Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotions” was the first tune to come on as Bren and I pulled out of the driveway early one Tuesday morning. Biggs & Barr kept us company until out of Ottawa’s radio range just a little ways beyond Cobden. Bren lays a rule that we must take only one hour turns for each others particular musical preferences to play, and so FFS she starts off with Adele!
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Day 1. FUEL ECONOMY.

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Little to no traffic the road north is easy sailing. While on route the phone binged and in my email was a contract to work up north this summer for a few weeks in Taloyoak. Nice to be wanted! Bren would squeeze in three naps to my one on the drive and, she’d suffer about the same number of hot flashes too. What is a hot flash you ask, well it’s when a woman’s engine starts over-heating before finally quitting.

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Twelve hours to StevieZ and Amelie’s in Mattice was a little longer than the usual but only because several miles of mudpit shit laid between Moonbeam and Kapuskasing. A filth bath all over everything forced a stop after pulling through it, hit the car and boat wash once we made is past. After that, needed the gas fill for the boat and gericans, a $525 touch.

In Mattice we were greeted and served with a nice lasagna supper. Stevie went to work the nightshift and we watched a little disappointing Oilers hockey.
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Day 2. NAUTICAL DISASTER.

Had heard The Hip a little and seen the “Courage” video on the tube back in the 90’s, yet wasn’t much into that band before that time. Walked into a party at Chris Burke’s place, over on the street with the Giant Tiger in Perth and it would turn out that the entire night there the Fully Completely album would be on repeat. Surely some chemical influences the mind opened to accepting this new music into my headspace and before I knew it, I had the cassette fully and completely on repeat in the delivery truck at work.

Bren and I had big Husky breakfast, a Klotz Lake pit stop and Longlac diesel fill. We talked about moving to the Thunder Bay area, something I’d be willing to do but Bren has her reservations. It’s a more racist area of Ontario towards First Nations.

All together we made it to the camp around 1:00pm and were totally unloaded and completely set-up in a couple of hours. We knew a little rain was expected later on so it was wise to get the kitchen and gazebos done too.

We left soon after on a glorious, flat, calm, sunny afternoon. First order of business was to check some laker grounds a goodly run away from camp. Amelie got things started over in their boat but Bren and I couldn’t find any fish at all on an area we’ve done well on in the past.

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With the fishing being rather dead overall, an executive decision was to take a big run and try an evening with walleye and pike. We did just that! And once arriving it appeared we would evict four anglers out of Iowa to go fishing elsewhere, for we were taking over their little trolling stretch with our couple boats casting.

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Bren and I couldn’t buy a fish. We knew the eyes were there but they didn’t want to hit our shit. Stevie and Amelie on the other hand, they broke out the LiveScope and before long were cherry picking some bigger eyes from the random numbers they were spotting. Stevie’s flasher got a hard-on!

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Bren and I wandered off to explore the expanse of water, we found some deeper holes up to 15 feet, with fish, but couldn’t catch anything. There were infinite schools of 2-3 inch brownish, thin minnows seen everywhere on the surface. The forage in the area vast, and trying to mimic what we were seeing with lures still didn’t help us much. Bren actually managed to pop a first tho.

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As we returned to Stevie and Am we hear his excitement, Stevie has a giant on the line. He boats it then gloats it cause it’s his new G.O.A.T! A 30.5-inch beauty. Well done mon chum!

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After witnessing this I finally turned on my scope too. Those two were hollering over to us frequently with reports of big eyes being seen coming in and out on their Live, once plugged in and dialed eventually I too was spotting bigguns in the mix. Before long, a giant of mine was hooked and once landed and measured, it too hit 30.5 inches. Well, it was actually a 30.4 incher but so close we rounded to the half on the instant call. Give Stevie the nod, he truly got the one and was surely happy for it. I’ll happily be runner-up though.

