I had been itching to "get out there" for quite some time. I did not just want to go fishing, I wanted to go fishing someplace wild and undeveloped. I wanted to cast a line into Cape Cod's wilderness.
When on foot, fishing a more remote setting like this one typically involves quite a bit of walking. In these scenarios, the hike is the main attraction for me-everything else is just a bonus.
In this surfcasting report I hike and fish through 7 miles of Cape Cod wilderness, and play witness to a big white tail deer, coyotes, skunks, miles of pine forest, estuaries, an incredible sunset, and miles of lonely, desolate beach, which has existed in the same, undeveloped state for hundreds, if not thousands of years.
Mile #1
My hike first took me past a Native American burial site. From there I meandered through a scrub pine forest, walked alongside a vast estuary, and ultimately, into a hollow through the dunes.
There in the hollow I achieved a good view of the water, by looking north over the crest of a sand dune.
I surveyed the beach, looking for signs of life, and finding none, retreated, to continue my hike.
From there I headed south, wrapping around an expanse of estuary towards another pine forest.
I noticed how the marsh grass had taken on a bronze hue, characteristic of late summer/early fall. The bright green coloration which it held all summer long had faded, much like the tan on my skin.
Up ahead was a path which would bring me deep into the pine woodlands.
I walked down the path into the pines, left the marshland and dunes behind me (for the moment) and began mile number 2.
Mile #2
Protected from the wind by the pines I had an easier time hearing the birds and small mammals which inhabited this wood.
I even caught glimpse of a reddish squirrel, or perhaps a chipmunk, which was peeping at me, through a hole in one of the pines.
The path continued, as did I.
Eventually I reached the end of the forest and exited back into low lying dunes and past rosa-agosa bushes.
And there I began mile number 3.
Mile #3
With no sea walls in place the cliffs on my right were naturally eroding into the sea. Trees, bushes and other "woodland debris" had been knocked from their high pedestals by storms of winters' past.
It was a beautiful thing, to see nature's natural processes at work, undisturbed and unaltered by us humans, and our fear of beach erosion, and tendency to erect sea walls, which in the long run, causes more damage to the beach than erosion, which replenishes the low lying beach with new sand from the cliffs above.
From there I again turned to the south, crossing skinny saltwater streams which flushed towards the ocean from the upland marsh.
These streams are a hot bed for snails, baby crabs and countless other tiny organisms that are easy to miss, if you don't stop for a moment, and look closely.
The snails numbered in the thousands, if not tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands.
No doubt this tidal area was a hot spot for shellfish of many varieties.
I pictured ancient people, early European settlers and some modern day shell fishermen working this life-filled mud flat.
I had come far, but still had many more steps to go. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and with my iPhone turned off, I gauged I had an hour before sunset.
I continued on, and entered into another estuarine environment.
Animal footprints littered the area. I guessed I was seeing coyote prints, fox prints, coon prints, skunk prints and who knows what else.
I do know for sure, that there were plenty of deer around, based on all the deer prints.
I felt it was only a matter of time until I encountered a mammal of some sort, whether it be a coyote, deer or, god forbid - skunk!
Up ahead was another hollow through the dunes. I pushed onward to get a view of the ocean.
With the sun sinking still lower in the sky, I glanced quickly for signs of life like birds, breaking fish etc., and upon finding none, continued my hike.
From there I entered into yet another pine forest, onto a trail which would ultimately lead me to an incredible view of the fishing grounds.
Deeper into the forest I went, until I reached a fork in the trail. I chose the most slender of the two paths, and began ascending a lightly sloping incline which I felt would bring me to an overlook.
I felt as if I was close, and as I rounded a corner I could see water on the horizon. I was high above the beach, walking on a hill of cranberry bog and sand, perhaps 50-75 feet above the beach below.
I heard the buck before seeing him.
Below me and several yards ahead, a full grown adult whitetail buck stood in the bushes. I could see his antlers, long and twisted, pointing up and into the sky.
I saw the great deer an instant before he saw me. Then, upon recognizing that he was no longer alone, the buck bolted, darting into the woods and running by me from right to left.
What a sight! In all my surfcasting expeditions I have never before seen a whitetail buck.
Turning and looking to my right I realized I had made it. I was at a high point, which overlooked the fishing grounds ahead, where I would spend the rest of the evening.
It was a magnificent view, and feeling, atop this great sandy hill.
And so began my night of fishing Cape Cod's wilderness.
