“If you could make any animal 200 pounds, what would win in any fight? Call the Dugy Line with your answer.” Honey badger, wolverine, crocodile, eagle… ant! Yeah, the ant I thought for sure. Imagine a 200 pound ant..? You know, according to Google it would take about one million average-sized ants to make up just one pound of ants. And if an ant is capable of carrying like twenty times it’s own body weight, well that would equate to an average human lugging around like 4,000 pounds, at maybe even an ant-man speed of fifty miles an hour. Stan Lee must have been onto something really, an Ant-Man or an ant of a man’s size could truly contend with Marvel villians, the average crocodile, larger genital biting badgers or a wolverine, and most certainly some wimpy eagle. The person who called CHEZ 106 to Biggs & Barr with the ant answer was certainly more sharp that morning than I was. A 200 pound ant’s jaws could totally shred ya in an instant. It’d be the easiest Knipex snip and there, whatever it is would be half… The whole movement was put right to rest when the first song of the trip came on the radio after this big question. “Take It Easy,” by you guessed it, those Eagles wanting no part of any confrontations with ants. Are ants “animals” though, if not maybe we gotta start over?

Bren and I were burning diesel outta the valley headed North by 6:30am. Across Ontario & Quebec forest fires were ablaze and smokey days filled our air, we were headed to the source. A total Provincial fire ban in effect, all wondered how camping for the week would go without our nightly rituals around some heat by flame. Times passed have brought us frigid nightly temps and cold driving rains, even snow, that could last several days. This time around it’d be lantern light and Buddy heaters getting us through. Yet despite that little change to our usual, all were eager and excited to get on with 2023’s couples trip to our favorite place, Lake Nipigon.

Nights before departure the Agent StevieZ and I prepared for our mission. We’d wondered about needing disguises, especially for him, if he was going to be hanging around with me!

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We’d also need to devise some new top secret code. You see, before the evil Government’s drone fleet set it’s countries forests ablaze, in it’s infinite wisdom they also recently decided that providing radio marine forecasts for our big lake was no longer necessary. Far cheaper for them to let boaters and canoeists peril in storms or have to call in search and rescue, rather than just keep an automated voice message recycling what Environment Canada types onto their website during scheduled intervals each day. So, headed to a place where cell signals are spotty to none we had to come up with a new plan, one which conveniently Stevie was set up for. Through the InReach we’d have the almighty God of Weather Zeus, (aka John J. Bunker my father) provide us with the morning report we need for safer passage. An ex-pilot and master of online news and forecasts who just happens to be long retired from controlling mine and my brothers very existence, he was actually quite willing to help. So after running it by Agent StevieZ (recently promoted to Inspector but then quickly demoted back to Agent for a very condisceniferential reason) my partner gave the nod and we sent Zeus the code for our newest “Mission Fishin’ Impossible.” Please review as if your life depends on it.

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Traffic over the eleven hour drive was quite minimal, with plenty of boaters on the move too. Most of the trip at the wheel, late afternoon Bren took over while I caught a shhnooze. For the day were were both doing alright with each others playlists, except when Bren would choose to sing… cause she can’t do that, not well, not at all, nor even get the lyrics right half the time. She’s kind of a screamer too, like Yoko Ono but more angry Satan-like in her voice. “in your closet in your head,” Metallica, “Zombie, Zombie, Zom-bay-hay-hay” by Cranberries are just a couple of examples of tunes she’s going to deafen you with. We arrived for dinner in Kapuskasing and that settled the hangry, I ordered the “Drunken Pig” burger. A couple hours later we arrived at Steve and Amelie’s place for hugs and spirits.

A short but good sleep through the night Bren and I got back on the road for 5:45am. A stop in Hearst for breakfast we caught sight of Stevie’s new boat outside MacDonalds. Nice rig bud! Someday it will actually will be yours.

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Again the traffic was light and we made shhmashing good time. A number of black bears wandering along the highway, we did have to slow a time or two for them but otherwise the Sierra just drove right through and over ’em fast and easy. As always we stopped at the Klotz Lake site for a potty rest and pictures. It’s a scenic area where you can often see a boat on the lake fishing the morning walleye bite or a trucker rinsing his toothbrush with his own piss. I’ve had to pick up a passed out Agent Stevie Zebco here a time or two. A simply beautiful day to be on the road through Nord Ontario, we made it to Nipigon for a final fuel fill, ice and lunch, then onward we went…

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A STUMP OF TREES.
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At the launch a north breeze was blowing when some boaters came in from the lake. “It’s starting to get a little rough out there,” some fella with his family said. Looking out I couldn’t see a single whitecap, not even a one. I thought to myself, okay, get going then, more room on the lake for us.

