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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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