This last weekend the crew headed out on the annual mission we call Smeltapolooza. The little buggers were elusive this year and the final weigh in of our catch rang up at 0.0. We were not alone though. It seems that no one else was having much luck either. Perhaps it was the unusually mild temperatures, or unfavorable barometric pressure, maybe the little guys had a big breakfast before we got there, who knows. But that’s Smelting and you know it going in. 

Jim's Smelt Camps

Seconds before the"pot holder"sticks on the woodstove top burst into flames

Shrimp ala Propane

Having said that, we still consider the trip a great success. We did after all eat “well”. Troy’s new hot cheese dip, then garlic shrimp, deer/moose burgers, marinated sirloin tips…a four pound block of aged cheddar, all served with traditional side dishes: Chips, beef jerky, and a particularly fine bag of cheezy poof balls.

Jimmy making the rounds with 4lbs of cheddar

Bambi & Bullwinkle

Monsters Of Fishing Brewing Company’s Smeltapolooza 2010 Amber Ale was served by creator Dean. Thanks to The Hop Shop for keeping Dean on the straight and narrow with his brewing. It came out damn good.

The Amber Ale

Jimmy still wants pizza delivered

nuff said

Really the only unfortunate incident of the whole trip came as we were packed up and heading off the ice to catch our ride. Seems I got into a bit of a scuffle with my rolling cooler as I was pulling it up the (steep, slippery) incline of the gangway that leads up off the river to the bank above. I don’t know who started it and witnesses opinions vary. I contend that it wasn’t me and my cooler was being belligerent going up the ramp. All I know is words were exchanged and next thing I know me and the cooler were locked in a death match. Last thing  I remember is looking up the ramp at Troy at the top and he was just shaking his head slowly back and forth as if thinking to himself  “ok, this is going to be ugly”.

Well me and the cooler tangled and cart wheeled backwards down the ramp and wound up in a heap on the river ice. I’m pretty sure I had the upper hand on it for awhile, after all I weigh in at 178 lbs and the cooler at 10lbs at that point and, I clearly had the reach advantage. But, ultimately the cooler rallied and wound up pinning me at the bottom for the win. Fortunately it didn’t do any damage to me, and I managed to bust off his latch in the process. We made up after that though, and I even promised to pay for the repairs to his latch.

The Monsters Of Fishing annual tradition of Smeltapolooza is on, and the first and often most complicated step, is complete. That is, clearing a weekend that works for everyone. For the second year in a row the Monsters Of Fishing have managed to clear the same weekend for the overnight assault. This will again be……..Valentines Day weekend! Yes we all have spouses or significant other’s but, we are talking about Smeltapolooza here!  Now it’s just a matter of tying up some details. Renting the shacks, hotel rooms, taxi van from hotel to river and back (no operating heavy equipment on this outing), food selection, beverage stockpiling. There is no fishing equipment to bring with smelting. The lines are strung up in your shack, and bloodworms for bait are available there. This means valuable space and weight that might normally be taken up by fishing gear, is now available for important life support equipment like, larger coolers, and propane stoves for cooking various meat items (vegetables are strictly prohibited), footballs, and that inflatable doll someone always sneaks in……

We go up along some tributaries that run into the Kennebec River around Bowdoinham, Maine.  There are a bunch of shack operations with names like River Bend, Sonny’s, Chubby Leighton’s, Jim’s….etc. We do Jim’s most years for some reason.  Most smelting “Camps” are a row or two of shacks, ranging from a few to 20 or 30 of them, along the frozen edge of the rivers.  Little villages if you will, wired with electricity for a couple of light bulbs in each shack, and some bulbs spaced outside to see where you’re walking. You can fit 3, 4, maybe five people in a shack all depending on its size. There is a small woodstove and wood provided in each shack and it is possible to get it roasting hot inside, even if it’s zero outside. A few beat up metal folding chairs round out the furnishings….and that’s it. Two “race holes” have been cut inside the shack, one on either side. They are actually a rectangular slot about 16” or so wide that runs the length of the side of the shack. A board is hung from the ceiling over the race holes on both sides by bungee cords, and 15 or so lines with sinkers and hooks are wrapped up on each board waiting to be unwrapped, baited, and lowered into the hole. Bloodworms are cut into pieces and hooked on. At some point the lines might start moving. That’s when you yank the little smelt up. You fish for a 6 hour tide—either the incoming or outgoing.

Sometimes they say you can fill a five gallon bucket in a couple hours—-then sometimes the only time a line moves is when you take a stick, and while Dean is sitting, staring solemnly down at the still and quiet race hole, you slowly, and without detection, reach up and over his head and jiggle a line with your stick.  Sometimes it’s like he got hit with an electric shock of some kind and he starts grabbing at lines and hauling them up, all yelling and stuff, only to find them empty of course.  The number of times he can be suckered with this seems to be directly proportional to the number of empties in his corner. Trying to not bust out laughing is the hard part—especially when he gets suckered in for the eight or ninth time in a row…… I mean, come on!…..

More updates to follow as Smeltapolooza 2010 takes off.

Tasty Too!!