A full boat we set cruise at 28mph and sailed the smooth seas. Bambalam (my 1875 Pro Guide) carries capacity for 1000 pounds and I’d bet we were right near that. The Yamaha pushed us along flawlessly. Not the first time either that another boater has come in worried and warning over nothing. It wasn’t rough at all, a very quick and easy run to find a camp and several hours later home was all set up, we’d finished a late afternoon pizza lunch and the Lund had been readied for fyashing.

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Main basin water temps were 38-41F but along shorelines, in and around islands and back in any various bays the heat could rise to low 60’s. I figured for our week the water would be more trouble for lakers than anything else. Those lower readings often keep them scattered, high, low, shallow, sometimes slow and basically anywhere on the lake they want to be. During our travels to camp we’d toured over some great grey trout areas only to see not a single boat out fishing. That doesn’t usually equate to being a great sign for a decent bite. So first thing first was a short speckie troll to see what they might be up to instead.

They weren’t biting but the pike were! Bren reeled in a 41.5-incher to start things off.

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Pretty much immediately we switched to pike fishing, taking off to check some various waypoints. The fish weren’t where I’d expected them to be, they’d moved… albeit not too far away. Once locating the herd it got stupid out there that first evening. Forty-inch class fish everywhere and sighting them was not a problem, getting them to bite, that took a little more work. Over a couple short hours amidst “a stump of trees” Brenda had oddly named the spot, we’d finish up with about two dozen over the gunnels including five comfortably and well over the trophy mark.

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Loons called us back to camp for a nice meatloaf dinner, a drink and an early night to the tent. A long day well worth it.
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SLOW BURN.

No shortage of hungry mosquitoes there were layers glued to the screen mesh of the tent waiting for us once we woke. A fire ban sure, I didn’t think a Pic coil outside the door could be against the rules.

It was a cooler morning with a bright sun rising. A bit of headache, the brain was foggy too from all the travel. Coffee and a big breakfast sandwich were certainly good medicine for that.

Bren and I cruised over glass calm waters to a laker spot we know. Before setting out lines I took a long while to look around and honestly saw nothing for confidence. No marks, low, low water temps. Regardless, we tried for about an hour pulling spoons without a bite.

Full switch to specks we toured further along, setting up for a troll first, cast later if finding anything. Well, it didn’t take but a minute before finding a motherlode of fish. Dozens and dozens in schools swimming about, the fish avoided the boat like the plague. None would stay in view, they got pushed right quick. There was no way long bomb casts in all directions weren’t find them though, but none would bite. We gave it a solid effort casting before returning to trolling again and, as soon as we did, the schools did show up as we motored by. After the last bunch were seen Bren and I got further up a shoreline when my rod fired. Finally, a first speck!

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Two other boats passed by us during our morning. Into early afternoon I caught many more fish but Bren not a one. I offered different things to help but she gets stubborn sometimes.

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After a chili lunch stubborn and I toured on for pike, fishing for two hours between 1:00 and 3:00pm. A hot day many big northerns were found lethargic, sunning themselves and rather uninterested in chasing lures. This said, there were so many of them that just enough were friendly to bite… and it actually turned into bit of a biggun’ beat down. Some quality fish during a short sesh, we finished tired and left plenty un-stung for a later return.

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Having traveled through an area some time ago and randomly stopping, I had left a waypoint on some deep hooks. Close enough at this point, Bren and I made the run to drop lines on what would hopefully turn out to be lakers. Coming off plane the water temps in the area were better, warmer over deep with a couple high flyers marking on the Lowrance. Took us a little while, bit of tweaking here and there during some moments of grouchy silence still left-over from earlier in the day; when Bren flattened about six eyelets on her pike rod, breaking one of ‘em off too when grinding a gunnel with a fish… I gave quick advice again though, just a reminder at that really, although it still wasn’t well received. But, a fistfull of candies and a first laker helped remedy some of her heat.

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Turned into a late afternoon scorcher out there, a faint smell of smoke in the air too. The little Suzuki ran mint, allowing the big motor some rest. Two hours drifted by with just the one laker when I asked the boss if she was up for more piking. Close to an old haunt now, it’d been some time since visiting this little spot that can often hold some big rewards. Bren had been leather wrapping rings for her dream-catcher earrings during the laker troll, she wasn’t as tired or mad at me anymore either, so she was game to changing it up.

