Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Quetico 2010


PRELUDE
Our day and a half "close proximity drive" in the Tundra resulted with the following nicknames being assigned. Tim assumed the moniker "Big Daddy" while his 14 year old son Alex became "Candy Man" after consuming most of a bag of licorice. Alex quickly turned the tables on Dan giving him the title of "Dirty Dan" (Alex was to amuse us throughout the trip with his quick wit). I couldn't help but wonder aloud what my label would be. "Why, Al The Pal..... of course" chimed Dan right on cue.

We hit the U.P. with "Big Daddy" commenting on every smoked fish and pasty shop that he saw. Finally it occurred to me he was inclined to stop. "Tim, you need to be a bit more direct and speak up if you want me to stop". These words uttered by me set the stage for what has become an inside joke for the foreseeable future as we shall see. Soon after we were going through the town of Iron Mountain, it was late afternoon and we were looking for a place to eat when suddenly we ran out of town. All three passengers in perfect unison shouted, "turn around"!  Unfortunately the term "turn around" is not part of my driving vocabulary and onward we sped. Much murmuring took place and sarcastic statements such as "Oh, Just let me know if you want me to stop" were tossed around. My punishment was quickly meted out however in the form of being passed over when the last of the cookies were eaten. "Oh no you don't" asserted Big Daddy as the homemade goodies were passed into the back seat amongst much snickering.

We found ourselves the following day at Piragis (the local outfitter) snooping around. After a bit more rambling we went inside the Ely Steakhouse and had a fine meal. Afterward we shot some pool and played some darts. Good fun. Onward we sped to Williams and Hall Outfitters on Moose lake in the late afternoon. Tim Cornelius (A.K.A. "Big Daddy") my longtime childhood chum set about to seam seal the tent I had provided him with some months earlier. Several times I had implicitly advised him to seal the tent and check for leaks. His negligence was to provide him with a most memorable night as we shall soon see.
Day 1
We were up a daybreak and hustled our gear down to the awaiting water taxi. Soon thereafter we had a fine breakfast while our boats and gear were loaded for our taxi to Prairie Portage, gateway to Quetico Provincial Park. I heartily approve of our stay at Williams and Hall. The bunkhouse, breakfast and taxi were professionally provided at a very reasonable rate. Service with a smile goes a long way in my book.
After an early check in with the Canadian park service I was eager to get going. It was getting warm and the wind was already starting to build. We hit the sandy beach near the portage to Burke lake and opted for a swim to cool off since it was already roasty-toasty out. The stiff following wind that had helped us in Bayley Bay and Burke lake quickly became our nemesis on Basswood Lake. With about 3 more miles of new water to cover and a stiff chop to contend with I led by following the shoreline. This soon led to a modest mutiny. Dan was quick to point out that we were taking the long way and he was more inclined to strike out in a more direct fashion. I will admit to being a bit of a horses rear in my response. My tone probably lacked both patience and tact as I explained that our "goal" was to paddle and enjoy Basswood in a safe and efficient manner even if it meant a longer distance. You know your friends are true when you can be short with them and they still stick.

Amidst the gathering afternoon gloom we arrived at our intended and pre-determined campsite. I honestly admit to being rather delighted with the site. It was on an elevated island in a remote bay. Although lacking a good landing it had decent tent pads, great views and a nice breeze. With the weather glowering we set up camp. The rain tarps (we had 2) were to soon prove their value. While each of us took care of our own dinner needs I made up a pretty decent peach cobbler complete with real peaches with the outback oven for our dessert. Pretty good.

The rain commenced soon after the mosquitos had taken flight and it rained hard and blew off and on all night. My new 2 man "hubba hubba" tent kept me nice and dry. But unbeknownst to me Big Daddy and Candy Man were having a rough go of it. Their tent was leaking like the proverbial sieve. Tim's down bag was soon safely ensconced in its dry bag. A long, hot, humid, sleepless night was endured by Tim while clothed in full rain gear. Somehow Alex managed to snooze through the whole sorry episode.
 Day 2
In the morning Tim and his son couldn't resist the siren call of fishing in the still on and off rain. Dan and I busied ourselves erecting the spare rain fly over the leaky tent to protect our comrades from further misfortune. While we engineered a dry refuge Tim and Alex racked up a nice tally of pike right from shore. One 7lb and one 5lb northern were to make a long anticipated lunch appearance. I gave some thought about getting out there (and now regret I didn't) but instead retired to the comfort of my sleeping bag. It quit blowing and raining about noon and after stringing some things to dry I took the "Water Wolf" out for a spin. After several smallish bass and pike I caught what was to be my largest smally of the trip, a solid 4lb on the boga grip. Nice fish. Dan ventured out in the late afternoon and promptly returned with a 5lb walleye. We had quite the fish fry that night.

Day 3
I was up well before sunrise and fished hard until about 9 A.M. Several small bass and pike came aboard but nothing of consequence. Looking back I should of probably kicked myself in the rear to get out during yesterdays big blow and fished while the front was coming through. But the motivation just wasn't there and I hate forcing things.

Today we had a day trip planned to an unnamed lake. It took about an hour to get our act together but soon our 3 boats were out trolling for lake trout while paddling toward our intended destination a few miles hence. I watched as Big Daddy and Candy Man took the Bell Northwoods canoe closer and closer to the bank. "Hmmmm, they're going to get their lures hung up" I muttered to myself under my breath as I eyed them with growing certainty as they angled closer and closer to the rocky shoreline. Instead Tim yelled out that Alex had hooked into a very nice fish. After several anxious moments the fish was brought boatside where Tim decided the best way to land the big walleye was to grab the line and lift. Basswood was as calm as I'd ever seen it and I bet they're perfectly harmonized "AHHHHHH" could be heard quite some distance as the big fish flopped off. This event started another inside joke that was to be repeated throughout the trip......."It was in the E-mail" became a common saying. The reader must understand that a prodigious amount of e-mails went Big Daddy's way informing him of the need to waterproof the tent, bring a small net, etc. etc. but I digress.
Yo Tim!

Up into a cove and following a small creek we came upon our destination. A pretty little lake that looked to be filled with bass. It was calm and sunny and I had to drop down to 4lb line to get bit. A four inch worm did the trick and several bass and 2 fun pike were brought boatside. I kept one of the bigger pike and with a bass Dan had caught we had a big lunch including a double batch of lemon poppy seed muffins again whipped up via outback oven.
Dan always had a knack with the bass
  After a quick swim we gathered our gear in anticipation of heading back to base camp. The weather had started to turn and I was becoming suspicious. Suddenly Candy Man shouted out from above us that we needed to come up where he was. Up we went and found a truly beautiful spot that overlooked the lake on a high granite facing. Well done Alex! The lake warrants a return visit and the now found panoramic view will be a highlight.
Alex's discovery
I was the last to leave but quickly made the short portage. With a brisk breeze to push me along the bank I resolved to fish my way back. Conditions looked very favorable indeed but I managed only one big fish hook up. A few big head shakes and he was off. As Dan taught me long ago........"A little fish can pull hard but can't make big head shakes......only a big fish can do that". I have found that saying a definite truism. I fished a bit after dark but the skeets won out and I retreated to the comfort of the no-see-um mesh where I slept soundly being quite content with the day.
Big Daddy and Candy Man

Day 4
Today we are going to move our camp some distance and spend our remaining time on North Bay (part of Basswood Lake). We had another beautiful day as we trolled our way down Basswood lake. Dan left early to try and secure the 5 star peninsula site at the entrance to lost bay. Tim, Alex and myself managed 3 walleye between us but Alex was to get even with his Dad from the previous "misplaced fish" event of  yesterday by trying to lift Tim's 5+ lb. walleye into the boat via lifting on the lure. Again there was some flopping, a splash and some moaning involved. Of course the obligatory "Did you read the email" was uttered by yours truly.

More paddling and trolling ended up putting another good walleye on Alex's line where Tim used the orange fish grippers to secure the prize. We pulled over to take a break and weigh the fish. Another walleye at exactly 5lbs. This was to prove an unusual theme for us in North Bay as we ended up catching more walleye at that weight than any other size. After a few high fives and some pics we proceeded to the peninsula site where Dan had indeed snagged it. Nice grab "Dirty Dan"!
a happy camper
After dinner I struck out for Lost Bay. Between the first island and shore there seemed to be ideal walleye habitat. For about an hour I made repeated drifts while jigging but no takers. As I was leaving Lost Bay Big Daddy and Candy Man were just arriving. With precious little daylight left Alex scored on a nice 3lb smallmouth while I trolled out in North Bay. Another terrific day in the books.
perfect day

Day 5
We were up early and had planned on day tripping to Noon Lake via South, West and Shade lakes. Tim and Alex piled into the Northwoods and got a bit of a head start. North Bay was flat calm and the sky overcast. I flipped out a deep running crankbait and started paddling...........BAM, fish on! I looked around and suspected walleye. It was going to be a whopper if it was I muttered over to Dans boat who was not far off. With less than 10ft to go the fish came off and I was miffed. I had wanted to at least see it. I made another pass and popped an eye that went 4.5lb. Soon thereafter another was caught. I became even more convinced that the big fish I had lost was a walleye that could of pushed me over the long sought goal of 8lb's in canoe country. Having managed several that size in the great lakes I was eager to get one while under paddle. It looks like I'll have to wait some more.

