In a hurry to just get done what needed to be done, while setting up the tent in the hot, late summer sun I jammed the fly pole right through the fabric. Damaged shelter a “dog-gammit” I wanted to say, but with Justin and his young lad watching over I acted cool and kept making camp. Justin ducked away a moment, returning to offer some Tuck tape. Through wind and heavy rains and all the finer weather days would this tape hold, on this “Solo Roady North..?”
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***** NO PICS IN THIS ONE. INSTEAD THEY’RE FOUND IN THE 1 to 2 MINUTE VIDEO SEGMENTS ALONG WITH BITS OF FISHING FOOTAGE TAKEN FOR EACH DAY. ENJOY!!! *****
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EMPTY NEST.

Pulling the Bomber from home to Mattice, the 893km’s door to Stevie Zebco’s door set a record 9 hours and 20 minutes. Warp speed! Sipping 14.6L/100K of dirty diesel against a head wind and gravity, I blasted off with Biggs & Barr before the earth shifted just enough that all signal was lost. Some GNR, GVF, RHCP & NOFX I pretty much traveled through all the consonant-elations with only one “O”hhh WTF is my DEF fluid doing now moment. High speed, wide load, deep dragging intergalactic diesel runs make for plenty NOx. If only my own urea was good enough to leak into the DEF tank at any space station stops along the way, then there’d be a never ending supply of clean diesel emission fluid. And if you’re following this to the letter you’re either a trucker or Petro attendant, and if you’re not, you’re probably still stuck on “O” waiting for Houston HQ to give you any kind of A”O”K.

At Stevie Z’s and the lovely Amelie’s my empty fuel tank was filled with sweet home cooking and delici”o” red wine. After dinner Stevie rode me on over to his new river front property on the outskirts of town. A work in progress, the wooded land seemed quite a prime location to build some new chapters of their lives upon.

Got away early the following morning driving through a heavy fog. Once the skies reopened a good distance had been covered when somewhere in a middle of nowhere, bored and bothered I just sorta began asking myself what the Hell I was doing away from home? An empty nest remained behind, Brenda alone and surely throbbing that our second born had spread her wings. Our children, our lives, our times together and our future, my girls would enter my thoughts often during the coming days… Life was changing for us empty nesters.

Full parking lot found at the launch I was readying gear when a familiar fella and his son approached. Justin and his lad were taking an afternoon break from fishing and while hanging around there chin wagging with them awhile a bigger crowd soon arrived. Dan, Dan and Crabby Joe rolled up in style primed to lay some daytime beats on trouty treats, before hollering late cheers over some campfire beers. Who knew what a crew would assemble there and then..?

Hungry for stew, after finishing an early supper and too much yapping I’d be ready to launch. While heading out to the big blue another friendly yokel was coming in, Tyler. Quick pleasantries going in opposite directions he was eager for home, I was ready to fish. Preliminary reports from Tyler and others were that the lakers had been on but turned off today, specks on last week but off this week, and the pike just off. Good guy that Tyler. But it was the fifth or sixth cast that any other’s and their fishing quickly didn’t matter.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 1. Specks
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Seen plain as day in the video the action was pretty fast the first evening. Would finish out with a few great specks, a few great shots and some crowd surfing with the lot, before calling it a night.
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ONLY FOOLS RUSH OUT.

Back bacon and egg breakfast sando down the hatch I was on the water for 6am. It was a cool, dark morning but I had been stripped down in the tent through the night and plenty warm. The Tuck tape holding. On the water was a thick fog that bled into a peaceful, quiet and rather exceptional sunrise.

Being first to visit a number of different spots apparently the specks hadn’t got the memo to bite. Switching to lakers I was very optimistic finding them up and off bottom but apparently they weren’t informed of breakfast either.

The day was heating up something fierce and with no fish boated I wasn’t sure if the ripe B.O. brewing was from a heat or a stress sweat. Seemed more like stress, that odor always the stinkier of the two. Headaches and muscle aches distressing too, it might have been a bit of sun stroke starting so to better cool down I decided on taking a long run out on the lake to temper me down. Figured on having lunch too once getting where I was going.

Along the way I saw a familiar boat and going by some folks waved. Turning towards I saw my friend Keith and soon met his son Caden and father Stan. Their fishing was slow but they were only just getting started. Staying on the lake awhile, I knew there’d be plenty time to enjoy their company later so the boat kept cruising.

