A couple weeks from now I’ll be flying to Maine, and because I’m told the landlocked Atlantic Salmon bite on Grand Lake Stream is largely finished, I’m focusing on the smallmouth bass in West Grand lake.

Which means I can leave the waders, wading boots and a lot of other gear at home (nobody who travels with a 2.75 year-old argues against traveling light).

It also means digging out (and re-lining) a few of my (ahem) vintage Abu-Garcia casting reels and Cardinal spinning reels — old reels that work as well as the day they came from the factory, and this despite a lot of use back in my Bay Area days.

It also means an online trip to Bass Pro Shops (finesse worms, hooks, line — and a pair of those topwater poppers that turn smallmouth bass fishing into a spectator sport).

A visit to Bass Pro Shops is like a day at a carnival; everything’s larger (and louder) than life, and the copy is brazenly over-the-top — yet somehow lacking in pretension, which makes it entertaining rather than irritating.

After all, everyone in fly fishing “reveres” the Adams dry fly, but if Kevin Van Dam used one to win a tournament, it would be “Guaranteed to attract bone-crushing strikes via its exclusive “multi-hacklepoint” design that in lab experiments generated a feeding frenzy every time.”

The Fishing Grounds

West Grand Lake, Maine

Check out those dropoffs (I sometimes launch from the little dock in the bottom cutout)

We’ll be staying on the little peninsula in the satellite photo — in rustic old cabins lounging beneath the trees — and every good stillwater fisherman has already noted the shallow water areas and the dropoffs to deeper water.

Some days I’ll simply rig a drop shot worm or a topwater on a casting rod, push one of the small kayaks into the water, and fish my way along the dropoff which runs off the bottom of the photo.

It fishes every bit as good as it looks — especially in those places where big rocks can be found at the bottom of the dropoff (yes, I know where those rocks are).

It’s lazy fishing made all the sweeter by a steady stream of smallmouth bass, who are cranky enough to turn the kayak around, then glare at you with those red eyes once you’ve landed them.

The triangle-shaped offshore shallow area on the left seems hit or miss, though when it’s on, the fish are bigger.

The island at the top hasn’t ever produced anything but small fish, despite the fact the upper shallow area is something of a gateway to a large, shallow (presumably food-filled) bay.

Some mysteries, it seems, aren’t meant to be unraveled.

Other days, we’ll load up one of the Grand Laker canoes and head out for more promising fishing grounds (made so by the distance we have to travel to get there), and no, I’m not producing maps to those.

Clearly, this is an Underground fishing vacation of a wholly different kind, and while this may be the first Maine vacation where I experience anything approaching reliable Internet access, I’m not promising daily reports.

See you in Maine, Tom Chandler.