Meanwhile Tim and Alex were making there own luck having caught a mid sized laker and another nice walleye. I made a few more passes without further result and then caught up with my pals on the opposite side of North Bay. It was mid morning and still calm so I suggested we make a few passes out in the bay. That was a good decision. I put a lake trout of 7.5 lb in the boat and Tim and Alex popped a double on walleye right near an island. Good action.........nice fish
 beautiful day,  beautiful fish
A double!
 It was now late morning and some decisions needed to be made. Onward to South Lake and hopefully the 5 star campsite where we would whip up a shore lunch of walleye.When we got to South Lake we made wraps with the fried fish filets and topped them with salsa. After stuffing ourselves we couldn't help but fall asleep in the pine duff.

Tim's dreaming of a 9lb. walleye
 I awoke first and made myself some coffee. While I awaited my slumbering companions I observed a 16ft canoe with 3 guys in it and a huge pile of gear. They were going incredibly slowly right next to the bank in the lily pads. I entertained the thought that they must be a guided group and were bird watching but when the fishing rods came out I knew that they didn't have a clue about where to go and what to do. They soon ceased fishing and aimed their overladen vessel toward the portage to West Lake. I was suddenly seized with a desire to help them and quickly paddled out to them. After a brief conversation I found that their destination was Shade Lake but they were very much open to any suggestions. I cued them to a spot on West where I thought they could put a few fish ion the boat and suggested that they go to Jeff Lake instead of Shade. A tad bit more adventurous with better fishing and wholly suited to their overloaded mode of travel. I wished them luck and they carefully waved as I sped away.


My companions had roused themselves and after a short pow-wow we decided to flip back to North Bay  and take advantage of the calm conditions. I left first and stroked hard eager to take advantage of the lack of wind. My focus became the reef where the "double" had been taken a few hours ago. I spent several optimistic hours there without result. It is, however, a substantial area and will certainly get my attention anytime I'm on North Bay. After switching to topwater in the late afternoon and playing with several 16" smallys I decided to troll for Lake trout. I was quickly rewarded. In an hours time I caught 2 twin Lakers that had some shoulders. Both fish weighed in at exactly 8lbs on the boga grip and were an absolute blast on the 9' steelhead rod (my favorite trolling rod). I dearly wanted pictures but that meant a death sentence for the fish so instead I spent some time with them until they were able to swim off on their own. They were quite beautiful and of good size. Which brings up another oddity........everyone was to catch a laker that went exactly 8lbs.
Alex hung in there with the big dogs
Just about dark I swung by where I had hooked what I suspected was a good walleye and set up a troll. BOOM.........A good hit on the deep diver in 18ft of water. I studied the rod for a few seconds. Hmmm, big head shakes, could be a nice fish. A few minutes later a 6.5 lb walleye was eased on the stringer. I took the fish back to camp where I got a picture and then promptly released the big eyed beauty. Another Great Day!

Day 6
Dan was finally stung with the fishing bug. I had told him about where I had caught the Lakers of the previous day. He had intended to troll a jig and then set up a drift and fish the jig. I let him know my opinion of trolling the jig and eventually prevailed upon him to rig his spare rod with one of my favorite crankbaits. He returned an hour later with, yup you guessed it, a laker of 8lbs. The crew went into fish cleaning action and quickly made a fire and grilled that fish while I napped. They just did manage to save me a few bites. My hats off to you mates, well done.
Day 7
This day, our last full day, remains a bit foggy but I shall try and re-call it as best as possible. I was away fairly early and with one goal. That was to put a pike of 40" or better in the boat. I went directly to the reef off the island which not only had a lot of rock but also a fair amount of weeds. By the time I had gotten there however, the wind had kicked up something fierce and I continued on without so much as a cast. There is a big basin near the channel that leads to the Burke lake portage and I set up shop there. Out came the big baitcaster with 20lb line. I like big lures when fishing for pike and thus the sturdier equipment which is designed to throw it without wearing you out.
 I fished for about 4 hours with only small stuff to show for my efforts. The paddle back was tough with big waves and high wind but I'm rather brave near shore and the little Bell solo rode the waves just like a cork. I had intended to slip up into Lost Bay but instead felt wiped out and slept for some 2 or 3 hours. Tim and his son had returned from a rather longish jaunt and were blitzed themselves.

In the late afternoon the wind laid down nicely and Tim started whining that he had not caught a lake trout. "OK fine, let's go" I said. " Although Alex was wanting to go fishing he was a sport. We told him we would be back in an hour and away we went. I was hoping Tim would connect and not me as I had already brought 3 nice lakers in as well as several smaller ones. Around the island I went but no dice. I had to keep telling Tim to paddle slower and softer but being the brute that he is he had one speed. The thrust he achieved per paddle stroke was so strong that I finally had to tell him to stop paddling altogether. I asked Tim how long we had been gone. "Oh, about 45 minutes" he responded. I pointed our craft toward camp wanting to keep our word with Alex. Something deep down within told me to do a pass out into North Bay away from the island. Away we went as I usually don't ignore those kind of promptings. Sure enough 3/4 of the way through the loop Tim connected. With the rod bent double and the drag singing Tim kept commenting that he had a "big fish"! "Could be another 8lber" I commented. Tim was convinced the fish had to be lots bigger than 8lbs. but when we put it on the boga, yup, 8lbs exactly. We exchanged grins and released the fish. I was very pleased and happy that Tim had banged a Laker and a good one at that.
Day 8
We were up fairly early as today was departure day. Tim had to attend some schooling in northern Michigan the following afternoon. This cut the trip short a day or two. While we were packing up a startling event occurred. While Tim was putting on his Mukluks an enormous grey hairy spider clambered out and quickly made his way up his thigh. I was right next to him and seen the whole thing. I would not of believed a spider of that size would be in northern climes. Tim gave a yell as he swatted it off and apparently I yelled to. This is the second time I have come across an outsized spider in the Quetico. 

We breezed across North Bay before the wind picked up. I ran a line through Burke and picked up 3 lakers including one that went 5.5 lbs. Very pretty fish in Burke. We made our way across Bayley bay in the face of an ever freshening wind. With the time constraints which were facing Tim it was desirable to get a water taxi back. I thought it was very unlikely the Canadian park service would call an American outfitter but Dans comment rang true........"If anyone could do it Tim could......he's the Man". Sure enough an hour later we were whisked away to Williams and Hall and much thanks were given the park service for making the call.

An hour later we were on our way. The vote was to stop at "Betty's Famous Pies" on route 60 but I, as driver, had veto power. We stopped at subway in Ely instead and then made the dash toward U.S. 2 and the upper peninsula. Good thing we got the water taxi and overlooked Betty's as we did just manage to drop Tim off at 4 P.M. the following afternoon in Traverse City. Thus ended our little adventure.

 Thanks
I want to thank my lovely wife Lori. She has always given me free reign to go when and where I want. I am a blessed man to have her.

My hats off to my traveling companions. In spite of some tough sledding that first day and night they stood tall and paid their dues with only mild complaint. It was very pleasant for me to have some of my very best friends altogether.

I would also like to thank Darrel Brauer (alias Kingfisher) for his advice. 1/2 of our trip was based on his suggestions and I most thoroughly enjoyed a part of the park I might not have otherwise experienced.

As always it is with a grateful heart that I thank the Lord of heaven and earth whose creation is beyond what I can think or even imagine.




















Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Fox Bay via Fox creek/Georgian Bay

Day 1
A little bit of a late start due to some confusion on my part in obtaining permits. Apparently I can get them from any outfitter in the area. Up at 6:30 but the only diner in the area doesn't open until 8. To start a trip without the usual belly full of coffee, eggs, potatoes, bacon and toast is mostly unthinkable. I wait and then get the "truckers special".

I get to Hartley Bay Marina about 9 and by the time I get started the wind is freakin honkin right in my face and would continue unabated all day. A cold front is coming and that's probably a good thing as the high today is supposed to be in the mid 90's. I have been to 2 "outfitters" in the area inquiring about landmarks to Fox creek. Nobody has a clue. The guy at Hartley Bay has advised me that the Pickerel River is all but impassable due to low water. That was plan "B". I am expecting the same in Fox Creek as my internet research is 10 years old. I have some apprehensions about even finding Fox Creek as it does not empty or originate into the French River which is the waterway I am starting from. Add to that the only map I have is such a big scale I have my doubts about finding my way. Plan "C" is not very appealing. I would have to stay on the main branches of the French and loop around on the outside (Georgian Bay proper) to gain access to the more remote region of Fox Bay. Many negatives would come into play. It would add at least another day and I would have to deal with the big water and powerboats as well. And if or when I got to the outside I would very likely be turned back due to rough water. The final motivator to find Fox Creek is that several campsites on the main waterways have been shut down because of bear problems.

WOW! What a truly great day! Just superb! Finding the entrance to Fox Creek is a tad tricky. I kept looking for a marker of any sort but no dice. More by intuition than anything else I eased into a finger and parked. Hmmm? No sign of a portage trail. Adjacent to my position was a granite ridge and I decided to take a look see. Bingo, some water at the end. That in itself is not that unusual in this country but it prompted further exploration. The first real encouraging sign was some surveyors tape on top of the ridge. AHA! I gave the ridge a run and found it flagged to the end where it dumped into nothing more than a pothole. I got the stuff across the pothole but still no sign of a portage. Again a ridge presented itself and another traverse put me on what I became increasingly convinced was Fox Creek.
When I got down to the waters edge I was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a shallow, weed choked, mosquito infested backwater I would have to give it more the label of a series of long lakes connected by narrow passageways. At the landing there were a few boats cached, locals no doubt, that gave some suggestion as to the fishing possibilities.

  The wind was a two edged sword. It very much wanted to stop me dead in my tracks but it also had a "cooling effect" which helped me deal with the very hot temps. The run up the creek took about 5 hours. I was blessed to have a bear swim across right in front of me. He crossed about 1/8 mile of water with ease and upon getting to the bank he shook himself off very much like a dog would do. He looked at me for several seconds and then bounded off up the granite hillside again looking very much like a giant dog. I also got to see a big family of otters. I got fairly close in all the wind before they went under and oddly enough never resurfaced.

