine & the local red squirrel must have gotten that memo too because Oy Vey this incessant critter alerted me each morning that it was time to get the frick up.
The local alarm clock aka Red Squirrel
By the third morning I’d completed my scientific data experiment … I let that critter scream and scream and scream, quite literally, as it sat directly outside my Big Agnes tent.
It seemed as though we’d bonded and it wanted was company, for me to exit my hideaway and join the awakening day. As soon as I reentered the sandy campsite the screaming would stop & its shenanigans began. Together, we watched the sun force its way higher into the sky.
Maybe these types of adventures have no real appeal to you but they’ve become a lifestyle choice for me as I relish in the simpler things like watching a little red squirrel knock down pine cones then scamper gleefully as they were collected; a bountiful harvest.
This is where my soul is the happiest as I experience nature in different shapes & forms.
Now that I’ve successfully lured you in I need to reel in my story & get to how this camping / fishing trip went.
After our arrival, a six hour drive, we still had a 3+ mile canoe trip out to a potential camping spots.
First views of Lobster Lake with Katahdin, Big Spencer and Lobster Mountains
Our vessel was an old Radison canoe that we’d recently picked up from someone who no longer wanted it. We invested hours refurbishing, cleaning & giving her a bit of TLC she desperately needed. She may be a bit ugly but we found her to be steady, light & mighty.
Setting out the winds were a breeze as we navigated the waterway, GPS coordinates as my guide to a hopeful site.
I knew by studying the map where we were and the first views of the lake didn’t disappoint.
Katahdin
“That’s Katahdin” in the distance I exclaimed wondering which Appalachian Trail (AT) thru-hikers were finishing their quest atop of her iconic summit waaay in the distance ahead of us.
The shoreline was diverse. Sandy beaches littered amply while rocky cliffs, boulder type uninviting sections banned you from egress.
The camp site we scored was on point; Ogden Point that is … “land ho”!
Our campsite is within a few paddles reach
My chore was to set up our kitchen area & tent while Eric forged for firewood. At our check in station we were informed that the ban was lifted that morning!
Note: You must check in & out at a gated station when you’re exploring within this area of North Maine Woods.
AND: The lake has only a few sites & they are NOT reservable; first come, first to set up your tent & claim your site. It is kind of exciting as you paddle hopeful and reminiscent of our time in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWAC) as we passed site after site after site that were taken only to finally score an epic site up on a cliff overlooking Ensign Lake.
Ironically, in the BWCA we’d almost given up hope as a group on the shoreline waved at us. I waved back sadly as there were only a couple of GPS coordinates left as options. Their waving became for vigorous & changed shape. It was more like no we aren’t simply saying “hey” but rather come this way.
As we approached they’d said they only stopped for lunch & the site was vacant and we should take it!
Whoooooo hooooo! A great site it was too!
First sunset
I'd find several heart shaped rocks around the shoreline
Fast forward, skipping the fishing & sunrises other guts of my story for the “pay it forward moment”. We were almost paces up as four fully loaded canoes headed towards our beautiful site.
I had to laugh because as I waved to them, in a gesture I thought was welcoming, all I got back was a wave and that sad face I must have made when I was in their exact situation.
Finally, one of the canoes got close enough to hear my upbeat offer “we’re packing up, come ashore, this site can be yours!”
That upside down frown flipped oh so quick as all four canoes landed on the sandy shore.
I was informed it was a bachelor party trip that made my heart melt faster than a warm sun; father of the to-be groom was in the canoe with his son. They quickly dove into the clear water for a swim giving us space to finish our packing. Just like that we’d shoved off in what we believed to be nearly 10-12 MPH directly in your face winds that created waves we’d rather not paddle but our stay was at an end.
Funny that those days prior it was pretty still but hey it’s all part of the adventure.
Each morning, you read about the red squirrel, I’d make coffee as the sun did its thing.
I’d then nudge Eric “time to go fishing”. We’d gather our gear & snacks then head to a deep hole.
We’d spend hours upon hours jigging in nearly 80’ of water.
They call it fishing not catching is the silly cliche.
Not even a bump so we headed for shallower waters to see if we could find some tasty White Perch.
We catch Yellow Perch all the time so these fillets were something new our culinary skills were interested in finding.
Still … nothing.
It’s a BIG lake this Lobstah with a little claw & big. Oodles of water and places to hide.
