Trip Report: Backpacking, Packrafting & Fly Fishing in the Adirondacks

During the yo-yo-like dance between late summer and early fall, I took advantage of a perfect weather window and headed way north for some fly fishing in New York's Adirondack mountains, home to the largest publicly protected natural area in the continental US. The unique patchwork of public and private land is not well known outside the Northeast, though bigger than the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, the Great Smokies, and Glacier National Parks combined. Spanning six million acres, within which lies nearly 30,000 miles of rivers and streams and the 46 Adirondack High Peaks, the ADK seemed the perfect destination for a fall getaway.

And a great excuse to test some new gear, including the new NRS Aster packraft, a new fly rod, and of course, a proper hiking backpack. Most of the lake fishing opportunities I’ve had in Pennsylvania offer predominantly warm-water species of fish (bass, sunfish, etc). Traveling further into New York’s high peaks would deliver some 3,000 lakes framed by mountains and filled with brook and lake trout.

A mild weather forecast filled me with some optimism and saved me from packing my hiking backpack with too many heavy layers. Still, the addition of even a minimal tackle selection and the raft itself made for one of the heaviest backpack loads I’ve needed to carry for such a short duration of time. Lucky for me, the route I picked wasn’t much more than five miles each way, with minimal elevation gain thanks to a trailhead far from the main roads.

The hike-in was minimally scenic—a green hallway typical of East Coast trails that paralleled a creek flowing from the lake above. At the trail’s creek crossing, I took a break to look for some brookies, but found only eager dry-fly-eating creek chubs.

Following the lake’s loop trail, I passed a number of campsites and lean-to shelters until I found the perfect site with level access to the water’s edge, complete with a wide flat rock to serve as my packraft dock. Dropping the pack off my back, I unrolled the raft and attached its inflation bag–an impressively effective tool that needed all of five minutes to squeeze the necessary PSI’s of mountain air into the raft’s bright blue chambers and floor.

With some practice and study, finding trout in moving water becomes somewhat formulaic: a pocket of calm water next to a quick flow, or the edge of a fallen tree giving overhead protection from predatory birds. On a lake, much of the visual cues needed to locate fish on acres of stillwater nearly vanish in total without instruments like fish-finding sonar systems (yes, it’s a thing). All of this is to say that I don’t really know how to fish for trout on stillwater unless they’re steadily rising to grasshoppers on the surface.

Searching edges of depth changes and near fallen trees, I cast out a variety of flies to entice the fish I was looking for. And yet, found only hungry sunfish striking the baitfish imitations each time. Waning sunlight has a way of creating a hunger for a freeze-dried bagged supper, so I paddled back to shore to get camp set up.

With the morning’s camp coffee and oatmeal rations consumed, I set back out onto the lake to cover more water before packing it all up. An overcast rolled in, which should have increased my odds of hooking up with a brook trout or lake trout–both char species technically, but belonging to the same salmonids family brown and rainbow trout are classified under.

The day’s breeze certainly challenged my efficiency paddling the packraft, but if I could point its bow at the shore with the wind blowing just right, I could cruise shorelines and throw cast after cast like a guided river drift boat. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any more luck than I did the previous day, but certainly racked up plenty of bluegill sunfish brought to hand. Respect due to these little guys though–I might have been disappointed they were the “wrong fish,” but they answered many of my casts and gave my line a good tug.

Read on for a look at the new gear I put to the test on this ADK adventure.

The Gear I Tested

NRS Aster Packraft

Pros: Super durable 210-denier floor material for hard use
Cons: Heavier and less packable than other options on the market
Price: $545

The most minimal model in the NRS packraft lineup weighs in at 6 pounds and packs down to a roll roughly sized at 20” by 7.5”, making the Aster a great little closet-storable raft for any urban or small-domicile dweller. Inflation with the included inflation bag will take a dozen or fewer cycles in an impressively short 5-7 minute span. Available in standard and extra-large models for different-sized paddlers or cargo needs.

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Nation Fishing Co The Classic Rod

Pros: Short packed length and durable travel tube
Cons: On the pricier end of the spectrum
Price: $600

I never thought that a normal four-piece, nine-foot five-weight fly rod was a bulky piece of gear to carry, but the combination of Nation’s six-piece design and a robust Repreve-wrapped rod tube (furnished with many lash points) make it extremely well suited to travel by air, land, and sea. Additional rods with the same six-piece construction are available in other weights and lengths, from a little 7’6” 3-weight creek rod to a striper-worthy 9’ 9-weight.

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Osprey Atmos AG 50L

Pros: Comfortable suspension system with good airflow
Cons: Limited lash points on outer pack
Price: $315

A solid platform for a weekend jaunt or even lightweight loads for multi-day loop routes. Its Antigravity suspension system will work hard to support the weight of a few too many creature comforts and keep more efficient packers balanced while they crush mile after mile of trail. Tall side pockets, hip pouches, and a multi-compartment lid provide no shortage for the hyper-organized backpacker to practice their craft.

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