2 portages behind me and only 1 left. It was here I took a spill. I was starting to feel thumped so I ate a snickers bar and a few Kashi bars to get me across. It had clouded up as the day went on and the misting rain had made the smooth granite ridges slick. Fortunately my fall came while I wasn't carrying anything but all the same I came down hard on my rump as my feet gave way. I had the double indignity of getting smacked across the face by a pine branch as well. HMMM. Wake up call for my beloved Muckluks. They do poorly on smooth angled wet surfaces especially when the tread is all but wore off.
No harm done though and I felt good as I entered Fox Bay. I was quite pleased about the day after finding the back door entrance to remote Fox Bay. Now I could deal with the big waters on Georgian Bay on my terms instead of vice-versa.

Only one job left.....I have to find a campsite. I have passed 2 already. One was next to a swamp and another had some leaning trees I was suspicious of. It was starting to get late and I was more or less smoked. I slowly eased toward an island (which I have taken the liberty to rename "Albert Island") where the group on the internet had stayed. When I got there I couldn't help but feel a twinge of emotion. What a beautiful site! Great landing, flat spot for the tent, excellent wind breaks on 3 sides, a private lagoon, and get this.......A PICNIC TABLE! All this and not a soul in sight. Thank you Lord!
Day 2
Woke up once in the night as the wind clocked around and caused the waves to blow into my little lagoon. At first I thought I had a bear puttering about in the shallows but soon realized what had happened. Getting a bit of a late start fishing but that's OK. My neck and arms are a touch sore after yesterdays slugfest with Mr. Wind. The cold front is here and is quite a contrast to yesterday. I had set up camp in nothing but a pair of Teva sandals and today I have more than 1 layer of clothing on. It's time to tidy up the camp, eat some oats and then explore this wild and wonderful area.

Day 3
I am confused and even taken aback. Has my love affair ended so abruptly? I fished hard for 10 hours yesterday and could not catch anything. Well, I take that back, I caught one 5" smallmouth and 1 little pike on a 30 taildancer over 40ft of water. I fished shallow and deep. I fished the main bay basin and the backwater bays. I have never seen a place look so good and yield so little. I had envisioned coming back year after year. Adventurous trip in, stunning scenery, isolated area and all within 1 days drive. It would be like being married to a beautiful women who was frigid. Nice to look at but.............

It looks like I was wrong about the front coming through yesterday. It rained hard last night and this morning the wind is honkin big time. I may have to drink a few more cups of courage (coffee) before I get the nerve to take the boat out. I am brave in the rough near shore but a certified chicken in the rough offshore. I only have 1/4 mile of open water to cross to escape my island home and it doesn't look that bad but the waves breaking into the far rocky shore and the sound of the wind is enough to curb my ambitions. I have 2 plans I intend to put into play. One is to venture closer to the main body of Georgian Bay which is some 2 miles distant. The fish went somewhere and en-mass. The other strategy, that I had hoped to employ today, was to return to Fox Creek and fish the series of lakes there. While I was at it I could look for any suitable campsites. That way if I failed to connect on the outside a good alternative would be present. Time will tell if I can achieve anything of value today. At least I am quite comfy. My site has several large granite formations, humps if you will, that block the wind quite effectively. Add to that the rainfly which is erected over the picnic table which helps keep everything dry. And what shall I say of the picnic table? It is splendid! A terrific "asset"indeed (pun intended)!
It is now 1p.m. The sun is out but it's still blowin hard. Just a small reduction will get me on the water. No matter how the fishing pans out on this trip I have decided to dedicate myself to learning this area. This is big fish country and it may take some time to unlock its secrets. There are several fish camps in Georgian Bay. People often spend several hundred dollars to fish here. By finding Fox Creek I have found a back door that puts me right in the middle of what is probably world class fishing. I probably need to give it a go in the spring. In the mean time I will do some more exploring as soon as the weather breaks a bit.

Tonights dinner sounds interesting...........A soft tortilla shell with ketchup. Now THAT'S something to look forward to. There is supposed to be fish with that recipe. Tomorrows dinner sounds equally meager.........A bag of white rice. I think there is supposed to be fish with that to. Of all people I should know better! Trying to get a bite post cold front can be tough. They should of bit yesterday........and probably did, somewhere.

A fun day on Albert Island. It is small and filled with trees but open and I spent a lot of time casting from shore. After all, one never knows. On one casting shift I walked up on an otter. It would go down and come back up a half minute later crunching on something. Every time it went down I would get closer. Finally, with one last burst I got to within 3 ft. of where he came up. He went back down as fast as he came up and then popped up a short distance away and chattered at me. All I could do was laugh. Immediately thereafter I cast a big spinner and was rewarded with a 4lb pike. Dinner is looking up. It was a very good thing I didn't leave today. I only thought it was windy earlier. If it blows tomorrow I will ease over to the larger island on the other side of my lagoon. It is long and narrow and should provide a place for me to stretch my legs and make a few casts.
Day 4
It blew hard all last night and is still gusty this morning. Rather odd though, I had expected blue bird cloudless skies and cool temps.......instead it is very overcast with sheets of drizzling rain and quite cool. The wind has left me a touch nervous. If I would of left yesterday it would of been a very dicey proposition to get back to camp in the evening. On the plus side any change in wind direction will help since the long narrow bays are all oriented in a NE direction. In my brief time here I am sensing that it is a bit peculiar. The other night I left my damp rain pants out to air out a bit. In the morning when I picked them up they were literally alive with an insect that resembled a cockroach. Many dozens had decided the "in" place to live was the legs of my rain pants. On the bright side if I were to ever get stuck here I wouldn't go hungry. Then last night I had forgotten to turn my boat over. When I got to it I flipped my headlight on and was instantly covered up in large bats. 4 or 5 were quickly about me and quite a bit larger than any I'm used to. Interesting. This morning the first thing I noticed is that the water level is up at least a foot. I suppose that is to be expected with this being the third day of strong winds coming in off Lake Huron. I wonder if the fish will follow the high water into the bays like the saltwater fish do?

This drizzly choppy weather should be good Pike fishing and if I were in a tin boat I would relish the prospect. Now, however, I am biding my time, drinking coffee and waiting for the margin of safety to turn in my favor. I guess I am getting cautious in my old age. 3 young red squirrels are playing tag in camp this morning. Sort of amusing. They seem content enough scampering about. Their only job in life is collecting pine nuts and making more squirrels and of course to avoid being eaten.

The wind eased off but then picked up from an entirely different direction. It's raining fairly steadily now and is quite cool. Brrr. I suppose I should pull it together and see if any fishes want to come out to play..........here goes.

Well it's only 2 hours later and I'm back. Popped one fun pike on the big muskie spinner within the first 5 minutes. I went toward Georgian Bay and checked out 2 other campsites. All quite marginal, especially the landings. The wind came up with a purpose and pinned me in the lee of an island. As soon as there was a lull I trolled my way back to camp. Here I am eating a cinnamon raisin bagel slathered with nutella. Pretty good! Sitting in camp drinking coffe is causing my caffeine supply to run low. To exhaust my supply would be a blow to morale. I'm trying to decide what to do. I want to get across the channel and explore Duncan Bay. It has a long narrow fiord like channel almost a mile long that looks to end in a marshy area. Maybe I could catch some bass or crappie there. I feel good about getting across in this blow but if the wind continues to clock around I would be looking at a risky crossing this evening. Even with supplies running low one more cup of courage will likely put me in the boat. I can't quite stomach the thought of sitting in camp another day.

The right choice...........overcast, drizzly and windy during my paddle into Duncan Bay. This rugged austere landscape certainly heightens your senses. This country would be very unforgiving to those who make wrong choices or are careless. I hooked one fish which I thought was "the one". Smacked hard, nice boil on the surface.........It put a nice bend into the Loomis Muskie rod and made a nice run which caused my boat to plow into a granite wall in spite of my best one handed paddle strokes. Turned out to be a rather ordinary 7lb pike. Glad to have caught it though. I towed it back to camp where it proved to be more than I could eat but just barely. Not sure what to do tomorrow. A little cold out......probably in the upper 50's during the day. Seen several formations of geese today. If I didn't know better I would say it is Oct instead of early Sept.

Day 5
The new down bag has done well for me. Kudos to "Snow Dog" and "Kingfisher" on Quiet Journey (a paddling forum) for nudging me over the edge on getting a down bag. I also took "Kingfishers" advice that he gave in the Boundary Waters Journal (a quarterly paddling mag) concerning silk underwear. In spite of being almost sheer they are quite comfy and warm. They weigh very little and are supremely compact which makes them ideal for canoe travel. Add my fleece beanie style hat and I was toasty all night.
I think today I will strike camp and head toward Fox Creek and see what it has to offer. This morning is sunny and quite cool. It's probably best to tackle the ridges of Fox Creek while they are dry. I almost hate to leave as this has been one of the best sites Iv'e ever been at. Oh well.....time to saddle up!

I arrived at Fox Creek about 11 a.m. Good thing I left when I did as the wind is once again howling like a banshee. This is 5 days straight of high wind. It's a very cool run up the creek with all the rock relief. When I got to the first lake a high granite mound caught my attention. It offered a good vantage point for views so I parked and clambered up. Up top was a fantastic panorama with water on 3 sides and many islands and islets. There was also a flat spot with a ring of rocks sitting ready for use. Obviously someone thought this a good spot to pitch a tent. I had camp up in about an hour and caught 2 chunky bass from shore. Fishing prospects seem to be improving.I spent the afternoon fishing and in spite of the poor conditions caught several chunky bass and pike. All were released.