Skitters were still crazy out there, anywhere near shorelines and even on the lake, but they wouldn’t be too much a bother for us while the fishing was on. It was Bren’s evening this one, a hot stick she got the bigguns.

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Back at camp Bren washed up while I refueled and recharged the boat before flipping some pork shnitzels in a garlic buttery cast iron. Despite our day one fatigue that included some moody moments, resting now we tempered out and I reflected on a rather good days fishing. Specks, a nice laker and a number of great big pike, we burned hot water to a boil and let’er simmer this day. Drink that in!
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THERMAL DYSREGULATION.

Well before going any further I will say the boss and me got along very well from here on out, except this one afternoon… but that’s it! A new spin around the sun the morning we started early, feeding the bellies and grooming the doos. Feeling good and looking really gooder!

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As planned from the beginning today would be the first for receiving the code! The message came in from Zeus right on time… and hoey-chit it looked like poo poo was forecasted our way.

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You reading should go back and refer to the third image posted here but for now I’ll give ya this freebie here one time. The code reads… Morning 5 to 10 knot north wind / Afternoon & evening 20 knots (still north) gusting to 33 knots. Small craft advisory in effect. In other words be ready to take shelter at some point.

Honestly thought Zeus might be on the crack! Pulling away from shore just then, the lake was glass. Morning 5-10 knots, not even..? But, Nipigon is not one to be trifled with, even if the plans for our day were to get right and waaay out there on a bender.

Specks on the docket during a rapidly warming morn my lady friend and I put a hammer on ‘em. Endless schools of suckers in shallow, the specks weren’t too far away we’d come to find. Finished up before lunch casting for a decent five.

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Did I say endless schools of suckers…?
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For a break we found a great spot to park, wash up, shave, take some pics, lather on the sunblock, hydrate and enjoy a bowl of seafood chowder along the shore. The lake still calm during the early afternoon, it was so far an absolutely perfect outing.

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Goddam she’s so beautiful… and Bren too.

After the rest and refresh we needed to cool down. Shirts off we dried boob and back sweat gunning over colder deep waters to a new laker area. Bren is in and out of layers upon layers of clothing more than anyone I know. “Thermal dysregulation,” she’s named her issue.

Another fly-by random GPS random waypoint I’d dropped some years ago, StevieZ had recently brought up the area in convo and so it was worth investigating. The Agent was right! Big contours there, and fish marking high and low over deep and shallower. After a candy dessert break Bren and I got the lines in, she pulled out an umbrella for shade, and under the deadly dead calm heat of the afternoon we popped a few lake trout as fluid retention built up enough that my feet were tingling and puffing like balloons. CHF will likely be my demise someday… or drowning. Just a guess..?

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Around 5pm I asked Bren if she’s OK with just doing some exploring. Over the past winters there have been a few areas on the lake which for different reasons have caught the eye. Some once visited, some not, for me it was on the to-do list this trip to try and examine some different places more thoroughly. And so that’s what we did! Taking a rip in the Lund we further cooled down, recharged from fishing and enjoyed looking aboot. We found widlife, a moose grazing and one noisy bald eagle who came stumbling out of the bush along the shoreline like it was injured or intoxicated. But then it took to the air totally surprising us. Also discovered two new campsites I never knew about at all, and a couple fishing spots too. All of this well worth our time.

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Margaritas back at camp, for once Bren liked my camp fajita dinner and that made me feel some butterflies in my tummy! While talking of her retirement the hours dragged on and around 9pm the lake waters rippled a bit. By 10pm Zeus would finally be right, a small craft advisory would certainly come into effect. Good to be on shore with the mosquitoes completely blown away now, retiring into a comfy tent for the night out of the storm.
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SHARP SHOOTERS!

Cold windy morning but Zeus forecasts it should improve.

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Bren and I were in no rush. The winds were gusting but certainly settling some, we wondered if and when StevieZ and Amelie might arrive. Kind of expected around early afternoon to supper-ish really. The big lake would be a bit wet riding and still choppy for lakers, and we were a little specked out from the morning before. Eventually we just took a trip for some pike. Bren kicked that fishing right into high gear on her first cast, our choice looking good… but then it shut down. Click!

Pike were following lures to the boat like crazy! Quite often we were sighting fish near surface swimming away from the boat wanting nothing to do with us. Greyer skies and a chop on the water certainly changed things and had some fish moving, but they weren’t overly aggressive for what we were offering.