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It was nearing 7:00pm and I had my eye on some weather creeping in. Hoped it would past more west of us but clearly some narrrsty shart was about to blow down in our way. We began to exit the area but the minute we reached the lake the water began frothing and boiling from below. I fucking felt we were in terrible trouble, totally exposed and with nothing but shallow shores, sand flats and rocky spots all about us.

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All bloody hell broke loose in a flash. Thunder, lightning, several water spouts whipped up, violent winds. The water in an instant went from flat to froth to fuckin’ gnarly. We turned the bows into it and began pounding out towards a nearby point that I knew was a treacherous little windbreak full of rock shoals and boulders. There would be no getting to shore, only spot-locking it exposed in shallows there. Back turned from the pelting winds and rains, hoping the lightning would strike elsewhere we waited out an hour or so for the initial hammering to gas out a little. What we were left with after that, well, a wind switch that now bared down on us from the direction back to camp. Four to five footers we had no choice but to start into ‘em and take the lumps and bumps for however long it’d be beating our path back.

StevieZ and Amelie plotted the straight course and with the smaller boat took it a bit slower, keeping that bow right high. Bren and I in the tiller did a lot of zig-zagging and used an island wind break at one point. For the most part we were totally exposed to the big section of the lake. Everyone hated it but the further I got us along the more assured I felt we were going to be fine, nothing tragic would come of this. Instead of an hour it took two and when we finally landed back at the camp “I looked up to the Gord above and said hey man, thanks!”

The ladies were none to happy about this. Stevie was drenched head-to-toe to the bones and inside out backwards upside down again. I’d dry off quick, Amelie would dive into a sleeping bag to warm herself, Bren poured a pitcher of wine and I got started on our supper, some shrimp and scallops with ravioli.

All agreed we need to remember to stay smart, check the weather before heading out and plan to surf home with any expected winds, not go against. This day wasn’t in the plans at all though. I remembered we’d get some some potential 30K gusts around 8:00pm but not 90K and storms. Nipigon does whatever it wants, whenever it wants.

By 12:30am we collectively tucked into bed. Sunburnt eyes and weathered souls we surely fell fast asleep.
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Day 3. OUR DAMN PIKE & DORY GLORY.

Woke on the ground stiff and a bit sore, apparently the mattress leaks, great! A rather blowy, cold, drizzly and miserable morning we didn’t need go too far and fast anyways.

Spent an hour in the morning scavenging for wood. Everyone pitching in a good pile gathered up and all took some turns chopping, snapping and splitting up logs in whichever clever ways we could.

Once the weather improved enough to venture out, all seemed rather tentative to stray very far from camp. Previous day experiences still loomed overhead as did threatening forecasts yet to arrive.

Bren and I went one way, Stevie and Amelie another. Our first stop we quickly lost a speck before being overrun with pike, so we switched places. Unfortunately next stops were barren and before long we were parked on a beach collecting driftwood for our fires and heating some soup for lunch.

Dory is Steve and Amelie’s boat and they were onto another level of early bite. We’d all be on the water from noon ti’ll 8:00pm this day with plans to meet up at 6:00pm for some piking and well, during those first six hours Dory was in her glory boating a number of fish.

On a quality fishing spot and again dialing in on schools of fish with the LiveScope, the specks, walleye and pike all in an area together were no match for these sharpshooters. A big eye over 28-inches was caught, all specks 20-inches and over and Amelie opened up the trophy over-forty-inch pike category for our trip. What a slay for the champs on a day we all felt lucky just to be out.

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We’d all take a peek for some pike later on but come to learn quick they weren’t where they were supposed to be. The one bonus was, the longer the day went the better the weather became and at least Bren found a decent one. That was kind of our day, ten pike boated for us and that would be all.

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Sunset for 10:00pm and everyone back to camp at 8:00pm, we had several hours of calm and warmth to enjoy. A big fish fry planned, a plentiful amount of fresh walleye and one trout battered and fried up crisp in the cast iron in peanut oil and accompanied with homefries, onion, beans, lemon, sour cream, hot sauce and alcohol beverages, this made for a great feast by a fire. We all love that part of our trips, a lot!