There is a lot of bear sign here in the form of overturned rocks and small boulders. They are always looking for something to eat. It's evening out and it is downright cold out. I was shivering while I changed into my sleepwear. Since it gets dark at 8:30 it is a long night to be in a tent. I woke up twice. Once I thought one of my dry bags was getting messed with so I donned my headlamp and grabbed my bear spray and headed out. Everything was fine. The night sky caught my attention though. The only other time I had seen such a starry night was at Mt. Ranier. I stood awestruck for several seconds and then uttered, "Lord, you are beautiful".

Day 6
Daylight! Finally! I scampered out of my bag expecting it to be freezing. Instead it was almost warm. I looked around. Behind me was a glowering red sky and a double rainbow. It's finally flat calm out and now it's going to rain. AHHHH! I have a hunch this is going to be an all day deal. Maybe I'll just pack up and hit it. I fished my way along the route. The cold front had certainly effected the bite but enough 15" chunky smallmouths kept me interested. The contrast between my paddle in and out was extreme. After a shore lunch of bass I crossed the two granite ridges in the late afternoon. My friend, the wind, was back. Back on the French I had 1/2 mile crossing that I had to ferry across. As long as the waves didn't break into the boat I felt there was no real danger. It took about 2 hours to travel the French river back to my truck. Thus concluded my brief albeit adventurous trip into Fox Bay.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Yuri Trip 2010

I can't believe it's over. Another Yuri trip behind us and a long wait until next year. I have to apologize in advance for the lack of pics. Guess I just got busy. The usual suspects were on board along with a few fresh faces. Rich, my fellow artist buddy who was with me on the Yankee trip and my big buddy Jerry who has done the Yuri boat with me in the past were this years new guys to the mix. Capt. Zac, Rob, John and myself filled out our 6 man crew.

I took a gamble with catching bait (since some of my regular stops were proving unproductive) and good thing to. We loaded up at the #5 channel (AKA the "dump hole".....again living up to it's name). After a full day of laying in a store of grunts we proceeded to the Hogfish Grill where I ate to much and had a rather miserable night to show for my excess. Fortunately Jerry was off his game and no wall shaking rumblings emanated from his slumbering being that night.

We were at the "Lauren Jean", Yuri's dream boat, bright and early to load up. Unfortunately every dream has an end and ours ended abruptly when we found out the generator was down and hence no air conditioning in the cabin or sleeping bunks. AHHHH!! Yuri went and got some fans which he ran off the ships inverter and off we went. All and all the lack of air was not nearly as bad as I had first imagined it would be as the sea conditions were not to hot and we had a nice breeze throughout the trip.
 Fridays start was late with all the running around but we finally got out there and had high hopes of reproducing last years run of 22 dolphin caught trolling but such was not the case. Only three wee little phins came in the boat. A rather inauspicious start. I started the trip with a bit of a headache and rumblings in my tummy. Having never been prone to seasickness before I hate to confess it but I may have to start to address the possibility. This is the 3rd trip in a row where I haven't felt that great. Dr. Rob did a little work on my shoulders and neck and that helped. (Rob below....the grouper killer)

We stayed fairly shallow friday night and while the moon was up we did OK....not great. Saturday was one of the best day bites I can remember. It seemed like every stop had action. Rob did very nicely on the grouper catching 10 I think including a dandy black. We also got on some beautiful yellowtails with many big ones caught including my personal best.
We continued to fish shallow throughout the trip fishing around 100 ft or less. Jerry and I both figure Yuri didn't want to run out to the deep as the waves would of been bigger. No matter, we stayed busy and filled both fish boxes with snapper and grouper AND the big overflow cooler I bring on board just for that situation. While Rob was Mr. Grouper I did OK on the muttons putting 9 good ones in the box including a 17lb pink beauty
Saturday afternoon was kind to the big man. We pulled up on a spot where Jerry pulled 3 nice Red grouper in a row off the same rock. Don't tell me your not into catching big fish Jerry, it sure looked like you were having fun to me!
Rich, this being only his 4th overnight boat bottom fishing excursion had to put his dues in (see below)
Saturday night found the seas still unsettled and probably knocked us out of the big mutton bite in the deep water. Nevertheless we still hung in there. Our overnight spot had several snags, probably coral, which proved rather demoralizing. When you can barely stand up it's tough to continually re-rig. Slowly the stern was depleted of anglers except for one crusty die hard who was feeling a bit better and was catching a second wind at the right time. Having had enough of getting hung I went light tackle with 30lb line and 8ft of 30 floro and a light 3/4 once weight. A ballyhoo minus it's tail was my choice of enticement. With the moon still up I was able to drift the bait slowly down to the snapper and it proved very effective. So much so I gave serious consideration to waking some folk up but with only another hour or two of the moon I decided against it. Every drift down was a bite. Most pleasing to me was several of the fish were dandy mangos. Yellowtails and my largest red grouper of the trip came via this method. The grouper was especially challenging as we went back and forth with me feeling him in the coral but managing to get the upper hand. It was a close run thing. Handling the gaff alone was also rather fun. When the moon went down the fish shut off just as I had thought they would. I went to my bunk after cleaning the deck, not wanting to leave a mess, but only slept an hour or so before my fan quit and I knew I had to get up or lay in a swelter.

Sunday found the seas still kickin and we continued to fish shallow. Our good day bite of the previous day failed to materialize. I think partly because we were fishing even shallower plus the water was very clear.....never a good combination. Later that morning we had several big cudas around and Jerry put his mind to catching one which he did. (Below; Jerry and his cuda)
I didn't fish the last stop but rather started putting things away and emptying the last of our bait over the side. I slept the whole way back. My hands, despite my gloves, were in bad shape with many cuts and infections going on. I showed them to Yuri who knew exactly what to do. First the bleach cut with water and then a generous swabbing of neosporin got me to the point I could close them without so much pain.
Many thanks to Capt. Yuri (see below)
All things considered I thought we turned things around. If we had caught dolphin like we did last year I'm not sure where we would of put them plus our catch. Besides we were down to about 15% of our ice as it was. It took me 4 hours to clean my catch. 22 quarts went into the freezer, a good trip. I enjoyed fishing with all of you and look forward to doing it again.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Trip report;Yankee Capts 3 day

Hey fellow fishheads,
Another trip in the books. While I wasn't able to wipe away the stink of the last trip, this trip went up on the fun-o-meter ten fold. A big part of it was the weather. Beautiful and stable for all three days. Overall I would have to say the bite was slow with a few brief flurries. This was surprising to me considering the weather and the length of time we were out (they have to eat sooner or later). Last trip was rough and I was a bit ill for a good portion of the trip. Had it been even a tad bouncy on this trip I would of likely again had gotten sick as just 2 days before departure I had a terrible stomach virus that had laid me low. But like someone with a bad crack addiction it would have to be "hell or high water" to keep me off. Add to that I had been struggling with tendonitis in my left elbow and had some concerns about blowing it out. 1/2 way through the trip my concerns with the elbow were starting to materialize as it was painful to lift my rod out of the rod holder to start fishing but from that point it revived and hasn't felt this good in months. I guess there's some health benefits to putting your body into a tightly coiled spring for three days after all.


I think fresh bait (or really lack thereof) was a big part of our small catch. We started out trying to catch bait at no-name bridge which was devoid of anything but pins. No 'hoo and most concerning was no grunts. The water was as clear as I had ever seen it and you could see bottom everywhere. We blew out of their after a few hours and hit one of my pet spots were we found a big school of big threadfins. Rich had the right sabikis to catch them and we loaded the cooler. Rich was the man often catching them 4 at a time. While we did catch some fish with them they were not the secret weapon I had hoped. They certainly looked they should be mutton candy. Oh well, that's fishin. In the meantime the 2 grunts I did manage to catch were hammered immediately. Lesson learned.......get down there early in case your no-fail bait stop doesn't pan out!

We started out about 3 AM friday morning. My first fish was a good sized grunt which I promptly put on my 8olb rod and dropped him back down. Boom! I set up and missed the fish but hopeful my bait was still there I dropped it back down. Sure enough he bit again and the result was a decent black grouper.
 I had high hopes it was going to be a jam-up trip after the quick blackie but such was not the case. It was a slow but steady pick after that and that pattern remained until friday night. I implemented the new trolling strategy in hopes of catching some bait in the form of a bonita. Instead I got to witness some dopey guys get their reels dumped 500 yards of expensive 80lb braid when they would hook up with big fish all the while knowing the capt. doesn't stop for trollers. Not only did they wear themselves out they ultimately got bested. One fish hit a big wahoo lure. I got to see the strike and later watched the 5 ft. fish jumping 3 football fields away. I ended up getting nipped off twice before putting wire on and catching a perfect size cuda on my small feather. No luck on the cuda bait though.
Friday night found one good flurry where a number of big muttons hit the deck. I managed only one that ate a bonita strip that I had caught earlier that day by freelining a threadfin on a jighead with 25lb test. I also caught a king of about 10lb at the same time. Our bait situation was starting to look up but the deep water night and the big boys would be behind us. I fished starting 3 am friday morning, all day friday, all friday night and until about 10 am saturday before having to go down with about an hour sleep. Nice to know I can still hang with the young lions. Rich pulled his all nighter Saturday night where he came and woke me a few times when things started to perk up.