Broke out the LiveScope, took a look around and changed up to a favorite finesse bait. Fish that were hidden out of view far away or deeper were now visible on screen. The first found was about 35 feet off starboard and down just two or three feet over 7-fow. A well placed cast right onto the fish and it slammed the bait, but it was missed on the hookset. Minutes later another fish on the Garmin, this one about 70 feet out… the right cast again and I pegged it right. First sharpshootin’ pike ever is a fackin’ dandy for sure! I’d sharp shoot three more before breaking for lunch, it was the only way these fish would go and admittedly, the new experience ignited some extra happiness.

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One o’clock we returned to camp for our lunch break. Wondering if somehow StevieZ and Amelie may have braved the bigger weather to arrive, well they soon answered that. Was mid way through some soup when we heard a boat motor buzzing nearby, then Dory pulled up with our smiling friends. The two reported that the ride wasn’t too bad, a bit wet with some two and odd three foot rogues which held the boat to a slower speed on route. That afternoon we didn’t bother to fish, instead helping out and making sure everyone and everything was settled in right. Come 5pm we got going… and like Bren and I had done, the incognito Agent StevieZ and Amelie were game for some first day pike fishing too.

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That evening I’d nab a second big pike for the trip. The bite not at all how it had been earlier in the day, these fish were chomping again. Not one to give away too many tricks of the trade I will say this, walleye pattern. Makes sense when the skies go grey, there is or was some chop and the water got stirred up, you’re around weeds early evening and water temps are right in their wheel-house.

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A solid number of over-forties were hoisted and countless mid to high thirty inch pike. I often try to pull my lures away lickity-split from anything that doesn’t look well over forty inches, just to save me some hassles. This evening it was action that lasted about two hours for everyone. We having a couple days head start on piking, Bambalam was doing alright with fifteen over forty so far… and if I had to guess, about a total eight hours pike fishing for the trip? So that’s like a forty plus every half hour.

Back at camp poor Bren and I had a bad case of the chili farts. She announced there would be no more of that gruel for her this trip. A meatloaf supper she complained the rice kinda tasted like plastic too… I dunno though, we all mixed it with the meat and choked it down. Amelie had brought some chocolate zucchini bread for dessert and it tasted much better than it sounds. This night in camp the mosquitoes were savagely hungry too. Thankfully our partners brought in a pile of extra Pic coils to burn cause we’d have three going at a time. One fat mouse hung around the kitchen from time-to-time too, but never, ever did it fall under a shoe. Remember the Green Mile? Such a shockingly sad scene when Percy stepped on Dell’s mouse.

There was plenty talk of past and future trips once the booze flowed and the cards came out. Some of the longest games of Rummy 500 in history were played this trip, I was happy to win the first one and just get to a bed.
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WANDERING EYES.

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Gusty winds came up over night and all woke somewhat groggy, late and maybe a little hungover too? No excuses though, we had shit to do! Planned for the day was some extra long running for walleye needed for a fish fry dinner. Right on time Zeus buzzed in with the weather and despite it looking like we’d have a bumpy wet ride heading out the morning, all would settle down nice for our return.

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On arrival StevieZ held back to search over deeper water. He hoped to find bigger fish in the area than what we had experienced before. Bren and I instead moved in shallower, to where there’s plenty of variable depths, currents and structure. The bottom line from the beginning is that fish were actually just everywhere! Sidescan and sonar, pods and pods of waiting walleyes just held to anything they wanted to.

The sun started to come out, Brenda stuck with vertical jigging from anywhere on the boat while I fan-casted all about, in no time the numbers of fish caught started climbing.

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All totaled Dory and Bambalam floated about for three hours plucking eyes from all around. I played again for a time with the LiveScope, able to waypoint structures more easily that walleye concentrations stacked against in the greatest of numbers. Generally the tool helped find then move to the fish more easily but, it did sacrifice actual rod in water time which would have simply added to our numbers caught. Between the boats we called it quits at a hundred walleye, Stevie and Ams keeping the legals we’d all require for a meal. Jigging and casting eyes like this is a lot of fun for me, for a short while. If they were 25 to 35 inch fish, that’d be different, I’d probably never leave.

But leave we did! And on route towards camp we stopped once for an hour in two new areas to try for lakers then pike. Both were quite barren of fish. Before long though, we found some specks in solid numbers. Stevie and Am kept on a troll, Bren and I did some casting. She will admit to me that casting specks is more enjoyable than trolling them but, she’d rather catch lakers than anything else. Lakers first, casting specks second, jigging eyes and finally dealing with pike, that’s about the order of things. Amelie is a total laker lover too, while Stevie and I tend to enjoy a good mix of it all… and so that’s why I guess the days tend to break down to a little bit of everything if conditions permit. Bren was on fire!

