My doubts about Gary Emms begin when he says jigging is the only way to catch brook trout from this small northwestern-Ontario lake. Misgivings increase when I'm nearly blinded by the flash of the spoon he ties on a Hopkins' about the size of a railway tie. Emms also warns us the lake is loaded with feed, and even jigging all day can mean a thorough skunking. Familiar with the perils of brook trout angling, I limber up a jigging rod, along with fellow anglers Gord Ellis and Lawrie Jeffrey. But first we each rig a set-line with a big dace, just in case.

I've always been a set-line man. I've caught some tremendous brook trout by simply setting two lines with live bait and waiting for a strike. Sure,I jig spoons now and then, but I get bored quickly and return to the waiting game and the comfort of a shoreline fire. So, with confidence resting firmly on my set-line, I rhythmically twitch a 1/4-ounce bronze Little Cleo in 7 feet (2.1m) of water, just off the sloping, cedar-lined shore. A half-hour of jigging makes my mind wander towards other activities, like fire building and coffee drinking. Of course, this is when a fish hits.

My stout jigging rod bends like a horseshoe, trying to absorb the powerful tugging. I fling off my gloves and reel furiously as the trout changes tactics and makes for the surface. A wide expanse of speckled hide flashes across the 10-inch (25 cm) hole before the potent thrust of a giant, square tail handily snaps my 8-pound-test line. My vocal disappointment is in perfect harmony with the chorus of groans from my angling comrades.

With shaking hands, I re-rig with a 1/3-ounce blue and silver Cleo and proceed to jig with renewed confidence. But the heavy-weight hardware of Gary Emms connects with the next fish: a speckled beast over five pounds (2.3 kg).

By noon, we've all had action. With three brookies hovering at the five-pound mark and one 2-pounder (.9 kg) on ice, we call it a day. Jigging accounted for every fish. Even though we all had set-lines and minnows, not one was touched.

To substantiate jigging's effectiveness, I revisit a lake near my home in Wawa. It's kicked me in the teeth on several occasions, but repeat visits are fueled by rumours of huge brook trout. Although the abundance of minnows tends to blind brookies to anglers' offerings, the proficiency of jigging hardware hits me like a 2-ounce Crippled Herring. I bring home three brook trout ranging from 2- to 5 pounds and release several, including one over-inflated football approaching six pounds (2.7 kg). I've been jigging ever since.

While jigs and plastics do a good job representing something a speck might eat, my favourite jigging lures are minnow-imitating spoons. But why will trout turn a grinning snout up at a real minnow, only to reverse direction and smash an imitation? Perhaps they strike out of aggression towards what looks like a foreign, swimming creature? Maybe they're simply intrigued by something different -- a potential meal that varies from their usual fare? A definitive answer is as elusive as a double-digit squaretail, but the fact remains that jigging hardware can be the key to more and bigger brookies.

In food-rich lakes, a jigging angler has a leg up for two reasons: with loads of food, brook trout grow to trophy size; and the flash of a jigged spoon is often the only way to entice a strike from fish inundated with minnows and invertebrates.

The first spoon I tie on is the venerable Little Cleo, but it's just one in a stable of proven producers. Brookies seem to favour long, narrow, flatlures, such as Tony Accetta's Mr. Champs, Hopkins' Shorty, Gibbs' Deadly Darter, and Crippled Herring. Shallow-water jigging means size options are wide open, from tiny 1/8-ounce spoons to anvil-like 2-ouncers, but I stick to mid-sizes from 1/4- to 3/4 ounce. A plain gold or silver finish is usually all it takes, but the added flash of red, blue, or green on a spoon is often the undoing of stubborn brookies.

Look down the hole and check out the lure's action before lowering it to jigging depth, just off bottom. Vary presentation from short twitches to long, aggressive pulls. Trout will let you know what piques their interest.

Jigging rods should be around two feet long and have enough flex to dampen a hard strike, yet with backbone to thread a thrashing brookie through an ice hole. A quality reel with a smooth drag is a must. Sub-zero temperatures, combined with snow and ice water, can play tricks on the best reels. Constantly check if your reel runs freely. A 20-inch (51cm) brookie hitting hardware in shallow water is more than a match for a frozen drag.

Spool up with 10- to 12-pound-test line and tie on a barrel swivel and a lighter leader. The lighter the line below the swivel, the better the lure action, but anything less than 6-pound test is pushing it. At the end of the 12- to 16-inch leader, attach a small round-end snap. The combination of swivel, leader, and snap prevents line twist and minimizes terminal tackle at the lure end. Although fused and braided ice-fishing superlines function well in freezing weather, monofilament's stretch is a plus when pulling spoons in shallow water. I think adding live bait spoils or severely alters the action of most lures. However, I've witnessed fellow anglers nailing brookies with tube jigs,grub bodies, and even spoons tipped with minnows, so it's hard to argue with success. While I prefer running lures clean, a small piece of worm doesn't effect the action too much and it provides the smell, sight, and taste of meat finicky brookies sometimes demand. On arriving at a lake, choose a likely area and sink at least a half-dozen holes per angler over a variety of depths and structure. Rig up, choose a hole, and start jigging. One of jigging's advantages over set-lines is moving from hole to hole and covering more water is easier.

Confidence plays an enormous part. Without it, jigging becomes repetitive and boring. Practise the time-honoured angling virtues of patience and persistence, and confidence comes in the form of hard-hitting squaretails.

When you start catching big, wild specks, releasing most of them is important to ensure healthy populations in future. Fortunately, jigging increases chances for successful release, because trout don't swallow the hook as deeply as when inhaling live bait.

The main disadvantage with jigging is we are unable to lounge around a fire and wait for a hit. Our only respite comes with the decisive strike of a metal-eating brookie. With light line and a small jigging rod, the smash and ensuing battle is enough to drive the chill from the coldest angler.

This article is printed with permission by Fish Ontario. Visit their website, http://www.fishontario.com, for more Ontario fishing information.

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