Saturday proved quite eventful. I hooked up with a fish of a lifetime on 30lb line. Talk about being undergunned! I dropped a jig with a strip, going finesse on the slow bite when KA-BOOM it was game on about 3/4 way down. Prospects looked good when my fish headed toward bottom (not likely a shark). The Captain and mate looked at each other and started clearing the rail as my fish decided to head up to the bow with me in tow.We got to the pulpit where my fish decided to go underneath the anchor rope. The captain and mate handled my rod (the Capt casually pointing out it would no longer be eligible for a world record....LOL) but we were back in business. Up in the pulpit the fish that only 20 minutes earlier I thought there would be no chance of seeing was now just out of sight, my spool being mostly full. Unfortunately I had picked up 2 lines and while the Capt. and mate were struggling trying to clear them the fish shook his head and we parted company. My fault all the way. When I gained so much line on the fish he was closer and now no line stretch. No margin for error. I should of backed my drag off a tad more realizing the knot had to be mostly done. With the fish mostly beat but only a few more kicks in him I should of had him! Arrrrrgh!

Now heads up. This was my first try with the butterfly jigs. Jacks were coming in so I picked up the new combo/jig which is exactly what I bought it for. WHAM-BAM I'm hooked up. I'm thinking "wow, that was cool" until about 1/2 way up a shark decides to eat my jack and dumps 1/2 my spool in about 10 seconds until I tighten it down and bust him off. Hmmm, my thinking went from "wow, that was cool" to "wow, that was expensive". The butterfly jigs are ridiculously expensive ($25 for that big one) and so was the 1/2 spool of 65 lb test power pro. So, I grab my 80 lb rod and slap on another jig and repeat the same process all over again. Of course being hard headed I do it a third time just to make sure the lesson sunk in. To be fair I've never lost 3 fish in a row to sharks but obviously it does happen. Fellas, the fish really like the jigs. I'm totally impressed. Hint to my Yuri crew in 2 weeks......want to try some jigs? Better get some. You will not be able to beg, borrow or steal my outfit.

Saturday night found us fishing shallower. 150 instead of 240 and green slime on the bottom was definitely a problem. With a slow bite and the slime I crashed about 11. Rich woke me twice when things started looking up. We got on a run of small muttons but they hold little interest for me. Rich connected with a dandy which he landed. He also got busted up pretty good several times. While I was asleep he also had his "major event" with a fish that I think someone else helped him release by yanking on his line when they tangled. Oh well, that's party boat fishing.

Overall it was actually a great trip. Next to me on the trip was "The Great Wall" of Team Chaos fame. Many of you who are on the Florida Sportsman Forum will know of whom I speak. Great guy, Iraq war vet, he too had a slow trip. Rich was great company and I enjoyed fishing with him. In 2 weeks we meet up again on my favorite trip of the year with Capt. Yuri and 5 other buddies including Rich. Can't Wait!!

Monday, April 5, 2010



Have you ever thought of yourself in a "certain" way and then reality proves to be exactly 180 degrees opposite of that view. That my friends can be a humbling, humiliating and frustrating realization. Having played this overnight boat game for well over 20 years I had finally come to think I had arrived. That perception was achieved with lots of hard work, trial and error, and top end equipment. The belief was not without some merit as the last several years I am usually in the running for high hook and/or jackpot honors. When one considers the tough learning curve associated with this type of fishing AND the competition from regulars who are truly skilled to be able to assign yourself into the upper echelon of overnighters is no small accomplishment. My obviously over inflated opinion of my abilities were soon to be burst as abruptly as when a needle hits a taut balloon though and just as completely. I am reminded of the "Road Runner and Wiley Coyote" cartoon. In it, at least once, the coyote will go over a cliff and, after falling a VERY long way, will land with a ring of dust. That is the perfect analogy for my first trip of 2010.
YANKEE TRIP REPORT/ 3-2\ 3/4
 I baited up at long key bridge nailing enough big grunts that I stayed with it and felt pretty good. Glenn and his friend Jerry (who flew in from Arkansas) who were to be my fishing compadres fished at the "no name bridge" and also did nicely laying in a stock of ballyhoo. We arrived at the Yankee Captain full of high expectations and loaded up.

It was a bit snotty on the way out and I began to feel a bit queasy. I dislike taking any seasick medications as it tends to put you to sleep and being to hang in for 15 and 20 hours at a time before taking a couple hour nap is what it's all about. I think we set up around midnight or 1 a.m. with the wind blowin and the boat rockin. Not unfishable from any stretch of the imagination but certainly rougher than I like it especially for a night time bite. I missed my first bite which was to prove a common pattern for me throughout the trip. The bite was definitely off but there was still a steady pick of fish coming in with some good ones to boot. I wasn't to concerned though as I am often a slow starter and usually finish strong.

The moon was starting to come up and my "fish sense" started tingling but my stomach got the better of me and off to my bunk I went after giving instructions to Glenn to come and wake me should the big boys put it into gear. After a spot change I was soon abruptly and hastily awakened by Glenn who said I need to get topside and fast. In a fog I slapped my stuff on and went up to be greeted by a tote bin 1/2 full of dandy muttons. The bite was over as fast as it had started and I had just missed it. You snooze you lose!


The sun came up and not one of our party of three had yet to put a mutton in the box. I think I caught 2 small mangos that night. But hope springs eternal and the wind was forecast to lighten up a bit and it was going to be a beautiful sunny day. The bite proved to be slow throughout the day but Glenn popped a decent king of about 30 lbs which provided him with some entertainment and was a jackpot contender for a good portion of the trip. Still, the regulars picked away and I was only able to watch. In spite of digging into my bag of tricks my tally proved meager at best.

While having lunch topside a young lady who obviously loved to fish was bemoaning her lack of progress. She had yet to ever catch a mutton snapper in spite of advice from crew and her fellow anglers. I listened patiently without interruption as any wise man would do when dealing with members of the fairer gender. She was in such dire need that she actually allowed me to to do what men do best, and that's fix things. She listened with rapt attention and after having answered several inquiries posed from me I quickly and concisely explained what she must do to change her luck. Later that night she did indeed catch her first mutton (a big one to boot) and was bursting at the seams with loud exclamations. She sought me out and I was the beneficiary of a nice hug. But she, along with most of the rest of the boat, were to out fish me this trip!

The bite remained slow and we all looked forward to the night time when the snapper like to eat best. Glenn and Jerry were also having a bit of a tough go of it. My pattern was to either miss the bite completely or to have the fish come unglued 1/2 way up. In spite of changes made this was to be my lot in life for this trip. That night I think we had one hot stop and I managed to put 3 small (barely keepers) muttons in the box. The regulars continued with a slow but steady pick and many of them ended up with 12 to 15 good ones. Not bad considering how slow the bite was. I'm usually able to squeak in there on a tough bite and feel OK but not this time.

Morning put us on a good bite. I promptly busted off 2 fish. One I think was a nurse shark as it had the customary 8 minute battle of pulling up a bag of cement from the bottom but then I promptly went on to pop off what I think was a good grouper strictly due to angler error. With only minutes left in the trip I hooked up again with a very nice fish only to have it tangle in the line of the guy next to me. In spite of the mates warnings to the fellow he set up anyway convinced he had a strike and promptly knocked my fish off. This wasn't the first time that had happened and certainly wouldn't be the last time but it was par for the course for me on this trip.

I will have a month before the next trip and will have plenty to think about. Exactly what went wrong will be foremost in my mind. Plenty to think over. From bait choices to equipment selections to presentation will be replayed. The tough part though is that it seems that I've done what I've usually done and I'm not sure what to change. Hmmmmm?????

On a plus note I finally was able to fish with Glenn. He lives in Tampa and in spit of being a couple years younger than I, is retired Air Force. A genuine quality guy. I enjoyed very much fishing with him. His C/O (also retired) Jerry who flew in to go was also a great guy.

Till next time, keep it tight! (my only decent fish of the trip which was out of season and had to go back)



 

Monday, February 22, 2010

NORTH WITH DAN

"TUFF LUCK LURES" in conjunction with "ALMOST NEVER FAIL INSECT REPELLANT" bring you, with no commercial interruption,
                          
                                     NORTH WITH DAN
This is the story of two intrepid, young, good looking adventurers who, along with their trusty canoes, travel into the interior of Quetico Provincial Park. Pull up a paddle and follow over the course of 11 days as our questionable hero's struggle with large winged blood sucking creatures, blinding rain, misplaced portages and capsized vessels!

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 TUFF LUCK LURES is not responsible for any slight, real or imagined, to the reputation of the afore mentioned locale.

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DAY 1; JUNE 24
Our arrival at Moose Lake reminded me of the first time I was here several years earlier. It was blowing and hard. A trial by fire for Dan in his new 16' solo as it had been for me in an identical craft. We assembled our gear next to our twin vessels down by the landing as the whitecaps rolled by. I suggested he shove off first since he was the agreed upon leader of our micro-adventure. "Why, so you can see me roll over" was his retort and although he would never admit it I suspected he might be a tad nervous. He shoved off and glided instantly away from the security of the shoreline and out past what was certainly my comfort zone. I watched over the course of the next few hours as he paddled effortlessly over the turbulent waters well away from shore. At first I was concerned but that soon gave way to a certain grudging envy. I was the guy with the big trips under my belt but here I was glued to the shoreline following every point and cove and bobbing to and fro due to the "bounce back" of the waves hitting the rocks. Once again the instinct to stay close to shore during rough weather was overwhelming and I had not the slightest inclination to deviate from my habituated tendency.

Dan has guided us to an excellent campsite near the Canadian check in station called Prairie Portage, gateway to the Quetico. We shall make every effort to be away early in the morning and try and get through the big waters of Bayley Bay and North Bay before the wind gets into gear and has that 6 mile run to build and then batter you as you make the trip around.

