Canoe-Fishing
NEW YORK RIVERS AND STREAMS
describes how to select a canoe, how to handle and fish from a canoe, how to select the right fishing tackle, and how to plan a canoe-fishing trip. Provides "guided" canoe-fishing trips on 25 rivers and streams throughout New York State.  Features illustrations, maps and dozens of color photographs.
 

"Canoe-Fishing New York Rivers and Streams" is a well-thought-out, well-put-together treatise on the subject. Well-done book, and the pictures and illustrations are top notch. New York Outdoors magazine

Most canoeists don't fish and most fishermen don't canoe. But either would like this book. Press and Sun-Bulletin, Binghamton, NY

This unique publication is illustrated with 39 color photographs plus drawings and maps leading you to some of the finest canoe-fishing opportunities in the state. The Recorder, Amsterdam, NY

Keesler gives you his homestyle renditions of adventures on 25 rivers and streams and sometimes makes suggestions for one and two-day outings. He tells you exactly what he caught and how, and in some cases what he didn't catch. By the time you finish reading "Canoe-Fishing New York Rivers and Streams," you'll be reaching for the telephone to make a date with your fishing buddy to run over at least one of the 25 waters described. Finger Lakes Times, Geneva, NY

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Addendum
Chapter 9 - Northern Rivers and Streams

Mixed Emotions on Fall Stream
After a morning of fishing Piseco Lake from a wide-bodied powerboat with friends and relatives, I launched my 10 foot canoe from the beach near our cabin at the Irondequoit Inn at the north end of the lake. A short paddle along the shoreline put me into the mouth of Fall Stream.  A bass and a pickerel took a spinner from the first pool. Fifteen minutes and no fish later, I  carried canoe and gear past a small waterfalls and across a road to a flat-water mountain stream.
    As I paddled upstream away from the lake and road, the sounds of  civilization disappeared. I could hear the wind caressing the trees and the water pushing ahead of the canoe.  A red-winged blackbird and a kingfisher scolded.
    Blue sky and white clouds reflected in the alder-lined stream ahead. Except for a duck or beaver, It was no place for man or beast to get to the stream. Or so I thought.  Around the very next bend a big deer was standing in the alders drinking from the stream.  When it saw me, it turned slowly,  and with each leg lifted high, seemed to tiptoe through the alders, disappearing into the woods. I was astounded until I discovered a beaten path through the alders that was no more than six inches wide.
    Everything about the day was perfect. I felt so good, so relaxed, I could hardly stand it. My reverie was interrupted by a resounding splash; a beaver no doubt.  A moment later the canoe bumped something big under the water. My heart jumped into my throat. I'm not sure what the "gut reaction" part of my brain was thinking, but for a few seconds it took control of my emotions. I felt a little foolish when the beaver surfaced again and a log bobbed near the surface beside the canoe.
    A couple of miles upstream when I entered  Fall Lake, minnows were jumping  near a stand of reeds.  A few casts with a spinner produced a couple of swirls on the surface but no fish. I had promised to be back by noon, so I had another hour to explore the stream above the lake before heading back.
    My first cast with a gold spinner to the base of an old beaver dam produced a 16-inch pickerel. A cast above the dam produced a twin. For the next hour I was in pickerel heaven. I caught more than a dozen of these toothy critters near  a series of  old beaver dams. The largest was a 19-incher, the smallest 10 inches.
    I made it back to camp with 10 minutes to spare. I don't know when I've had a more enjoyable four-hour outing.