Destination: "The Pot"
The Groundhog River can satisfy any angler's need for a wilderness fishing fix.
By: Peter Wood
The "Pot" was calling. I quickly changed my telephone-answering message to "Gone fishing," locked the door, and pointed the truck north for the drive along Hwy. 11 to Kapuskasing.
The Pot, a granite-rimmed pool of the 225-mile northward-flowing Groundhog River, is a gathering spot for just about every game fish in this rich system. In addition to pike, walleye, and smallmouth bass, the Pot is home to big sturgeon. Considering the possibilities, I was expecting this remote river to be extraordinary.
The Pot is a fish sanctuary from May 1 to July 15, so I planned a three-day trip for late September with local guide Dave Barbour, who met me in the early morning darkness of Kapuskasing's Comfort Inn parking lot.
After a 20-minute drive, we arrived at a well-used boat launch sloping into the Kapuskasing River. We'd follow the "Kap" 25 miles north to where it joins the Mattagami and Groundhog Rivers on their journey towards James Bay. Soon after our sunrise launch, the bow was cutting through the glass-calm water. Over the next three days, conditions followed a similar pattern: glass smooth at sunrise to whitecaps at lunch, then back to wind-whispered riffles by sunset.
With Barbour's 20 hp motor and open aluminum boat, the run was cold, but the views along the way kept me busy. This vast area's abundant wildlife came alive at first light. An eagle watched us from atop a spindly spruce and annoyed flocks of honking Canadas took flight.
Approaching Remi Creek, Barbour pointed to the southern edge and speculated it might hold the next world-record pike or perch. He's caught sturgeon and walleye at this location, too, so we stopped to fish it. Anchoring below a deep hole, we set out circle hooks embedded in halves of river chub and 1-ounce bell sinkers for sturgeon, but a greedy school of suckers continued to steal our baits.
Leaving the Remi, we continued northeast along the Kap to its junction with the Mattagami, then headed south to where the Mattagami joins the Groundhog, which wends its way through granite and endless forest.
Here, we headed up the Groundhog towards the Pot. Barbour never hesitated as to which side of a large rock or sand bar to steer towards. Hiring a knowledgeable guide for this fishing adventure, as numerous channels and small islands greeted us at each bend, was a wise choice.
Barbour had to step out in shallow sections to push us along several times. In deeper sections, he turned the boat around, tilted the motor to shallow drive, and hit reverse. August and September are low-water periods on this river. This should be taken into consideration when planning your expedition.
A Magical Spot
After we negotiated three shallow channels, the river widened into what seemed more like a small lake than a river. Barbour pointed to a cow moose grazing in the water. Deciding our presence was not to her liking, she trotted towards the dense cedars.
Water depth varied from ankle deep to over-your-head holes. Peasized gravel to boulders the size of a house lined the bottom. The shoreline had vast stretches of black spruce and thick stands of cedar. A beach of rocks, logs, and stumps hovered below the high-water mark.
Rounding one last bend, the sound of the motor echoed off the rock walls ahead, as we edged closer to the legendary Pot. Along the smooth edge of partly submerged boulders, a channel sprayed a plume of white, hinting at the water's speed.
A Varied Menu
Barbour steered toward a slowermoving pool on the west side to start a quick drift along the river's edge. I promptly lost three jigs on three casts. Barbour, on the other hand, landed two walleye on two casts. Grabbing a second rod with a 3⁄8-ounce jig, I immediately hooked a chunky walleye. We continued to pull out walleye after walleye, many over 24 inches.
"Still want to catch some sturgeon?" Barbour asked.
"Yup," I replied, changing rods and tackle again. With still no signs of sturgeon after 30 minutes, it was back to big walleye, feisty smallmouth, and two 30-inch pike. We surmised the sturgeon had scattered up and down the immense Groundhog system.
All too soon, it was time to make the long run back to Kapuskasing. We didn't want to be out on the river after sunset.
Two more days fishing different areas of this northern river yielded pike, perch, walleye, or bass with nearly ever y cast . Indeed, the Groundhog was extraordinary, and I will return again to explore its wilderness angling opportunities and its elusive sturgeon (now strictly catch and release).
Getting There
Kapuskasing is nearly the same distance by air from Thunder Bay, Sault Ste. Marie, Sudbury, and North Bay. Driving the 853 kilometres from Toronto takes 9 to 10 hours via Hwys. 400, and 11.
The Trip
Guided exploration of the Groundhog River for walleye, pike, smallmouth bass, and sturgeon.
Transportation
Take the Gurney Rd. off Hwy. 11 to a six-way intersection and veer left onto the wide, gravel Fred Flatt Rd. approximately 12 km to the launch at the southeast end of the bridge. Watch for mining and lumber trucks.
Accomodation
The Comfort Inn in Kapuskasing (705-335-8583). There are lots of other accommodations. For these and other services, visit www.kapuskasing.ca/portal/en/kapuskasing/tourism.
Checklist
- Rain wear and warm layers for showers and frosty mornings.
- 3/8-oz black or orange jigs and minnows for walleye and bass.
- 1- to 2-oz weights, circle hooks, and river chubs for sturgeon.
North 49°48’5852
West 82°00’0535
UTM WGS84
Zone 17U E427987 N5517959
Contact Information
Ontario's Wilderness Region
76 McIntyre Rd.,
Schumacher, Ontario P0N 1G0
1-800-461-3766
www.ontarioswildernessregion.com
David Barbour
Contact for occasional guided excursions.
Kap Outfitters
Peter and Terry Martin
10 Erie St.
Kapuskasing, Ontario P5N 2C6