It's evening now and almost flat calm. Alas, I think I hear some fish calling my name. I really should go, I wouldn't want to disappoint them.
DAY 2; JUNE 25                                           DAN
The weather has dawned overcast with anvil shaped clouds in the distance. I am suspicious of what the day may bring. As I sit in the early dawn of a new day I am reminded of an old indian saying, "WATANA-YI-KOO-KOO-ILAK-OUCH-OUCH" or loosely interpreted " the trip that needed a lot of bug spray." The mosquitos are out in force. I am continually having to fish them out of my coffee. Fortunately we are both prepared for worst case scenarios with the elite edition original bug shirt. Suddenly the $70 price tag seems like a deal as any sane person would gladly pay double that right now. My "Rail Riders" outdoor adventure pants are the trick as many dozens of the vamps are trying their best to bite through ( perhaps if they bit all at the same time). Actually, other than the annoying buzz a little dope on my hands and face has made the morning tolerable. My guess is the long drought in this part of the country is over and eggs that have long remained dormant have come out to play. Before long we will be relishing the wind, often the curse of the canoeist, to provide a respite from the winged menace. I fully expect all our days in camp to be similar. Perhaps Dan and I should make a pact to rid ourselves of any sharp tools such as knives and hatchets while we are still sane. Even though I fear the worst, I prepare to plunge (opps, wrong word) ahead.

During check-in we had a dandy downpour but soon it cleared and we had calm seas for the transit of Bayley Bay and North Bay, most fortunate indeed. Today I learned the value of barbs on hooks. I lost 4 good fish today and I'm laying the lions share of the blame on the new barbed hook ban the park has put into place.

In North Bay we separated. Dan stopped to eat and I continued to a campsite I had spied last year and thought it 5 star. We agreed to meet at the aforementioned site. It was such a sweet spot that I honestly didn't expect it to be vacant but when I got there lo and behold it was open for business. I checked in and set up on the big wind swept peninsula. Dan arrived a few hours later having been pinned down by a thunderstorm. He related a tale of woe that should provide sympathy and sniggering for some time to come. We shall call it "The Tale Of Dan's Dinner" and it goes like this: Step 1 is the catching and cleaning of a fish. Step 2 is to boil some water to make rice and adding the delectable fish minutes before the rice is fully cooked. A delicious meal by anyones standard. The subject of our story of grief and misfortune had accomplished both steps and had only to bring fork to mouth. Only one problem, to hot, way to hot. I know, thought our famished paddler, I'll hold the pan in the lake and that will help take the edge off. As our hero sets off to do just that, the handle on the pan chooses that moment to fail sending the majority of dinner into the lake. Oh my!

After a shared dinner of a luckily landed smallmouth and some cache lake fry bread we headed into long anticipated "lost bay." I fished until just after midnight. One night Mr. Big will reward me and all will be well.
DAY 3; JUNE 26
We were both up before dawn and ready to roll by 8 A.M. I'm glad Dans not a sleep in sort. Early starts are important in this game for a whole host of reasons. Today is our big portaging day and I'm glad it's calm and dry and not to hot. Well, here goes.
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Whew! Some pretty tough climbs for me today. I should of pumped more water and depended on more than a snickers bar to get me through but I hate stopping once I have momentum. The map shows a compressed distance from North Bay to Sarah lake and I'm usually able to cover considerably more water but this was enough.

Unoccupied campsites can sometimes pose a problem especially late in the day. On this day the 2 way radios proved their worth after we split up to find a site. Our first communique' will probably stay with me, DAN: "Come home #1"..................... AL: "Aye Captain."

Wow! Here we sit in a beautiful site overlooking gorgeous Sarah Lake. We had gotten to the north end of Sarah and it was a good days work to get here. I'm whippersnapped. I had to crawl into my tent for an hour just to recover. I wouldn't want to do that day in wet weather. The potential to crash and burn would be ever present.

I fished the last hour before dark with just the call of the loons to show for my effort. It really doesn't get much better.

DAY 4; JUNE 27
Another early start. The weather looks threatening and the dawn mosquito patrol is out in force. Good thing I'm bullet proof. Mostly paddling today and not a lot of portaging which suits me just fine. On the open water crossing of Mcyintre Lake I popped a decent laker and with a bass that Dan had caught we had a big shore lunch. We had showers on and off all day but winds were "light and variable" which makes for an enjoyable outing. We arrived at Conmee Lake a couple of hours later than we really should have due to the Captains difficulty with line twist on his reel and an unplanned side trip. I found this out later after having an annoying wait of well over an hour. After hailing him on the radio and receiving no response I had actually started to become concerned. When he showed up no worse for wear I was relieved. The admonishment delivered was light lest I be brought up on charges of mutiny but I did strongly suggest he leave his radio on next time.

The hour or two delay did have repercussions however. That time window was the nicest weather of the day and as it was we arrived at our campsite just as what turned out to be at least 18 hours of continual rain. It really wasn't a biggy though because for the first time I had a first rate tarp. A 10'x10' of ripstop nylon with loops every 18" around the perimeter to tie to with a reinforced center patch to accommodate the 78" segmented and shock-corded center pole. Not only were we able to set up it was actually enjoyable. I had purchased it after last years leaky tent episode made me realize my vulnerability and now I can't imagine not having it.

We are intending to base camp here at Conmee for the next few days. This lake has the reputation as to where little walleyes go to become big walleyes. An article in the Boundary Waters Journal has piqued my interest of a small unreferenced reef. The guys in the article had filmed what would eventually be a segment for a T.V. show. They had caught over 150 walleye in two evenings with hardly none under 24". And since I'm a big fish kind of guy here I am at Conmee during the third week of June. Of course finding a small reef on a good sized lake without a depth finder is very similar to the proverbial needle in a haystack. We'll see. It's all good fun anyway, reef or no reef.

DAY 5; JUNE 28
Slept in rather badly. With no traveling to do and the cool steady rain it seemed like the right thing to do. I think the rain has heralded the arrival of a cold front. It's windy and cool. Breakfast was a joy though sitting under the tarp with virtually no mosquitos and that made for some lively banter between Dan and I.

It's going on noon and the Captain has left some time ago after assuring me he would confine his travels to Conmee Lake. With all the Islands and points I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't see him the rest of the day. I've spent the morning writing and drinking coffee. It has finally stopped raining and the sun is trying to peek out but it remains windy and cool. I'm somewhat torn. The part of me that is a slave to a rod and reel is saying to get your rear in gear and is struggling with the responsible me who is pointing out the fact that I have just spent 3 days in a little canoe. Besides, if the weather does clear it would be wise to get some of these clothes dry. So far the responsible me has held out but I sense his resolve weakening.

Stay tuned for the continuing saga at Conmee lake. Will Al hang his clothes or go fishing? Will the mystery reef be found? Find out next time on "DAYS OF CONMEE".
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Hi it's me, I'm back. 11 P.M. and alls well. I just finished fishing and stowing a few things for the night. It never did clear up. It rained on and off all day. The wind shifted this afternoon and honked pretty good and it's still blowin hard. I lost 4 more fish today. Keeping the string tight or not isn't seeming to make a difference. I need to run a different lure. I've fished barbless before and don't really remember losing any fish. I did my best to find the reef but no dice. I'm hoping the weather will improve tomorrow especially the wind. We'll see what the morning brings.
DAY 6; JUNE 29
I awoke around 8 A.M. and was alarmed to see a really big spider ( rivaling those in Florida) poised above me. Fortunately he was between the no-see-um mesh and the rainfly or I most likely would of screamed like a little girl. He was positioned right at the top of my zipper so that upon my exit he would have the element of surprise. As it was I gave a half hearted attempt to squish him but his body was surprisingly hard and I think I just irritated him. It's obvious to me that to achieve that size he had to survive at least one winter maybe more.

Our cold front is here. It's windy and cool but at least it's sunny and dry. A good day to hang clothes and re-organize the gear. I suspect we'll be pulling out tomorrow. We'll see what the Captain says. So far the trip has been a resounding success. The 2 solo boats provide the right mix of alone but together. Reaching Conmee has been anti-climactic however.This front will likely have an ill effect on fishing especially the walleyes. I have yet to find the reef although I have only covered half the lake. I may not get to the other half as the wind may not allow it. I like the lake and its reputation may prod a return visit but the talk has turned to the falls chain and Kawanipi for next year.

I think I will organize my gear and get ready for our departure tomorrow. We've just had a pow-wow about strategy for the return leg and I like what we're going to do, sounds interesting.
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Another late night, it's going on midnight. Fished hard the last 1/2 of the day and just finished up. Caught several small pike and one dopey smallmouth that ate the lure after I tied it on and tossed it over the side. Right at dark while trolling a j-11 rapala on 4lb test I finally popped a decent walleye. It weighed exactly 4lbs on the boga grip. A fun fish to catch on the light line. He's been invited to be our breakfast guest in the morning.
DAY 7; JUNE 30
I knew last night was going to be a cold night and I put both pairs of long underwear on. I still could of used my fleece coat and my fingerless gloves. My knee and my shoulder were hurtin a bit as well. Today was a travel day so I was up before the rising of the sun and struck my tent and set about the goal of a long awaited walleye breakfast. Although it's easy to get spoiled on grouper and snapper there's just something about a north country walleye, HMMMMM, HMMMM, GOOD!