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Playful tongues and no fuck youz, the skies cleared and bright stars put us all to bed, but not after some chin wagging and cheers
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Day 4. BIG FAT WHITEY.

A no no the evening before set off a rather annoying chain reaction. While fileting fish some gulls waited for scraps and sure enough we had just tossed those in the water near camp. Amelie said that was bad, as the gulls would never leave now… and she was right. It was just after 5:00am and through earplugs this one real asshole of a shithawk cawed, squealed and screamed at us for more than an hour. Had we a gun there may have been a morning homicide. To make it worse, I slept on the root of a tree on sloped ground and felt like a damn pretzel in parts, my guts too were being rather fussy. So I laid there for the next few hours thinking… should I just get up, make some coffee? The sun was at least trying to shine.

It was by 8:00am I finally did rise and soon as vacating the tent it began to rain. Those bad guts kicked in with the coffee and three times I had to run off dancing with our roll of Cottonelle. Do love camp coffee though…

Winds expected to only reach 10 knots this day we were all kind of late to shove off shore on what we hoped would be a big, distant, fruitful fishy tour. And after boating for an hour we started off the very late morning quite alright with specks.

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Bren and I arrived to investigate a new shoal and as we cast away surely noticed life there about. First a speck followed her lure to boat side a couple of times but unfortunately wouldn’t take. Right after this, I spotted a whitefish sail us by. Rounding what I’d call the top of this structure and beginning down the other side, I had to race my lure away from a fast following pike of about 35+ inches long. Soon as the coast was clear of that menace, I felt a soft take and gradual increasing weight of a heavier fish on the line. Once finally seeing this huge whitey on my line I sure got giddy!

A finesse tug-of-war it is with these fish. They can’t afford to power and horse their pull too much and neither can the angler. Why? To do so will injure, it will rip the whitefish’s softer lips. In my limited experience with this specie, to play a whitey is to play carefully. I was still chuckling, just beside myself when Bren scooped this one up in the net. What a tank donkey!

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Bren and I would break for a chowder lunch before all of us ventured off on quite the boat ride. StevieZ and Amelie had never been to some nearby cliffs and they toured off to troll specks then lakers there. We watched from a bit of a distance while eating.

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The fishing in the area was off so we continued on. Bren and I left first, blazing towards a large, distant shallow bay which I’d never been in. Our hope was to find some afternoon pike but sadly, we had enough time to scout much of it out before Dory caught up to us, and there was nothing there to report. That spot is a matter of timing and conditions, 100% convinced of that.

So we left to a place I’d only ever passed by and never fished. A series of offshore shoals we hoped would hold specks atop of lakers along the sides. Water temps there a chilling 45C the outlook was grim for much to be happening at all and yet we gave it a bit of time on the troll. Nada, so we left.

Next stop was a large island. Along the rocky shores there can be some decent speck fishing and out deeper surrounding it can be a laker hotspot. Bren and I watched as Steve and Am set up to troll specks in tight and so we dropped one ball and a flat-line to try for greys. Took us little time at all before we pegged a smaller laker.

To our west the skies had been growing narsty looking. Steve and Am ducked into a safe harbour, presumably to shit. We toured over anyways and after finding we were right and they already relieved, the two of them feared the weather was about to take a turn. Not wrong, there was chill in the air just coming and some breeze building up a little. Wasn’t a minute passed and the rumblings of thunder could be heard in the distance. We decided to book it towards camp for we still had a bit of an exposed expanse to cross on route to our safe haven there.

I’d say we made it back just in the knick of time. BOOM came some strong winds, thunder but surprisingly no rain. Having returned early and the air still warm enough, despite a pending storm the Dory team took to shore first while we offered privacy offshore. After Stevie and Amelie got washed up Bren and I took a moment for the same.

Amelie made dinner that night. Smash burgers but instead of hamburg on a bun she flattened it out in the cast iron and threw a tortilla on top. Laid flat on a plate one only has to add the fixins, roll and eat it like a burrito-burger. They were pretty damn good!

