No electric motors allowed, we rented a rowboat kept with many dozens of others on the reservoir shore, chain-locked to trees. Driving along the reservoir, you can see these boats back along edges of certain deep coves. I don't think Pepacton has any shallow. From those shelves I mentioned, we rigged with lead core line and a thin, ribbony spoon to row-troll a half mile to a promising shoreline where another angler fished in the nearing distance. We saw him hook up with a large frucus on the surface. He had cast a spinnerbait, and the bass he lost a second later seemed to be about three pounds. Before we got that far across, we passed the rower photographed above, greeted each other, and inquired about catch. He had a small brown trout of about 2 1/2 pounds on what they call razorbellies--herring.
The lead core was kindly lent us by the camp proprietor in Roscoe. Camping on the bank of the Beaverkill, I awoke well before first light the morning we departed for Pepacton. I didn't expect preparing breakfast would be so satisfying. The simplicity of cooking over fire proved to be one of summer's highlights. Once the bacon and eggs cooked sufficiently, only then I woke Matt. I must have slept real well because I felt great for the 45 minutes or so, temperature in the upper 40's, before we departed for the half hour drive to the reservoir.
This channel catfish was so white with spots it resembled a trout.