The plan, which had sounded so interesting yesterday, consisted of portaging into Suzanette, Marj and ending up at Burt. Then we were going to set up camp and try and follow a creek a mile or so into Gamblemaster Lake. The best laid plans often go amiss and ours ended abruptly at Suzanette. The smallmouths were hitting our lures left and right and had an immediate impact upon the days events. We quickly nixed our previous plans and set up camp. After a bit of lunch and brief respite the hunt for big fish was on. After an hour or so of trial and error I happened upon a big sandy/gravelly flat that was loaded with the green bass. I wore them out for an hour with many solid fish in the 3lb class. Not whoppers but good solid hard fighting footballs. I moved on and any cove or island that had spawning habitat was loaded. I switched up in the late afternoon and trolled up a decent walleye which I dragged back to camp for walleye breakfast #2. In the twilight just before getting to camp a good laker nailed my rapala. There was a lot of suspense as my thoughts went to whopper walleye or big pike but the Laker was a nice surprise. A most fitting end to a nice fishing day.

DAY 8; JULY 1
Our typical early rise/late start was further complicated by another walleye and fry bread breakfast. My packing of abundant supplies of cooking oil and fuel as well as 16 oz. of my beloved ketchup ( which was met with not so subtle derision by my traveling partner) was starting to look like pretty good planning. I had suspected from the start that fried fish was an appealing prospect and thus made provisions for sharing some meals. The Captain had offered several times to share a boiled fish and rice type meal but the mood never hit and I declined.

The weather was good as we left Suzanette. The lake had garnered much good will from me due to it's beauty and clarity of water. We hit the Darky River under good conditions but I was suspicious as always with one eye toward the sky. Two short portages put us on a long thin arm of Burt Lake. We causually agreed to meet up at the portage into Marj Lake. Even a cursory look at the map would of revealed that there were 3 different portages into Marj. As you can guess complications soon ensued with the Captain taking the closest portage and myself never even considering any portage but the most direct which also allowed us to paddle and view the big lake. As Dan sat stoically at his portage of choice swatting mosquitos and wondering just where I was at, I, on the other hand, was racking up a pretty good tally of fish as my trolled line tempted a steady stream of takers including my largest pike of the trip, an unremarkable 8lb fish. The steady action had slowed me considerably and since the Captain had left first I was surprised when, upon arriving at the portage, that there was neither hide nor hair to be found. I did, however, meet up with a group of guys who were to have considerable influence on the days events as we shall soon see. They were young fellows probably ranging in age from 16 to 21. They had 2 boats. One of their canoes was a relic from the past (built in the 40's I was to learn later) and rather enormous by todays standards easily capable of transporting 3 grown men and gear. I couldn't help but ask what it weighed. "Oh about 100 pounds" answered the lanky 21 year old who was the primary portager of the mini freighter. Although I generally never set my boat down on portages up to 3/4 mile in length I cannot conceive of carrying a 100lb craft very far before being ground into the duff.

After they departed I grabbed the map and quickly ascertained what was causing our delay. Unfortunately our radios were off but I took solace in our policy to never portage into a new lake until we reestablished contact. The Captain was here somewhere on Big Burt and eventually our paths would cross. Twenty minutes later Dan appeared coasting on the ever increasing waves a good 1/4 mile from shore. I gave him the business about being out so far and his response was that it seemed OK when he started out. Famous last words indeed!

In any event we portaged into Marj Lake and then into Burts little sister Joyce lake. We didn't find any campsites on Joyce that were obvious and even though we were starting to feel the effects of the day we felt we had little choice but to press on to Kashahpiwi Lake which was still a considerable distance off. At the portage to from Joyce into an unnamed lake we caught up with aforementioned youngsters who had stopped to refresh themselves with a swim break. On the long 3/4 mile portage we got to know them a bit and then met them again later on the unnamed lake. They were coming back from the direction that the map said the next portage lay. "There's no portage in that back bay, just a moose trail where the portage is supposed to be" they said. They departed to look at other possibilities and I gave the bay a brief look. Right where the map showed the portage there for all intents and purposes look like a landing for boats. This has to be it I thought. We landed and and started down the overgrown path. Soon it disappeared and no amount of searching could reveal its continuation. Our young friends returned having had no luck locating the mystery portage. I cross examined them about their search in the tiny bay. " Only one more sign of a trail but it's worse than this one" was the reply.

They briefly discussed the possibility of bushwacking the 3/4 mile distance but I did my best to dissuade them as I thought the act of trekking the monster boat was fraught with catastrophe. They left the little bay again and I decided to take a little spin and look for myself. Within minutes, up away from the rock shoreline I spied an old chainsaw cut. That would be the only clue I would need. Since Dan was still on the water I asked him to go to the entrance of the bay and give a shout to our luckless lads informing them of the now found portage. Time was now becoming a factor. Darkness was not far off and we had to do 2 trips down a 3/4 mile portage and then still find an unoccupied campsite on an unfamiliar lake. Adding to the mix was a weather change, rain was on the way. All of these factors added to my considerable consternation when after 20 minutes of waiting I realized he had chosen not to give a yell but to actively search for them. I yelled twice, "Dan, let's go". Then I promptly decided to wait no longer  but to continue on not relishing the thought of spending the night on a portage trail.

Some time later our young paddlers arrived and spotting our boats were relieved to have the way found. The prospect of a 1/2 day backtrack was very unattractive. Upon arriving at kashahpiwi Lake the folly of any serious bushwacking was laid bare. Ringing the lake were broken cliffs many of which were probably at least 100ft high. Had they managed to get their equipment to within striking distance the rugged terrain at lakeside might have dealt them a devastating blow. Now standing at the edge of the lake the older lad had admitted their plan had been to camp that night and bushwack the route the following day and now understood the folly of that choice.

Luckily, just a stones throw from the landing was an island campsite. I grabbed it and managed a swim to cool off a bit. Although it sprinkled lightly we set up camp without any disadvantage other than the fading light.

DAY 9; JULY 2
Even though we had a tough previous day we were up early. As the morning progressed I became increasingly concerned about the weather. Kashhahpiwi Lake is a long lake with steep sides, perfect for funneling wind. Seeing that we had a few miles to cover and needed to be on the other side I gradually speeded up my preparations to leave since I was generally inclined to paddle while the wind was not severe. I had just crossed the lake when the wind lashed out. I hauled britches and by the time I had covered the required distance and reached the safety of a lee point it was whitecapping with hard breaking waves.

I beached the boat and after tying off I clambered out on a secondary point that smelled of big fish to await the arrival of my compadre. I passed the time by casting a giant Pike lure. After 20 or 30 minutes of this I decided to try and raise my partner on the radio, "you there Captain?" As I said this my eyes cast to the point and the big breakers from which direction he must come to arrive. Immediately after my query came the response, "yes #1". To my utter astonishment the reply hadn't come from my radio but from 10' behind me. There sat the Captain resting on his paddle and looking kind of smug. The sly dog had noticed a narrow part in a back bay that had put him into the bay I was currently on. "Looked a little rough out there" he admitted.

That was the most continuous paddling we would do all day. Our route led us through the lakes of Mcneice, Armin, Grey, Shade, West and hopefully to a 5 star campsite on South. We probably spent as much time on land as we did paddling and put some rather long portages behind us but we had started to toughen up some and we passed without consequence. Our route did not seem much traveled and I can't recall seeing anyone en-route. As I suspected the 5 star site on South was occupied so we pushed on to North Bay where we came upon a nice large site and snatched it up as darkness fell.
    DAY 10; JULY 3
Today was to be a layover day but was by no means a day of rest. We had decided to day trip into a lake I had previously visited and oft talked about. The route was an interesting one including the travel of 2 creeks and 1 beaver pond. The only drawback was having to travel through my archenemy West lake.
I had capsized my vessel on each of the 2 portage landings on subsequent years. Once when a rounded rock gave way when I was getting in and another time when I was telling someone how I had floundered and without paying attention my boat drifted away while only half my body was established. I reached the point of no recovery and in I went once again. I have decided from this point forward to just jump in West lake and get it over with. But superstitious I'm not and with a healthy complement of gear we set out on what promised to be a nice day. We proceeded up the creek from West and into a feeder branch and after a tricky portage find we crossed a pothole and then into Jeff.

My first cast was rewarded with a chunky smallmouth. On my 2nd cast a nice 3.5 lb. smally blew up on the surface lure 3 times in quick succession, a truly memorable strike. After the release I was wondering if I should keep a count but that thinking proved premature as I spent the next hour releasing dinks. Dan had opted to fish out deeper and we had not been in contact for some time. Upon his approach I popped another good smally and since our plan all along had been to have a shore lunch I counted the current catch as a volunteer. Dan pulled up alongside and showed off the fruits of his efforts, a dandy Lake trout. We decided right there and then that it was time for lunch and I proceeded to a 4 star campsite that I had stayed at the previous year. We had a massive fish fry and along with the fry bread I don't recall having any leftovers.

The late afternoon found us portaging into the "secret spot", a small unnamed lake off of Jeff lake. Dan opted not to launch and we separated. This was my second excursion into this small lake and again results were marginal. I did, however, hook a good fish shallow that immediately went deep before coming unglued. I like the lake and will probably give it another go if I'm ever in the area again.

Soon I was back on Jeff Lake paddling hard. I wanted to make it back to North Bay and explore it a bit for the explosive smallmouth action it is reputed to have. I found Dan out trolling deep ( and pulling a tiny smallmouth that had attached itself to his lure) with minimal results. I had informed him of my desire to leave pronto and I was not to see him again until late that night back at camp. My hustling had left me with an hour or two to spare and I got on the nice fish in a back bay including what would of been my largest of the trip, a solid 4 plus pounder that came off after 1 amazing jump. I liked catching the bass on the shallow rocky flats, no where to go but up.