We sat awhile aside a small, windy fire which didn’t give off much. Surely, as happens most nights, I was the first to begin nodding off but, not before some tequila and a little scotch.
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Day 5. GREAT DAY FOR DUCKS.

Woke to a heavy rain. All night a heavy rain. All morning on and off heavy rains, Stevie slept in ti’ll some time after the noon hour while the ladies drank tea, played Crib and I sat there under the gazebo chewing my fingernails to the bone.

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Everything around us was soaked wet and muddy. I remembered in the forecast this period calling for about 40-50mms of rain and Mother Nature she surely pissed her full bladder down on us. Going to use the washroom during the continual misery needed to be a well timed and super speedy event. For a number of reasons I started to regret this campsite for this trip but Hell, how were we to know the weather for the week and that the overall fishing conditions would be seasonally well behind any usual schedule. However, the drips of water onto my journal pages were not yet actual tears, only rainy wind finding its way to further leave a smudge mark or two.

The climate did improve by early afternoon and we were able to make a good day of it. In fact, the lake calmed right down, the rains subsided and together we all toured a fair distance away to try our luck on an ole faithful laker spot.

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Bren picked up our only fish in the group but that was shortly after Stevie and Am left to go do other things. Our laker spot for the most part was a bust. With Dory going one way we went another. Exploring along we puttered over another laker area, checked out some camping sites I’d never paid much mind to, we did some specking and even checked out a back bay for pike. All-in-all it was a rather slow go buuuuut we did get some quality returns.

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It was 6:00pm when we were to meet up with the others and together go and investigate some pike bays. Fishing along shoreline it seemed Stevie and Am missed us when they pulled into the area but much deeper out in the blue zone. They didn’t stay long at all before booking it in the opposite direction where we had planned to go. So, Bren and I checked out a bay ourselves only to spot a number of post-spawn, battered and beaten males scurrying about and, the odd few big spooky females. Most pike just booked it as soon as the boat got anywhere near ’em or, they followed up a lure to find Bambalam at the other end. In other words, the pike fishing again really sucked when we wanted to catch them. When speckle fishing though, they’d often steal your lures.

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Day pressing on we were motor boating about when we spotted Dory in the distance. Appeared as though StevieZ and AmelieZ were onto something and getting jiggy-wit-it!

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The two confessed they were lightening them up or nothing although, they had a caught a couple nice ones. Stevie likes scoping, no joking! He’s lost his love for trolling now that he’s rolling and poling. Says its more fun with the LiveScope, he’s not wrong either cause nothing beats jigging and driving hooks.

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Day 6. HAIL & MUDSLIDES.

Everyone slept in the morning until after 9:00am, including the early bird, me. A short morning of fishing, some protected shorelines around we all squeezed in two hours of play time before lunch. Bren and I popped some pike and a very respectable, big speck off a nearby shoal. StevieZ was getting the job done in his boat as well.

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We never did stray too far away from camp and so returned there for lunch. In the afternoon forecast, evening, and overnight too, was a pending shit storm of hurricane winds, thunderstorms and flood rains. Once we finished our midday meals it all started then and wouldn’t let up for about 24 hours.

In all my time tripping to Nipigon this front had to be one of the most spectacular. Once the thunder rolled in it simply stayed with us all day and well into the night. Non-stop rumbling overhead but hardly any daytime lightning, sheets of rain came from all angles. Come night there were hours of flashing and crashing from the skies. During the afternoon too, grape sized hail pelted down while again and again the relentless rains poured.

Our camp became a muddy mess around us. The gazebos needed plenty of secure lines to keep the walls from tearing off and the roofs from lifting up. Sometimes we all had to physically hold the rooves down to keep the entire structures from being shredded to pieces. Along the shoreline Stevie remarked how one minute the boats were high and dry and the other they were floating offshore being tested to turn about on their mooring ropes and possibly beach. Some fast flowing air ripping through the kitchen that evening also managed to flip some dinner off of our table.