Speaking of hiding. We’d taken a few breaks from hours in the canoe to stretch our legs on shorelines that allowed. At one of those stops I eye-spied a fish tale sticking out from under a rock. Pointing it out to Eric he said it was a Hornpout aka Bull-head butt I was seeing. Knowing they’ve got barbs he snuck up on it gently & ever so quietly hoping to pinch its tail & snag but the fish was much quicker than he.
Hide & Seek with a Hornpout
As we paddled the shoreline of Big Island we saw a relic, a Boom Chain. They were used to attach the ends of logs together to make a log boom. Log booms were popular in the early years of Maine logging when logs were floated to sawmills. The boom contained the logs to prevent them from floating away. This chain is about 6 feet (2 meters) long.
Back in the canoe we’d had enough … time for lunch so we paddled back to our site.
She may be a bit weathered but she's still mighty
After lunch we decided to hike up Lobster Mountain. It’s a decently traveled trail by both humans & moose (I know because I saw lots of poop) that leads you to a pretty sweet view of the lake with a side trail that provides a view of the most northern portion of Moosehead Lake.
Parts of the trail are super chill while other sections are a bit more challenging and the elevation gain for such a short trail is decent but the sweeping view at the top makes it worth it!
Back at our site we set to fixing the fire so that when we came back from our evening jig only a quick flick & a toasty small controlled campfire we’d soon be seated around.
The late afternoon jigging was again a bust, staying until nearly dusk.
Tomorrow, we’d set out again but for another area on this lake, there had to be fish!
We were both hungry so I quickly boiled some purified Lobster Lake water for our Good To-Go dehydrated meals.
The sky was dark with the absence of manmade lights.
Loved the glow the sunset cast over our campsite
I’ve only seen dark star filled skies like this a few times before:
Death Valley, California
Northern Cascades, Washington
Boundary Waters Canoe Area, Minnesota
Colorado River Raft Trip, Arizona
Lobster Lake, Maine
It helped that the moon was in alignment with this trip as well, a waning crescent to almost new moon added to the almost rainbow feel to the Milky Way arch visible across the sky. The only thing missing was an appearance by lady aurora but I guess a gal can’t have everything.
BIG Dipper or Ursa Major or the Great KallyBear
A new day, new deep spot for jigging, same ol’ story.
Not even a bump.
We decided to get closer to shore and cast into the weeds & tall grasses that are not plentiful unlike the feisty Fallfish we kept catching.
Fallfish - often encountered when fishing for more desirable species and they sure have some fight!
This one I’d hooked into was intense with vigor as I reeled it closer to the canoe. Alas it wasn’t what I’d initially thought but that elusive White Perch “get it in the canoe!”
The game was afoot… “where did you cast?” I shared the location, always referring to the clock, so we could both perhaps hook into what we’d been seeking.
Cast
Reel
White Perch
Cast
Reel
White Perch
Cast
Reel
Nothing
Cast
Reel
Nothing
Cast
Reel
Nothing
…. a schooling fish they seemed to have moved out of the area
Using my HawkEye little bobber I located a drop-off that held fish so Eric started to jig in 10-12’ of water and was able to bring up two more White Perch.
We stayed in that general location for a long while only reeling in a few then our internal dinner bell as ringing so we noted the location wanting to come back in the morning.
Back at our campsite we lite the fire and settled in for another scrumdelicious Good To-Go meal with ample amount of flavor & zest that would fuel our bodies in absence of catching any noteworthy fish for sustenance.
AdventurewithKal sitting still, a scene rarely seen, sitting & contemplating "where the heck those Lake Trout are hiding and why they aren't biting?!" while my Good To-Go meal rehydrating
When we are up at the ol’ crack of dawn it’s complex to stay awake after paddling, jigging, scamper up a mountain, more jigging & paddling but the sky was taunting us with an allure we didn’t want to miss.
After gazing upwards into the vast universe for a spell we called it & snuggled in for the night. The air was crisp and perfect for tent sleeping. The fly was left open to allow for the nonexistent breeze but more importantly our tent faced the direction of the morning sun.
As the rays beamed brightly into the opening my little red squirrel friend started his “get your booty out of the tent” relentless calls. In my mind I giggled as I inch-wormed from my beautiful emerald green Enlightened Equipment quilt.
The sky was ever changing with interesting clouds sneaking between Big Spencer & Lobster Mountain
You can see the point of our campsite & the stillness of the midday that was upon us as we paddled back across waveless waters
Our preferred spot to sit back on shore
Each day was different but kinda sorta the same as we camped at the point.
You’re excited for what’s ahead knowing those things that are certain with moments that you recall similarities of adventures of fishing, overlanding, river trips, camping & shared experiences in our past.