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Bren was still holding the hot stick for specks for sure. She picked up three, I got none. However, between all four of us we caught two keepers that we decided to clean and chill for the second of our two fish frys. One night a customary shorelunch fried speck dinner and the other some walleye fish tacos. We were stoked to get into some good eats, although this evening the shrimp ravioli was already on the menu.

After specking we did some more specking, going our separate ways awhile though. About a half hour or more passed and while Bren and I were working a shoreline Steve and Am go zipping by us. Totally unnoticed I wondered, WTF? Did they not see us? And apparently they didn’t, thinking we were on an opposite shore where their eyes stayed focused looking. Crazy how that happens though cause they were so close. And if we were in any color of a boat than black, we’d have not been missed. To their defense I did tell ‘em that we’d be on that opposite shore and, the forest fire haze had been getting pretty thick over the afternoon. But anyways, we rushed our lines into the boat and took off after ‘em but, they started to wander way off course and I wasn’t keeping up. Holy shit, the more they went the closer they got to an unmarked shoal I had a strong feeling Stevie knew nothing about. Sure enough, in the distance I see their boat come to an abrupt stop right at that spot. We stopped too, binoculars came out to look and see if they were OK… But I couldn’t tell. We waited, and then they finally powered up again but sped off traveling even further away. Finally, once we got our boat out into a vast open area, it was then the two turned around and set a course towards us. Meeting up Stevie surely had to tell me about looking all over for us and nearly smoking and unmarked shoal. I was just glad they were alright.

At camp the three enjoyed a game of cribbage after supper. The skies that evening were glowing a great purply-red through a smokey haze. Another amazing day of fishing with a bounty of walleye and some nice specks boated, El Patron out-fished me today and that was just fine by me. Less work if you don’t have to reel as many in… besides, I saved energy for cleaning those troots.

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CHILL THE F*CK RELAX!

This would be my 30th trip to Nipigon over the past 15 years and the fifth with “all” members of present company. Awake early that morning, quietly I stayed deep in the sleeping bag reflecting on some of that time.

I wasn’t sure at first about having Bren come along. For the most part I wanted that but a piece of me understood the trips here aren’t overly compromising, especially not back at that time anyways. Every trip until she came along was like… pretty intense fishing, sometimes intense drinking and, hard long days on the water come every waking minute. I have done numerous solo trips, seen a lot of the lake from the south to the north, east to the west, slept in the truck and tent here, there and everywhere and, pushed some fishing days in succession from 5am ti’ll 11pm, simply to get as much from and of the place that I can. It’s a greatest stage to push personal limits, explore and also test all skills from your angling and camping right down to your preparation and safety. Nipigon has taught me ALOT about myself and just what I am capable of and comfortable with. Even during the earliest visits, because of other outdoor experiences on James Bay, fly-in fishing or other road trips, my calculated prep work and excessive study was just something I did and still enjoy doing. It’s very necessary for these trips if you’re looking to get there and get as much out of your time as you can. For sure the fishing and catching, followed closely by the exploring, and finally fire, food and drink are what I enjoy most while on fishing trips. No issues going solo but, having the right people along can just make everything that much more enjoyable.

Thirty trips haven’t all been good though, there was one… It was the 2nd time to Nipigon that I went with relative strangers. Friends of friends but both I knew from the internet. Got on well with one fella fine but the other guy who had the boat… well, about three hours into our drive north I didn’t have a good feeling about him at all! And FFS for the rest of the week, no matter how I tried, that would only get worse. Just didn’t like the guy. Did my best though! Stayed kind enough that he can honestly thank me for his entire Nipigon introduction and for every fish he ever caught there then and after. He just wasn’t prepared and he’s not a good fisherman, nor outdoorsman, nor person at all really. But, he did say two things over the week that I carried on with cause I liked his comments enough. He’d say at one point, “a young horse runs fast but an old horse knows how to run.” First time ever hearing that one, and maybe that was one of our differences back then, I was and still wouldn’t mind being that young horse, to have that energy… yet he was just more stubborn, old and tired. The other thing he’d say, “a place for everything and everything in it’s place.” Yeah I get that too, and I like that one. On our trip he had brought waaaaaay too much shit to place anywhere, while on the other hand, I had packed simple and smart with a set meal plan, everything rationed just right and, all the right stuff to fish and camp with. He’d actually get pissed off by this, despite my telling him before the trip, don’t worry about me.

