For 25 years, ever since I first picked up a fly rod, I’ve dreamed of fishing Labrador. This is where the giant brook trout that once filled Maine’s waters still roam free — where the odds of landing a trout of a lifetime aren’t just wishful thinking, they’re practically guaranteed.
Unbelievably, I just returned from that very trip with my wife Stac and eight of our friends and clients. This was a journey I never thought I’d actually make, but they say when you dream, you should dream big — and Labrador is called The Big Land for a reason.
I remember being at a sportsman’s show with my dad 25 years ago. We stopped at a booth to check out a lodge in Labrador — the one with the giant trout. I dreamed about this for years, but eventually reality set in. There were responsibilities — kids, house payments, life. But with time and saving, all things are possible.
Fast forward to July 24 of this year: 10 of us land at Igloo Lake Lodge in Labrador. It’s hard to describe the feelings we were all experiencing. I was choked up, holding Stac’s hand, thinking, “We made it — together.”
Brandon was a little teary-eyed, and Zach and Bryan had dreamt of this since they were 17, watching “The New Fly Fisher.” We were all glued to the plane’s windows, amazed at all the water surrounding the lodge as we came in for landing.
Igloo Lake Lodge sits in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by endless water. I can’t imagine they’ve even begun to explore all that’s out there. As we got off the plane, the outgoing guests were being loaded on. We were taken to the main lodge, served an amazing breakfast sandwich, then introduced to our guides and sent out to fish.
You’re assigned a guide for the week, and each outing you fish a new location. Our first stop was some pocket water that led into a section of rapids. The water was dirty from recent rain and wind, but the fish were still eating.
Stac and I both threw streamers, covering water. I waded around while Stac fished the tail of the pool, where she hooked and lost two fish. I managed to land three brook trout — 12, 14, and 16 inches. I was happy to get my first fish in Labrador, even though they weren’t monsters.
At 11:30 a.m., we all headed back to the lodge for lunch and to hear how everyone did. No one else had even hooked a fish, but spirits were still high. We checked into our rooms, unpacked and geared up for the afternoon.
This time, we headed farther downriver to a promising-looking run. Two separate shoots of fast water fed into a pond — one deeper and faster than the other, but both held fish. I was upstream fishing pocket water, giving Stac the better water, when I looked over and saw she was into something big.
I started running toward her just as the guide netted the fish. Stac started screaming and jumping with joy. I was yelling, “Don’t let it go — I want a picture!” As I got closer, I saw it — a huge brook trout. Not the biggest of the week, but an incredible way to start things off. The guide estimated it was 6 pounds — a true trophy.
Stac gave me the run next, and I threw a streamer. Instantly, I had a fish on. Not as big as hers, but a solid 18-inch, 3-pounder. I tied on a red-eyed leech pattern and stripped it through the same area, and hooked into something entirely different. We didn’t see it at first, but it made four big runs. As it came near the net, we finally got a look: a massive northern pike. It measured 35 inches.
All those fish came from the same run. I was fascinated that pike and brook trout were coexisting like that. The afternoon flew by with more pike, and before I knew it, it was 4:30 p.m. — time to head back for dinner and stories.
Stac and I were on cloud nine. She had caught a giant brook trout, and I had landed some nice ones along with the 35-inch pike. I expected everyone else to be just as excited when we got back — but that wasn’t the case. There were some long faces, and some doubt about how the trip was going.
The fish were why we came, but sitting around that lodge table, sharing stories and planning tomorrow’s strategy with people who understood exactly why we’d traveled so many miles to stand in cold water — that’s what we’d remember long after the photos faded.
What some folks were missing is that it wasn’t just about the fish. We were in an amazing place, with amazing people. The fish brought us all together.
And this was only day one of six — so much still lay ahead for everyone.