The water was glass when I found specks willing to eat. Lot more chasers than takers but I was taking what I could get. Spot hopping much of the early afternoon, keeping on the move, when I damn near reached the middle of the lake crossing there was a line in the water where complete still built itself up into little 1 ½ foot waves for some totally unknown reason? Pressing onward awhile to a fishing spot it turned into a very different day, got grumpy and bumpy. Not liking that, the Bomber pointed back to which way it had came and right there at that same place in space crossing back over, the waves disappeared and all was calm again. Twilight Zone shit really.

Did some piking. Found some pike. Had two big pike side-by-side both follow one cast back to the boat but neither did dart for the lure. Weird? Didn’t like the pike day, they were so very off.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 2 Specks.
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On tour back to camp I’d pop another couple specks and find a one-bar hotspot for a little cell reception. At home Bren was doing fine, just a leak coming through the basement ceiling and she was looking to cut a hole through the floor. FFS!!! In a lawn chair by a fire with friends, it took very little gin and even less whiskey to settle my nerves.
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ANOTHER BIG…

What was with these morning headaches? Pissing rust and stiffer than steel there’d be a good chance the electrolyte needle was pointing to low. On the water I’d bump into another guide, Adam. Quick pleasantries going in opposite directions he was eager for pike, I was ready for specks. Preliminary reports from Adam were that the big pike had been off and his guests didn’t wanna fish anything else. Long as they’re happy. Good guy that Adam.

Hammerfest on the specks that morning punching a good eight to the net. Well, watch the video and you may see that one didn’t actually quite make it, but I counted it anyways.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 3. Specks
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Keith, Stan and Caden were out chasing lakers for the morning. We were going to meet at noon and maybe take off to the blue zone but when he told me his boat had already caught 7 or 8 lakers in a couple hours, well we both felt totally content to stay put.

The bite was totally weird though, totally different, like nothing I’ve ever done. Keith is absolutely an accomplished angler with somewhat of a different skill set than myself, when he told me what was going on I was like… like… HUH!?!? Really?!?

My next four hours I put six in the boat and dropped two. Couple high teeners but no over twenties. Never fished that way before, not on purpose anyways, although I was more than happy to add a new trick to the bag. Thinking about it later, it started to make sense. For you readers though, you’re just not gonna get the goods on this one, it was game changing shit that turned a tough bite into an incredible one.

Keith’s boat popped a total of 20 lakers. Just awesome!!! Caden and Stan being treated to one of the lake’s finest days. Our buddy Craig showed up too, with their friend Kev. Evening festivities all shaped up perfectly.
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BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

Little sleep I was up and out well before the sun. A warm, south blow forecast, the waves would stay kind for the day where the Bomber was heading.

Got a couple lost a couple but the specks were slow, the lakers were slower and the plan was to just go and get away from every other boat. Wanted to revisit an area I hadn’t been in a few years and once arriving there it appeared others thought the same, two more guides were working the water. Recognized Gord but didn’t know who the other guy was. It was funny when our eyes locked through binoculars. Awkward…

Crabby Joe had offered up some of his wife’s most excellent potato bacon soup. What a treat for lunch. Though while eating in a calm back bay I found myself feeling rather… lonely! More times this trip than during any other Solo Roady I just didn’t care to be there as much. The timing wasn’t right after just being alone in Nunavut, the circumstances back home for Bren a worry, the greatest amount of traffic on the lake I’d ever seen was annoying, my lack of photos, videos and journal notes it was obvious I wasn’t into this trip like I should be. It seemed forced.

A lot of specking this day, probably 9 of the 11 hours for very few fish. Spent time just farting around on the way back to camp.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 4. Fishing.
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At the launch I just wasn’t in the mood for what happened next. Some youngins met me on the dock and were quick to ask if I was the “guy from Ottawa.” Crabby and the Dan’s had told ‘em there’s a “hardcore” from Ottawa fishing the lake and apparently as they said, “you’re the guy we need to follow around.” FFS!!!!!!!!!!!! Nice kids but kids, locals that had never been there before and more of them were going to be arriving. I swear to God they offered every kindness as they nosed into things while asking a bajillion questions. WTF is wrong with the work and fish ethics of our next Gen? It was day four for me on the lake and I’d already seen four guides, so book one of those guys.

Keith’s boat had picked up another 14 lakers, Craig and Steve another five, and some big fish caught too. A sausage ravioli supper washed down with beer, wine, gin and scotch I was invincible… for a short while anyways. Got pretty much near seeing sideways drunk that night.
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FOGGY, SOGGY, STORMY GREYS.