I arrived back at camp just as the mosquitos had fired up their engines and had taken to the air. At this late hour there would be no swarms of dragonflies to rescue me from the bloodthirsty villains as had happened earlier on the creek from Jeff lake. I promptly put on my sleeping clothes and retired to the safety of the no-see-um mesh.
DAY 11- JULY4
I awoke a good hour before dawn and with the help of a headlamp I ate breakfast and broke camp. I was away before 8 A.M. and I loved it. The Captain was due to follow shortly. With virtually no wind, a light fog on the water and healthy walleyes smacking my Rapala x-rap I had quite a pleasant morning. Dans non-arrival was just beginning to concern me when I caught the sun glint off his paddle. He had left his life preserver and had to turn around to retrieve it. We left North Bay and portaged into Burke where we were deluged with other trippers. I chastised the leaders of one youth group rather crisply. They were having the teenagers double pack. That is a pack in front and back. Since you can't see where to put your feet it is an accident waiting to happen.

Just as I was getting ready to shoulder my boat I heard someone in another group say, "just ask him". They had some questions about their route and wanted to know if I had any first hand experience. We broke out the map and I found out that their entry point was the same as ours had been, Sarah Lake.
"Sure" I replied, just covered that ground about 9 days ago. They wanted to know the conditions of the portages. "We have to reach Sarah Lake tonight" chirped what I considered the only strong member of their party. I hated to burst their bubble but I told them flatly to not even try. With a late start they were going to try and do what Dan and I did in a day and a half. Adding to their disadvantages was the second half of the route had a lot of steepness associated with the portages and with almost no good campsites for a large group they were asking for trouble. I pointed out the big peninsula at the far end of North Bay which would be perfect for a large group and ideal positioning for the day that followed. I was quite emphatic about what they should do and I suspect they followed my advice. I thought I could sense some relief come into the faces of the older gentlemen and even some of the teenagers seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "No ones going to bother you out here, just take it easy and have a good time" was my parting advice.

After reaching Bayley Bay an extremely large group got between Dan and I. Not wanting to paddle with a mob I hung back. I was especially slow after having to turn back and retrieve my lure from the occasional snag and fight a few small fish. I had witnessed Dan go off course and swing into Sunday Bay, stop, and eventually get back on course. The delay had caused him to think I was ahead when actually I was still 1/2 hour behind. When he got to the landing at Moose Lake he was alarmed about not finding me at the shore and was about to organize a posse of water taxi drivers to search for me when I showed up. Thus concluded our joint "solo" adventure into the Quetico.

P.S.  A rather amusing incident took place after landing and driving the twenty or so miles back to the town of Ely Minnesota.We were both famished so we stopped in at the local subway to satisfy our appetites. While standing in line I felt a curious movement behind my ear and retrieved a wood tick which I promptly deposited on my partners arm as casually as could be. We had battled them throughout the trip and they now failed to illicit any reaction. "Here, have a tick" said I. Just then the counter person asked to take Dans order. "Can I help you?" offered the young girl behind the counter. "Do you want a tick" asked Dan, "it's alive" he added hopefully. Quite a few people heard the exchange and chuckles abounded. A famous comedian once said that "timing is everything" and this was certainly a case in point.

THE PLANNING
Other than my initial solo trip doing the 100 plus mile hunters island loop this was my most enjoyable canoe trip to date. The advantage of 2 solo boats being loosely associated during the day and camping at the same site each night was absolutely ideal. Do what you want when you want is a nice motto. We each had our own kits and were totally independent from each other. On the flip side we had the shared enjoyment around the campfire at the end of the day. I honestly can't imagine a better scenario.

Our route was reasonably challenging and could even be considered a bit ambitious for the Captain. He did most of the route finding and was very competent. In fact, he didn't really need me at all. I was most pleased after reaching our goal of Conmee lake that Dan decided to return by a more difficult route instead of re-tracing our steps. We covered most of the return in 2 days making respectable mileage each day.

Our tripping styles are somewhat at odds. I'm a goal driven person. Get here today and there tomorrow. Get up early, start early and beat the wind, rain and other campers to that 5 star campsite. Get the work done and then relax, that's my style (or fish which is the opposite of relax but that's another story). Although Dan may not have really developed a tripping style yet he seemed to be in a more "come what may mode". This included side trips and examining the flora and fauna. On at least 2 occasions this was the cause of some frustration and concern on my part but only because of unmet expectations. When someone starts out only a few minutes behind you and they aren't seen again for an hour or two it does prove to be unsettling. This could easily be remedied by a more judicious use of the radio. There is no right style, only different. Again the solo boats were the saving grace. Alone on a lake with a fishing rod in my hands I can amuse myself quite easily.
THE EQUIPMENT
As usual I brought to much stuff especially fishing stuff. My kit performed as well as usual. Some modest changes may include dry bags that are not all the same color and a few technical pieces of clothing to fill the gap between times when a raincoat might be overkill. The one addition I am quite pleased with is the rain tarp. With the addition of the ropes and center pole the tarp comes in a little heavier than I would like but the results can best be summed up by quoting Dan, "It made the trip". Or saved the trip if you will. The tarp allowed us to have an almost normal routine during the 18 hours of rain we experienced. The prospect of spending non-fish time cooped up in a little solo tent is most unappealing indeed.

It was interesting to note the differences between the Captain and myself concerning core philosophical approaches concerning equipment. Dan is a self described minimalist. I would probably be 180 degrees of that and would have to accept the label of gear junkie. As a consequence my pack was at least double and more likely triple the weight of my partners. Anything that could add to my comfort level was up for consideration. That is why my stove requires no pumping or priming just screw the burner on and flick a bic. Instant flame from blow torch to gentle simmer. Of course the trade off is weight. I also carry a small tripod chair that I think is a "must have" item. My luxury edition therm-a-rest comes in at a whopping 4 lbs., well, you get the idea. Dan on the other hand had a tent that did not utilize tent poles. A bit of ingenuity had to be employed at each campsite but despite some modest grumbling on his part from what I could see an adequate structure was erected each night. The vast majority of his food supply was freeze dried and when his fuel supply ran low he merely hydrated his meals without heating them and he seemed perfectly content. I wouldn't be surprised to see him without a stove on subsequent trips. I, on the other hand, am wondering what I can omit to make room for a back packers oven. Hmmmm, some freshly baked corn bread sounds good. Maybe I won't omit anything, what's another pound or two? In any event the two styles are quite juxtaposed. Again I feel neither are right just different. I suspect we will both gravitate toward the middle. I could certainly stand to lose some superfluous gear and I can see Dan adding a few things to expedite matters.

The Captain had made mention to me how he had difficulty understanding how I, with twice as much stuff, was always packed up before him when we struck camp. A mystery to be sure!
THE FISHING
The quality of the fishing experience in the Quetico cannot be overstated. It is, without question, a world class fishery for many different reasons. The natural beauty of the Canadian shield area and Quetico in particular are truly superior. While the waters are not considered exceptionally fertile there is trophy fish potential on any given cast. I enjoy the entire package of fishing these exceptionally beautiful and challenging lakes. Other than the fishery in the back country of Glacier National Park this has to be my favorite fresh water fishery.

I had mentioned earlier that I had brought to much fishing stuff and ultimately it will have to be reduced but on this trip I liked having a multitude of choices. I really gave a conscious effort to sample from the variety I had brought and was really glad I did. The surprise baits were the Rapala x-rap, the Zulu soft bait and a gold chatterbait ( which had nice versatility). The Lucky brand stickbaits performed well while trolling but seemed especially prone to fish shaking off due to the barb being removed.

I also like having the big baitcaster and chucking the big topwater prop baits for northerns. I can see a day when a really big northern is going to crash the 8 inch lure and what a sight that will be. As it was I had a hammerhandle clear the water by three feet to attack the lure. I was also surprised at how many smallmouths crashed the big plug. I suppose the florocarbon leader helped in that regard.

We had 2 hard cold fronts that put the fish off for a day or two. One of the fronts coincided with our arrival at Conmee lake and the pursuit of the trophy walleye fishery there. Conmee was a somewhat complex lake that really required a depth finder to unlock its mysteries. My search for the reef proved fruitless and a variety of presentations drew nary a strike. In 2 days of fishing only 1 walleye graced my gunnels. A good fish to be sure but not the 8lb fish I was seeking. I would like to return to Conmee and give it another go and Suzanette as well.

While the average size of the fish I caught were very nice indeed I caught no trophy fish. I did best on the smallmouths landing a goodly number in the 17" to 19" range but none over the magical 20" mark. Next up were the walleye and excluding the 17" I caught at West Lake all the others seemed to be cast from the same mold. All weighing right at 4lbs and I estimate the length at 25". Nice fish and feisty too. The lakers were a bit of a surprise but they really shouldn't be by now. I catch some shallow every year including my biggest, a brute caught in North Bay in August last year trolling a Rapala tail dancer. I did poorest on one of my favorite fish, the pike. Lots of small ones but only one over 30". Where they were, what they wanted and what was the feeding window all remain unanswered. Back bay or mid lake reef?

Of course on a canoe trip it's surprising just how much time is spent in not fishing. While I pride myself in always running a line, most of the day is used up in breaking camp, paddling, portaging and setting up. It's all part of the game and I can't wait to give it another go.

THANKSGIVING
I wish to impart a special thanks to my wife who all to often endures frequent separations without great protest.
Kudos also goes to Dan my traveling partner whose company was most beneficial to the overall enjoyment of the trip. The memorable dinner he treated us to at a semi-swanky dinner club overlooking lake Superior will also be remembered.
Most of all I thank the Lord of heaven and Earth. It is written that not even a sparrow will fall to the ground without His knowledge of it. His care is gratefully acknowledged.