For the entire week I was middle rod on the troll but also the guide. If I chose to quarter cast on the troll sometimes, he’d whine and want me to stop. When catching the bigger fish he’d get upset, and he even threw a big tantrum after I did catch a giant. When explaining how to catch the fish, he’d already know it all but wouldn’t do it anyways. My maps and notes he asked for one evening and didn’t seem to want to give them back, just took ownership of my shit. If he was tired we stopped fishing. If he forgot his smokes back at camp after pounding miles out through big waves, well we were turning around to get his fucking smokes. I was dismissed when speaking about much but, had to hound this stubborn ass in order to fish the specks right or, even try fishing for pike at all. Left to his own, I’d swear he’d have spent the week flat-lining specks over a 100 fow and skipping over everything that looked remotely fishy. It’s the only trip taken I’d give back… and that says a lot too seeing as how I caught a 7+ pound speck which was my biggest at the time and today is mounted on the living room wall.

But those days seemed long past now, I’ve changed plenty and I’ve always been very cautious to never trip with the wrong people again… and therefor I haven’t. And nowadays, it’s still a rush for me to try and fish as hard like I did back then; and I still might on a solo tour or with the right fishing partner, but on the other hand, having Bren, Stevie and Amelie there we do fish aplenty but don’t ever need to be up before the sunrise and stay on the water until after the sun sets. What used to be an average of 12 to 14 hour days in the boat, has scaled back some to about 9 hours. That’s a good bit of fishing! Trips into the wilds with anyone, even loved ones is sometimes a test. The great outdoors can tire ya out in many ways too. Not every day is going to go 100% perfect. For me, I’ve learned that 90% is about as good as I can get it and there’s a few folks I know that can happen with, always. Stevie and Am, Bren too, and a small handful of others, sometimes we nail it even better, like say…. 95%! Haha!!

I flipped on the Buddy Heater and filled my piss jug, that was enough to get Bren stirring in her sleeping bag. As always, first to emerge from the tent I did greet the calm waters on the lake before putting the coffee on. It was going to be another beautiful day on great Lake Nipigon

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Bren and I would spend much of our hours trolling and casting different spots for specks. At times we’d argue over who got the better of the two candy portions we’d allow ourselves, but otherwise it was just a chillaxin’ day. One point our phones beeped way out in the middle of nowhere, we’d found a hotspot and temporarily had cell service. Bren was quick to get messages out to my father and our daughters back home, telling them all was going well. For lunch we parked behind an small, scenic island and ate beef veggie soup.

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Of the specks we caught none were giants. The one fish above had some kind of growth over it’s eye, the other one before that had quite a scar. It’s interesting how resilient and tough these trout can be with such injuries but, hold them just a fraction too long out of the water or release into hot surface temps, and they’re quite fragile. These fish may have been caught before, by anglers or eagles who knows… it’s good to see ’em still swimming strong.

That evening we all joined together for a pike fish but the pike weren’t having it. Lock-jawed as they remained on the surface under the strong sunlight just sunning themselves. Returning to camp Amelie and Bren had both showered before dinner while I prepared for the speckie fish fry. The coating is a secret recipe that when mixed just right, is nice and crispy with the faintest taste of a sour cream and onion chip. But yeah, there’s no sour cream and onion flavoring that goes into it, so that’s kinda cool and weird how that comes to be.

Stevie happily belted out some Backstreet Boys tunes and we talked about the Amazing Race and how girl driver’s kinda suck but that there’s no way my temper would go well with a stressful show on National T.V. programming. By 10pm we started a game of Rummy 375 that later went 500. All in all it went on entirely too long and the Gin and Scotch caught up with my mind, the wine and whiskeys injuring the others.
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CLOUD TO SUN TO SMOKE.

It was a midnight to 8am kinda sleep and I felt good. All in the kitchen for breakfast we were quite efficient with cooking, cleaning, all visiting the bush to make soil deposits, packing the lunches and getting to the boats. Took about an hour, that’s how good we get it down after a few days practice.

Zeus called from the heavens… the day was good to go!

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Morning and afternoon light winds, evening south 10 knots. 30% chance of rain.

A convoy we took off to explore some old waters new to this trip. In hindsight, the cloud cover should have been considered more. The skies had changed, the pike that had been slow under bright skies might be going better now, while the specks which had been chomping under the sun, they might not like the cold shorelines again..? It was a gamble but we took off for specks, to a mecca!

The weekend now there were a couple other boats around. Through the week and since leaving the launch I’d maybe seen five or six. Bren and I were casting a point when an 18-foot StarCraft came speeding over to us. They were camped out about twenty minutes away and touring aboot to find friends somewhere in their big cabin cruiser. While casting an offshore shoal another boat came out of a nearby bay and drove past… I knew then that there was no point fishing the spot they’d just been.

