John’s Thoughts on the Day: We finished the Lake Champlain, NY trip at 1PM and had to drive east across Vermont and New Hampshire to reach our next stop, just shy of the Maine border in Errol, New Hampshire. All the roads we traveled were two lane roads and we soon were into our new routine of comparing our maps to my GPS and when necessary consulting Mikes GPS to keep the scent of obsessive compulsive fresh. Since all the roads runs through valleys, along rivers and through notches, you basically had a choice of  tacking west to north east or south to north east, through the terrain to effective move due east. (Editors note... It was a Rand McNally map, two Google Maps print outs and 2 different GPS systems. I think he even busted out the iPhone once or twice.)

Our travel across northern Vermont provided a buffet of sights that led me to formulate several, still unanswered questions and observations of odd sites. First question “where do all these damn people work?”. We passed house after house, after clutch of houses and through multiple small towns. Other than farming, I never saw any factories or office buildings. It was a warm sunny day in early June, everyone was out and about, but where did they all work? Even after you account for municipal and state employees there was not enough visible places of employment to remotely explain where everyone worked. Did they all drive down state? I would hate to think they drove an hour or more to work because of the first major discovery, THE ROADS IN VERMONT ARE TERRIBLE! Seriously, these were the worst roads I had ever driven. The roads in Iraq, after we bombed them, were better than these roads. I know they have harsh winters, blah, blah, blah, but what do they plow with, bulldozers?

We ran into one stretch that was under repair, they had dug down to dirt and gravel for a mile or two and left it that way, open to traffic. It’s a Vermont thing, the roads in New Hampshire were on balance better. The second major observation is that Saturday, June 9th is mandatory hay cutting and manure hauling day. Every single hay field was being actively cut when we drove by, literally every single one. This also held true in the farming parts of New Hampshire. Since you only need one person to drive the hay cutting tractor, all the other farm hands were driving massive 8 wheel tractors and hauling immense 4 wheeled cauldrons of manure down these two lanes roads and taking up one and a half lanes. They often appeared in pairs, perfuming the road as they sloshed down the road. We were never able to determine where all the manure was headed.

We crossed through Newport, Vermont, which was postcard gorgeous, it looked like a movie set with downtown facing the southern shores of lake Mephremagog. We pushed out of Vermont and into New Hampshire, the number of houses diminished and the scenery was incredible, glimpses of small lakes that were bluer than blue and small rivers that screamed to be fished appeared on both sides of the road. We passed the impressive Balsams Grand Resort on Lake Gloriette and the climbed up and through Dixville Notch before descending into the quiet town of Errol.

Errol, New Hampshire boasted two diners and a general store and one outstanding fishing/hunting/kayaking/snow machine emporium, where I could waste hours, if only we had hours to waste. We quickly secured our fishing licenses and then went to conduct reconnaissance of Lake Umbagog for the following mornings fishing excursion. The lake was gorgeous and fishy looking, we made arrangements to rent a canoe at the state park the following morning and headed back to town. As we headed down the road, we noticed an odd shape crossing the road, which turned out to be a mother porcupine and her baby ! Neither of us had ever encountered a porcupine in the wild before and the baby was a bonus. We had been trying to drive with extra vigilance because of all the “Moose Crossing” and other warning signs regarding moose on the road. Mike was obsessed with seeing and photographing a “swap horse” and we had noticed that any place boggy or wet on the side of the road was covered in moose tracks. Then, as if on queue, we saw two moose just inside the trees on the side of the road and we stopped to take a picture.  I hunt whitetail and out of habit am always scanning the terrain on either side of the road for deer, but when I saw these moose, it was still surprising how big they are. These two were young moose, but a white tail doe could almost stand under the belly of these moose! Mike did his best but the moose were skittish and disappeared into the forest. We headed back to town to grab dinner and turn in. We had a big day tomorrow, half a day fishing and then a 6 hour dive south, stopping to fish Massachusetts on the way. Three states would fall tomorrow !

Weather: Sunny and warm.

Methodology: Jam over 550 pounds of humans and several pieces of fishing equipment into an insanely unsteady canoe and try to find fish in a lake neither of us had been to before. All of that while trying to fend off some of the largest airborne insects I have ever encountered. I have had less blood drawn at the Red Cross!!

Guide Information: Motel Information: We didn't have a guide on this trip, so I am going to use this space to recommend a fantastic motel we stayed in while in Errol. It is the Errol Motel, right on Route 26. The place is owned and operated by Linda and Ricky Blais. These are hard working folks that are genuinely happy to see you, and are more than happy to tell you about the area and their motel. The place is nostalgic and right in the middle of anything you may have planned in the area.

http://www.errol-motel.com

Mike’s Thoughts on the Day: You know, after all of that driving, we did manage to squeeze in some fishing. It is amazing how many lakes sit on the border of two states, and we managed to find another one.

We thought our plan to rent a canoe from the state park was reasonable; after all, we had fished effectively from John's canoe several times. However, the aluminum canoe we rented did not have the width and stability of John's Old Town canoe. Every paddle stroke was a precarious balancing act to keep us out of the murky depths of Lake Umbagog. It was amazing that the sky could be that blue and yet the water was almost black. After fishing the clear water of Lake Champlain, it was amazing how little visibility the waters of Lake Umbagog offered.

We did manage to do a couple of laps around a small island 300 yards off the launch point. Snap a few photos, catch a couple of smallies and then head back to the docks. It was clear that the 3 hours we allocated to fish this lake was not nearly enough, but we had miles to travel to get to our next charter.

Upon reflection, this segment of the trip was as much about the adventure as it was the fishing. The sights, sounds and stories are what we have been telling since we got home. Sure we traveled to New Hampshire / Maine to fish, but the experience of getting there was much more memorable than the fishing. A couple of examples...

John and I found it very difficult to check in at home via phone. Cell service was very poor, at best, and non-existent in Errol. When we asked some of the locals about this, we were advised that there was a spot just east of town that you could drive to and get one bar. The instructions were to drive east and stop on the side of the road just past a blue house. It seems that the topography of the mountains created a "funnel" that allowed cell reception. We tried this on the way to Lake Umbagog, and found it worked just as described.

After all of the moose signs, we were obsessed with seeing moose. We searched high and low to even see one. We thought we had missed our chance with the juvenile pair John mentioned above. After fishing Umbagog, we pointed the truck west to begin the trip to Massachusetts when we spotted 4-5 cars pulled over to the side of the road. We slowed to make sure there wasn't an accident and then we found out why everyone was stopped. A young moose was standing in a bog, just off the road, having a late breakfast. The photo does not provide any frame of reference, but I can tell you that that was one large critter.

I think there may be some kind of existential reminder in all of this. Whatever the plan, whatever the goal, you have to take the time to appreciate the journey, because in this case, the journey was much more memorable than the goal of fishing.