My mind plays with these memories as I replay meals crafted, paddling, sand that takes over, careful sanitary practices, leaving no trace of our presence but as I like to say that smile across our faces.
Our trip was winding down, our final morning we were in no hurry as a check-out time simply did not exist so we headed back into the depths for another chance at catching a Lake Trout or some other fish.
One more attempt had us up early as whisps of fog swirled as we paddled, rounding the northern edge of the Big Island we encountered an interesting bank of fog that was holding tight in the Big Claw of Lobstah Lake ... in we go!
Skunked is what we called it when you aren’t in favor of the fishing … errr rather … catching vibes.
We’d read once that Lakers eat once every three days, folklore or urban legend we don’t know but after 3 1/2 unsuccessful days & six different attempts we reluctantly called it what it was “we got skunked”.
Back at our campsite we started the task of packing up after sharing our last meal & a beverage along the beautiful shoreline we called home for a few days.
That group I mentioned earlier in my story appeared as our final dry bags were being rolled & clipped closed.
The handoff complete to the group awaiting our site we shoved off in our trust Radison canoe back in the direction for which we came.
Winds weren’t cranky but they certainly weren’t friendly as decent sized waves splashed a bit as the warmth of the sun quickly dried drops that made it into the canoe.
Back into the river, they call a creek, we had a lot less wind but she let it known she wasn’t done with us just yet a couple of times gusting against our faces.
For giggles I kept a line out with a smaller lure that dove around 4-6’ to see what might be interested in my bait.
We were less than a mile from the launch when *BLAM* a decent strike bent my pole. I’d had it wedged securely but quickly dropped my paddle trading it for the reel I turned & turned to ultimately reveal a nice sized White Fish that we quickly put into our cooler.
The decision was easy … stop paddling & cast in that direction.
We actually chose to retrace our path turning the canoe about face as we drifted over that space.
Success!!
Another White Perch & then another!
We turned the canoe & I trolled as Eric slowly paddled over that area where the water held fish in her keep.
Yup, there’s another.
We did this trick about a dozen times before we finally called it for the simple reason … my fishing license just expired!
2PM on the day of our arrival & 2PM on the day of departure.
Whoot - Whoot White Perch!!
Eric's goal was to find these tasty White Perch on Lobster Lake & on day three we finally were successful!
With now nine fish we were happy to have somewhat redeemed ourselves in that final hour.
The paddle to the launch completed our trip but not entirely.
With our gear stowed & canoe strapped we were reviewing the map, a choice needed to be made having heard what was shared by the check-point station lady in charge … “ya’ don’t want to go back the way you came!”
All loaded and ready for the return trip
Reviewing our map, contemplating what the check-point station attendant shared; to go back the way we came or to complete the full loop there was a tap on the window, a young kid stood there looking at us.
He was in the need of assistance, his boat motor conked out. His family owns a camp up the river as they were headed out for some fishing but fate had other plans. About three miles as the crow flies up the river but a much longer road walk would've ensued. As luck had it, we gave him a ride back so he’d not have to walk; there’s no one around to help you but yourself is what we’d been told as we checked in days prior.
Our finale, fishing fun, kinda sorta delayed our river departure to have destiny met us up with a very thankful family in need.
Think of it… if we’d have not stayed to fish that extra bit, going back over the spot that released fish to us, they would have had to walk all the way back for help. I suppose it wouldn’t have been the worst, it was a nice afternoon, but a ride is much more better. All we asked as we said goodbye is that he pay it forward!
Our new friend and his father confirmed, "go that way, not the way you came, it’s a much smoother ride on these remote dirt roads".
Advise taken, we were pleased with their guidance as we neared the unattended gated station that requires you to use their call box and check-out with an agent. Just like that, remotely opened, she opened the gate and we were out.
We ended up passing through Rangeley, Maine just as the sunset squarely within familiar moose region.
With headlights on high beam we took it slow keeping our eyes peeled for those big critters wicked hard to be seen.
Thankfully, none were on the roadway nor the shoulders as we passed through their habitat cut by pavement taking us home.
My favorite find
IYKYK
Open you heart and it'll find you!
My collection over our trip I left on the point for the next group to enjoy
In the end, our fishing trip wasn't what we'd call a slammer but the experience of a new destination, dark skies on a beautiful lake and sweet campsite was truly wonderful
I hope you've enjoyed this AdventurewithKal as much as we did while exploring a new destination, Lobster Lake in the North Maine Woods.
#AdventurewithKal
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