Bren did well again picking up two specks. Stevie and Amelie elsewhere but nearby, they picked at a few more too.

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Bren scarfed down some leftover fish and homefries she wrapped in tortillas. Admittedly they were pretty dry but tasty. Later I’d have some of that chili she just wouldn’t stomach. After Stevie and Am finished lunch too we met up again to consider new options. All together we motored off elsewhere to continue trying for more specks.

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Stevie would have the only luck. We expected better but the bite was just slow today. Throughout the early afternoon some good sun came out again while the lake laid flat. By evening a band of smoke stretched across the sky, all of it eerily coming our way. Still, it had all been an adventure so far with plenty cool scenery to take in on route.

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Early evening the air cleared up some once a little south wind pushed it away. A few days earlier I’d instinctually marked a spot while traveling back to camp. After telling Stevie about it they were game to go check it out with us. Lakers were up next!

Didn’t take but a minute for both boats to start marking. None of us had fished the area before, not at all, but honestly what drew me to it was simple. Bambalam had been passing over a huge, featureless flat of 30 to 50 feet of water when suddenly it just dropped to 110 then further to 150. Continuing across this area of the lake that trench wasn’t overly wide before popping back up sharply into shallower depths again. After marking the drop that time before, I checked with my maps and it was then how I imagined that trough likely carved it’s way along through the expanse there. Well, it would turn out that I was a bit wrong with hydrographic. The trough or hole actually began just south of where I’d dropped the waypoint. We were either starting at the south end of it or, it didn’t extend as a trough and instead somewhere north just shallowed out again, leaving us in a big hole. Whatever the depths were, I think the waypoint luckily landed on a bit of a point within the depths, creating a bit of a spot on a spot. And of course, that kind of laker hole existing so close to vast feeding flats east, south and west, it was ripe to hold fish. Over a couple hours the two boats caught six and missed a couple too. The fish were great and all, ten to seventeen pounders, but the find to me was the better prize.

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Trolling along I nearly choked and died on an inhaled moose pepperette. Bren just watched me suffer, nothing she could do I suppose. Reincarnated, before long we all agreed to give the pike another go but by this time the calm waters and sun out had those big toothies topside and smarter than us again. All four of us took a moment to cast together on a count of three, the person to catch any pike declared the winner… well, none of us caught nuthin’. But, but I did catch the only one of the evening a few casts later, declaring me the champion of our great derby thing.

Again both Amelie and Bren wanted to wash some of the days heat off ‘em themselves, and in the meantime Stevie took a frigid swim. Refueling the boat I was down eight of ten geri-cans by this time but with a full boat tank too.

Before the walleye fish tacos, margaritas, coolers, gin, wine, rye and scotch hours began, I escaped some skitters a moment at lakeside and looked to the darkening skies. Thought of my buddy Rob at Onaman’s just then, it’d been a couple years since last seeing him. He’s not one to reach out often, or get back to ya, or easily bump into. It looked like that 30% chance of rain may be coming away overnight.

The gang played Crib this evening while I took some notes. Overall it was a long day with a big tour that coughed up little for fish… except those lakers! That was a real nice find.
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BIG 102.

Stevie admitted early he was pretty tuckered out. The night drinks and late crib despite eight hours for sleep was just a little overpowering. We’d hatched a plan already to go for a morning walleye fish again, just to get some tugs and hugs bugs in our lives. Zeus too, well he’d asked the week prior for a payment in fish to be made to him for weather services rendered, so we checked in before our departure to see what his forecast was for this day.

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And that right there is why Zeus is a God!

Running to the walleye grounds we passed over more interesting water where I marked another waypoint for later. Looked laker-ish to me and if memory served right, some many moons ago a wise fella briefly mentioned something about a “hole” out in that direction. Could be worth a check on the way back..?

We all arrived to new walleye waters and motored about in search of fish. Steve and Amelie were both pretty quick on ‘em, in fact, we all were. But after a couple decents and the rest smaller, we knew the size and pace was not what we were after.

Keeping on the search we tried other places, about an hour or so later hitting the jackpot. The Agent and Am weren’t far behind. When they did arrive Bren and I had been catching eye after eye on every cast and jig for about twenty minutes or more. Insane walleye pace, the average fish were like, 18-20 inches with a number reaching 24 and a couple biggest at 25. For the next three hours it was hammer time for both boats. Bren and I would finally stop at 100 fish for ours and nearly the same over in Dory. Zeus would certainly get his wish, a fish fry some weekend soon.

