As a family we had been planning to take a trip to New England for a couple of years. In July that time arrived. While it was far from a fishing trip, as family vacations usually are, I found it helpful that I carry a 5wt fly rod and reel with me on a regular basis. Admittedly I threw in a couple extra fly boxes and an 8wt, just in case some saltwater availed itself. Our road trip would cross through Ontario, New York, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and finally Ohio. While these states claim some very famous rivers, those would have to wait for another trip.

When I plan a fishing trip, I dive deep into what local waters there are, fish surveys, area fly shops, fishing reports, etc. Not really knowing when the opportunity would present itself on this trip, or where it would happen, had me packing for some general ideas and being ready for the opportunity if the time came. The first opportunity came in Vermont. After buying a 24 hour license, the family dropped me off to spend some time on a river not terribly far from our Ben and Jerry’s factory tour. Not knowing if there was a fly shop around, I took a guess where to fish and with what fly. Sometimes we just strike out as anglers. I was sure they were in there, but I suppose unless I go back, I will never know. Hours later, as we almost crossed into New Hampshire, another opportunity presented itself. The White River is a relatively large river and is at its widest before it meets the mighty Connecticut River. It was beautiful, clean water. I waded across the entire river and found some really deep pools where I could see all the way to the bottom. The smallmouth were very large, and very picky, but I was excited to have the opportunity.

That evening we stayed in New Hampshire, at the foot of the Green Mountains. I was sure there were plenty of native brook trout in those mountain streams, but we had plans and pressed on. After visiting Franconia Notch State Park, which I highly recommend, we went to a local lake to have lunch. With opportunity knocking, I purchased my New Hampshire 24 hour fishing license. As I waded into the very clear, very clean lake I wondered how many people had done the same during their family trip. I fished until it was about time to leave without catching a thing. In an effort to not get skunked I threw on a tried and true double nymph rig. I casted the rig out into the wind swept cove and almost immediately my line went tight. Then again. Then again. And again. First a beautiful native brook trout, then a really colorful yellow perch, then another trout which earned a long distance release, and then another perch. Both fish remind me of Michigan. Remind me of home waters. When it appeared my time was up, I waded back to shore, loaded into the truck, and onto Maine.

It pleased me greatly to have a valid New Hampshire license crossing into Maine, not knowing what was in store next. We enjoyed some great pizzas after checking into our waterfront inn. With a little room left for ice cream, we walked a short distance to the local ice cream shop. Of course I chose Giffords “Fly Fishing Fudge” . I was already starting to appreciate Maine. We walked the waterfront and met a Mainer with a yellow lab. We exchanged pleasantries and right as we were getting ready to continue our walk, I asked “where can I find some fish”. I hit a nerve, and had found a wealth of information. My new friend pointed me to a spit of land across the bay and told me what I needed to do to catch a striper. More importantly gave our family some intel about where to go swimming the next day! With waning daylight I bought my Maine license, was given grace to leave for fish, and crossed the bridge to get to the other side of the bay. I didn’t connect with any fish that night, but it was a joy to watch them feed out of casting distance.

The next day we took a little drive to Baxter State Park. If you plan to go to Maine, go here. It is an enormous park with endless recreational activities. We enjoyed a leisurely drive to a natural granite water slide. After a dusty lunch by the road, we made our way back to the entrance. We spotted a juvenile bull moose on the way back, which was another highlight of the trip. The family agreed to stop at a pond on the way back so I could fish. At Baxter State Park you can rent a canoe for $1 an hour, so naturally I dropped a dollar in the pay box and off I went. It was bittersweet dropping that dollar. On the one hand I knew I had a limited amount of time. On the other hand, I needed a time limit or I may have never come back before dark. Using the same nymph rig that brought me success in New Hampshire, I boated a decently sized brook trout. Feeling fulfilled in that moment, at the foot of Mt. Katahdin, I paddled back to shore to continue what would finish to be one of my favorite family trips. Not because of the fishing, but because of the stories we all made during those 3,012 miles. I think I need to go back for some unfinished business though…maybe home waters someday.