The e-mail arrived through my website with an obscure subject line: My Secret Fishing Spot.
Initially, I was convinced this was spam, but, who could resist checking?
The e-mail address was unknown raising my curiosity further. The message simply stated:
“If you want to catch massive fish in a hidden Yukon lake, follow these directions: head south on the Alaska highway past Johnson’s Crossing, turn left at … you won’t be disappointed, John”.
You don’t think I would repeat the directions do you?
I read the e-mail a couple of times and then let it sit, convincing myself it was a hoax.
Over the week at work, my mind would wander to thoughts of this secret lake. Perhaps this was one of those lakes with a healthy, self-generating stock of ravenous Rainbows or scrappy Arctic Char.
I had to find out.
I drove south following the meticulous directions into a densely wooded area, where I was to leave my car. I pulled my packed, ice-fishing sled down a small unmarked path along the shore of a little creek. I walked for 10 minutes as per the directions and came upon a small clearing that opened into a little lake.
Catching my breath, I started scanning the lake in detail. I noticed on the far side of shore a small disturbance that was sure to be a set of older ice-fishing holes. I drilled two holes nearby and set up my lures, one with small shrimp and the other with a five of diamonds.
Not knowing the species, size or action, I settled into a cup of tea and some cookies. It certainly was an obscure little lake, in the middle of nowhere with very little fishing pressure and the right kind of depth and fishing structure.
John could be letting me into something special or he could be wasting my time.
Not a minute later, my line tightened and the rod doubled over. Never have I experienced the strength and aggressiveness of a fish like this. I let it run at least seven times trying to keep the fish from taking all my line.
I was sure it was a beaver until I bent low to the hole and noticed the flecks of silver streaking past. With the 15-pound test working to the limit, beads of perspiration streaming down my face; this was the battle of my career.
I was both cursing John and screaming euphorically at the same time.
The fish and I struggled for over an hour with neither of us gaining ground. With the light starting to set over the hills, I needed resolution. Using every last bit of strength, I pulled this fish as hard as I could only to have everything come to a sudden stop.
I jumped at the hole not knowing what to expect. As I stared down the hole all I could make out in the dwindling light was a round silver nose, a gaping toothy-mouth and a set of eyes fixed directly on mine.
This massive, beautiful fish was stuck, suspended, smack in the middle of this eight-inch hole. I dropped my rod, reached down the hole to release the lure and gently pushed the fish back into John’s lake.
I quickly packed up my things and headed back to the car. Despite a return e-mail, I’ve never heard from John again, nor have I returned to that special lake. I’ll leave these magnificent fish to John, knowing that I was let into a special Yukon secret.