Slept in but didn’t matter, the Tuck tape still holding it was a damp morning, forecasted to be a wet day and figured I’d be out in it head throbbing and hydrating through thick and thin.

Laker fishing was right off-the-hook. Wore my JAWS shirt and that shirt is a lucky one. Picked up three over twenty pounds, one nearing thirty and a total of 14 for the half day. Lots of misfires too. Again, late starting it was an early evening thunderstorm that brought myself and every other angler on the lake back to the dock by suppertime, some much soggier than others. The rest of the night it poured booze like cats and dogs.
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“YOU’RE HARDCORE.”

When I pulled out from the launch around 11am the youngins were glued along a near shoreline and surely had to see the Bomber depart. Got me wondering just then if they were serious, that they would actually follow me..? Not being a nice day, the lake actually growing mean from a building northwester, I secured everything in the boat down tight and turned the nose into the big surf. Blasting off it didn’t appear any wanted to come along for the pounding.

Out there with nobody else it was bumpy in places but I had a plan. Plenty protected shorelines to try for specks on the lake, and I’d nab a few. Some calm spots for pike here and there, I’d nab some of them too. The lakers however, they shut down with the coming cold front but were harder to dig at over exposed zones.

The two gnarlier weather days both had some great little windows when all things settled beautifully but, because of the overly wet conditions the video cameras didn’t come out too much. That said, highlighting the best of the laker efforts and some more specks, there are some seriously big fish in this quick clip.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 5 & 6. Lakers.
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It’d been another lonely day actually but when back at camp Keith’s family had all come up from Thunder Bay and I received an invite to celebrate my friend’s birthday with everyone. It was so fucking great, they’re all real amazing. Having already eaten my own spinach alfredo the belly was further filled with perogies, buffalo wings and carrot cake before gifts were opened. Keith cracked a bottle of Highland Park to share with me in his celebration, after I’d polished off my bottle of gin. Unforgettable evening.
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CADEN.

As of this year Keith’s 13 year old son Caden had fallen in love with fishing. Bit hard by the bug, he’d been receiving a spoiling from spring through to now, catching some great specks, lakers, walleye and pike on the big lake. Intrigued by everything, well mannered and funny, he is a young lad of many questions and on this morning Keith had his boat full with his wife and daughter so, I happily offered to take Caden with me.

The Tuck tape still holding I was up and ready to go in good time. At 800am Caden was to meet me and off we go, he came running down to the launch dock just in the nick of time.

Keith’s boat had been doing a lot of laker fishing for the past several days, Caden hadn’t caught a speck this making that our plan. The first hour started slow as I kinda figured it would, but the hope was a windswept spot would better pan out. It did!

First nice big speck went to me, a 24.5-incher but Caden got the next just a few casts afterwards. Perfectly executed the kid lit up like a Christmas tree when his fish hit the net.

We’d switch to lakers and just run one rod, taking turns. Caden was up first and that first was a dinkeroo so I gave him the next shot too. Well good thing, because the rod slammed hard and the kid leapt onto it like a leopard on a gazelle. Right away he knew the fish meant business, tearing off line. I wondered a minute if he didn’t have the biggest this Lund may have ever seen, but he didn’t, what he did have was one helluva nice fish and new personal best over 20 pounds. So very excited about it I couldn’t help but be lifted by his spirit. If able, Caden would have been welcome in the Bomber all week, cause for me the company and his young, fresh enthusiasm were just what was missing on this Solo Roady. It was my favorite day, a real pleasure.
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VIDEO LINK: Day 7. Fishing.
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Keith’s family had to return home so I took Caden back to the dock. A good enough time for me too, I just called shortly after dropping him off, so not so hardcore after all. Arriving at the launch in darkening and dreary weather I had some words with a local asshole who was readying his Kingfisher. Looking around at the parking lot I had never seen so many vehicles and trailers with even more just pouring in too. I decided that with some unfavorable weather ahead it may just be time to call it a trip.

Readied the gear for a next day departure but Keith and now Kevin remained behind with me. Family, friends, fun and finances, that balance, over more drink and eats we enjoyed each others company and pondered life’s 4F’s, then got talking our bucketlists too. We have it pretty damn good really. Hope to see Keith and all his family and friends again.

That night I slept in the cab of the truck, the next morning eager to hit the road home to Bren. The fabric of this one may have been a little damaged from it’s beginning, but that Tuck Tape held on ti’ll the end.

Thanks again for coming along,
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Bunk.
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