When the storms would give us all just a minute to relax, relax is what we did. Bren and Amelie played plenty Crib and that evening we all had some drinks while enjoying Rummy. Overall it was a team effort enduring the elements and bedtimes came early.

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Day 7. THE AFTERMATH.

Again, yes, quite certainly the worst and longest Nipigon weather day in our evers! Had to rise 4:00am to dress, find a light and check on the boats when the wind decided to hammer the tent sidewalls with some extra vigor. Boats were laying fine on a lee side.

Cold, cold morn, a north wind! Everything dripping soggy above and slick muddied below. Up before the others I sat quiet with a coffee under the canopy as another waxing of the one same endless thunderstorm slid by. Within a Pic coil force field the skitters buzzed in a distant atmosphere while three mice entertained at my feet, some corn and peppers had spilled the evening before.

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Forecast called for 30% chance of squalls, 15 knot winds out of the west for now but all calming down some in the later afternoon. This foreign entity many call the sun was to possibly make an appearance around dinner but for now, the morning was just trying to break free of some fog while we chored about and took in more caffeine.

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Bren hates my old Lund mug. It doesn’t quite clean anymore, it’s been around ‘bout 15 years. Should I let her chuck it out and get a new one?

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Just before noon we were all into the boats. Dory one way, Bambalam another, but not until after both tried for lakers together. We managed one, nothing to write home about. Amelie on the other hand found a couple specks.

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Between 3:30pm and 5:30pm the day changed entirely. All clouds dissipated, the lake went calm and the sun shone bright and hot.

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Steve and Amelie plucked a couple of lakers while we managed specks elsewhere. Overall the greys were really hard to pin down this trip, everything felt very late. The pike too, it was like they were just off or even still on the spawn or something, the boys beaten up and skittish while the big girls were scarce or spooky. Those lakers though, they were just hardly around, not at all on spots I’m used to finding them… I mean, not in great or any numbers at all. Still we managed, and were able to scrape up some with extra efforts. Jigged a late day one myself.

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As was the case many an evening I was a cheap drunk. Don’t give’r like I used to and the big, late meals after our long days of fishing added with the elements causes the eyes to go heavy and shut minutes after last bites. But, this night we all stuck it out for some cards, beverages, fire, a circus mouse show and a good drying out. Finished the bottle of tequila and scored some gasoline off Stevie. Definitely a better night for everyone.

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Day 8. SUNSHINE RUN.

Come morning Stevie and Am packed belongings for a departure home. Calm skies, drier air and some sunshine, timing was certainly in their favor. Despite most of the trip days challenging with either some water spouts, squalls, monsoon rains, hail, mud, hours of thunder and lightning, cold damp fog and relentless winds and, even a potential of some nautical disaster, Stevie and Am fished pretty damn great! Got the job done when the weather permitted they could be out after ‘em. Just wished it had of been better weather overall for though, for our teammates after missing last year needed a great return. Love these two!

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A big run for Bren and I today! Busted out after seeing our friends off and headed for specks. A speck we did find. “A” being the key word here.

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Finishing up on those we chose lakers next. A laker we did find. Again, “A” is what to take note of here.

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Day getting later and later it had seemed we were off and running everywhere in search of trout. Old spots and some hunches I had, the greys weren’t much for play… the one’s we did come across anyways. Stuck with the trolling only, no big concentrations of fish out there at all, just the odd lone mark. Covered water!

Later on I wanted to try for pike. This trip we’d hardly done any piking but unfortunately had to catch plenty when we didn’t want to. Spring pike fishing is something I quite enjoy in doses. In memory, never have I or anyone with me set out for a full day of just catching pike and pike alone. They’re a fish always mixed in with the other main species on the lake, specks, lakers and walleye. Some time after this day and while writing this now I get to thinking, how many pike could I catch and how many over forty inches boated if I just committed say a full, perfect day. Or three days, or a week. Because keep in mind, in the past there was once a trip where forty over forty inches were caught by two boats in a matter of about 16 hours.

We pulled into this one spot and for the next two hours we smashed ‘em good! Bren caught ten with two at forty inches on the nose, and I managed to boat six pike with three over forty. Biggest went to me!

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Once the day neared to an end and we were back at camp it was surely quiet. A lot of sunshine with another helping of Bren’s homemade meatloaf and rice for supper. Weather and fishing had improved.
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Day 9. TROOPERS.

After arriving on a large shoal which yielded not a single fish some days prior, I was scanning around on waypoints when the MNR pulled up tight to us for a check. It was Terry, a fella whom I had met at least once before but couldn’t quite remember what trip that was.

Terry was training a new officer this morning, and during our check we got to chatting about fishing on the lake. Helluva nice fella he remarked on several interesting things…

1. The lake was about two to three weeks behind usual, the lake trout still very much in an earlier spring mode. About two weeks is what I’d been guessing too, and Rob up at Onaman River Resort had texted some time back to tell me fish were behind schedule as well.

2. American’s camping on the lake need permits and, they are also to follow conservation rules. They cannot purchase sportfishing licenses with greater harvest allowances.

3. Dead bait is allowed on the river. For example, float fishing dead smelts. Interesting to know!

4. Terry reads my reports at the website here and has been following along for years. I’ll admit, when meeting people in such places at such times when I am told this, it feels a little humbling.

5. The old caribou calving rules for camping on smaller islands under blah blah number of acres prior to July 1, is not something enforced anymore.

The two officers left and we got some lures out. Still not having marked a damn thing we figured we’re here, why not troll the top and around the shoal for awhile. Within minutes Bren’s rod loads. An absolute toad graces the gunnels, our first of the trip over twenty pounds.

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The shoal would cough up another couple of smaller lakers around ten pound range. Later on we’d move to a large, soft bottom flat, picking up three more of similar size. A calm, dull, grey kinda day we simply kept traveling about trying different things, including structures which may house brookies. We did OK with them too, popping a total of six on the day off three different spots. Didn’t bother with pictures as all catches were rather average, again lakers about 8 to 12 pounds and specks in the 20 to 22-inch range. Standard Nipigon fare.

Some other boats seen out there on the day. One Lund out of Michigan, Nipigon Outfitting’s Sebastian in his AlumaCraft, another larger boat fishing lakers. All-in-all though, the lake was rather quiet despite the conditions being kind after our days and days of garbage.

Bren and I enjoyed some leftover fried fish and hashbrowns before calling it an early night.
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Day 10. OLE’ FAMILIAR.

A glorious sunrise Bren and I were up early, refreshed and ready to roll by 8:30am. A long run to start our day, the cool and crisp air was cleansing, refreshing, the lake shiny glass.

A planned milk route of some old familiar spots for specks then lakers we just got right to it. First stop nada! Second stop nuthin’! Third spot… “Jesus H. Fawking Christ!!!” Nothing. Nothing! OK, so the specks I was guessing were either off or the spots had been hit already..? We should have ended those three places with at least three to nine fish, maybe more..? There were a half dozen follows that wouldn’t commit so I presumed we were on some sloppy second scenario or the fish just not fully awake yet.

So we switched gears around 11:00am to lakers for awhile only to do much better. For the number of fish marked I’d call it slow but within two of hours pulling baits we’d pop some little ones and a couple of good bigger greys too. An upcoming trip to Great Bear Lake in the NWT for myself, there was no need I reel in any lakers this round. Wanted to ensure Bren enjoyed herself and she surely did. Some great fishing!

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We took a tour, cooked some lunch and explored a little while checking some back bays for pike. Finding some around it was obvious they were in midday sunning mode and not up to eating. A couple of runts chased but all other big fish sighted only vacated the premises. It was good to take note where they were though, in some of these areas I hadn’t checked in years because they had often been absent back then. Conditions change on Nipigon yearly, weekly and of course daily, it is a lake where experience with that comes very much into play. Each day in fishing presents a new puzzle, with new challenges, and like a game of chess the more practice you have, knowledge of the game, the better your chances of taking the king. The very first moves are as important as the last and sometimes too, especially with timing, you have to give up on things in the present for creating better opportunities later.

Pike on sunny, flat afternoons you’re more often better to just leave alone. For the number you might catch, the majority of them you won’t. You’ll give yourself and your lures away in the process. I always just make a point that they were there and when the timing and conditions are better, return and slay them then. This relates more to clear water fisheries than stained though, the latter is more forgiving in sun… Anyways, fish smarter not harder. Why spend the day working tough period pike when you could take that same time fishing those prime conditions for lake trout, or even specks! Nipigon is a place where two hours piking at the right time can yield more fish than a week of fishing your days during the wrong times. No joke!

So this is what we did this day! Left the pike alone figuring we’d go back in during lower light hours. Around 4:00pm now, it was beginning to get sweltering hot out and a haze was building on the lake, the water was totally flat, I was down to the boxer shorts… We tried again for lakers on an old spot I knew and managed to find some dandies waiting for us there. Fish wanting to eat, unlike the pike. One hit the lure while I was reeling in to change up so yeah, that one ended up being a “me” catch. Bren on the other hand caught a few of ‘em for herself, including a rather robust beauty.

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We hadn’t strayed too far from a loaded pike bay and come evening were making plans to head back in when just then another boat came around a corner to slide in first. Had seen this dude sniffing around other pike areas earlier. Not being a dick on a lake as big as this one, I won’t cram into a spot unless the next place is either really stupid far away or, I have just made too long a run already to fish right there. We didn’t need the pike that badly Bren and I, and she often prefers to fish lakers first, specks second, walleye third and pike last. So we left to try for specks elsewhere, considering my plan had back-fired.

As always Bren was the perfect boat and camp partner all the week long. No one reads my mind and keeps the same pace as well as she, our teamwork is quite natural after so many years tripping together. We got on pretty well.

We enjoyed some blueberry and maple pork sausages with the end of our potatoes. Carb loaded and BOOOOM we was out like dem lights.
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Day 11. WARNING.

It was our final day and we planned to escape. After two awesome days of sun and fishing all the gear in camp had dried out and cleaned up until the pitter-patter of spitting rain began to fall near 5:00am. Fyyyuuuck!

Of course it didn’t just stop then it needed to spit down on us for the remaining seven hours ti’ll noon. So, in the rain we packed camp up wet, loaded the boat and made haste.

The winds were building as well. Our timing was just right to get out of there. An hours ride back to the launch I was forced to “triangulate” a route so to ride a little more between the waves rather than take mondo-splashes in the face if trying to plow into ’em with Bambalam’s full load.

By the time the truck was all packed up, the boat trailered, everything put away and secured for the four hour drive to Steve and Amelie’s place, the rain stopped.

Before Geraldton I came around a corner heading down a hill when a female Copper clocked me at 23km’s over the limit. 113 in a 90 zone! FFS really? Anyhow, she was cool enough to just give me a warning.

That night after a wing dinner we all tied a buzz on and played some cards. The next morning we snuck away to start the remaining eleven hour run home.

Wouldn’t say for our boat we really pounded the numbers of fish this trip that we usually do. Conditions were tough not just from the relentless shit weather but also patterning the fish which were slower to find their fins than in more normal years. But when it was all said and done I was quite happy with the quality. Trophy size fish were boated in all four species plus a new best whitefish for myself, how many places does one know where that caliber of fishing exists? To me there’s no more complete and fun and challenging a fishery out there than Nipigon. The worlds biggest brookies plus giant lakers, pike, walleye, whitefish and even ling, an angler could spend a lifetime exploring the lake while pursuing the greatest of fish species found all together in one place.

Guess I’ll call it at that. ti’ll next time, thanks for reading.

Bunk.
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