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Chowder, Sweedish berries, fuzzy peaches, Jelly Bellies, Skittles and gummies into our tummies, after the walleye slay and lunch feast it was about 2pm when we told the others wewuz gonna head off for lakers. They decided to followz.

Out on the lake Bren finally sputtered out that she was tired of fishing. Wishes that trips were about 3 to 5 days and not 7 to 9, and she doesn’t want to come back if it’s gonna go this length again. Well… how do ya think that went over eh? I’ll tell ya, there was a very loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong afternoon pause before the next words were carefully spoken.

Have told her many a times that I’m not driving 15 to 18 hours one-way to set up camp, fish an evening, then a day or two, pack up and return home. Not with four days travel and the gas burned. Not after that effort. Not ever!! And not to mention, in the past me and we have had weather shit on us several days keeping any in camp and even laying us up back at Steve and Amelie’s. One June were were two days delayed so a snowstorm could pass. Planned 7, 8 or 9 day trips many times over have turned into 4 to 6 days of good fishing weather and the rest just drinking and sleeping… However, to compromise in our future if there would be days she’d rather not be in the boat and simply rest back at camp, she’s more than welcome to that… Now here’s where most reading would be like dood, that’s cold. But it’s not! Bren likes the idea. She’d appreciate that kind of time, we both know it. So, down the road if she’s burning out on the fish, she’s taking her time outs and there’s to be no pressure from me otherwise. As for her other request of shortening her fishing days, that’s something I already do. If near the camp somedays and she wants out, that’s not a problem. If I’m out there though ya know, sadly she’s stuck! Gas is rationed even less than our time granted being there.

Once we got that straight StevieZ and Am followed the morning track back to look for the deep water around where I’d dropped a waypoint. Bren and I would start south of there. Stevie said, lets just fish towards one another and see what comes of it. Well, although we were in distant site of each other for the next few hours, it would take that time before ever meeting up. He fell asleep. At their end though was fish! At our end, fish too! Hooks, high flyers, low liers and bait aboot. Amelie popped a PB giant while Stevie was napping, she said! And Bren despite our grump watched me reel in a decent one too. This area looked as good or better than the other spot we’d found the day before.

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Eventually we’d pull lines and start back towards camp. Once we got in closer range to Walkie-Talkie with Steve and Am they reported plenty life in the area so we dropped again to troll through what looked like the most intense grey-mine of grey trouts I’d seen all trip. All the fish down 50 to 70 or so over 100-120 fow, I set rigger low and flat-line high and put Bambalam in gear. A couple minutes later the flatline fired with a high flyer and it tore off, Bren had to start with her fish from about 300 feet back. Good! Gave plenty time to clear the rigger in anticipation of a good one. It stayed deep ti’ll the end

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There was no bother trying anywhere for pike that evening. All agreed to just having enough, we were off the water at 7pm, about an hour or so ahead of usual. Got the walleye cleaned up for Zeus first thing, Stevie and Am whipped up a great sausage and tater supper and finally the drinks flowed into another long game of Rummy.

Plenty laughs and even a cry, Amelie confessed her love for the new Avatar movie and Stevie and I our love for each other, and we learned alcohol is a stimulant too! Or is it a depressant? I know the answer but for some it seems to go one way, and others the other. Over some slurry mathematics we calculated that the walleye fishing earlier produced one fish every 1 ½ minutes over four hours… or something close to that? It was pretty good numbers anyways.

100 eyes, 2 lakers for a big 102 in our boat! Though Amelie makes Dory’s day with her big laker. Beautiful Nipigon!
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EARLY DEPARTURE, SEE WHAT HAPPENS, TODASO!!!

Steve called out from his tent next morning, “I have something show you,” he says. Keep it in your pants FFS… ya little Horndog, I thought. But it wasn’t that at all, it was this…

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Basically that proved two points. We’d be packing up for home a day early and, that all trips risk being cut short a day, two, three or even more depending on what Zeus is gonna give ya! The Gods and weather call the shots out there, especially under those biggest skies.

Stevie and Am’s eldest daughter’s graduation ceremony was next evening too so there was no risking anything, and judging by a “wind warning” it was a no brainer to travel out smooth and dry this day rather than roll dice with roller waves. After breakfast and take-down all packed up we set off.

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The trip back we spotted something unusual fall out of the sky. Speeding over to it we stopped just as it began to sink into the 350 foot dark depths below. In the clear water, sun glistening upon as it slipped down I saw the words, “Trudeau Enterprises,” on what appeared plain as day to be large drone with either a bazooka or flame thrower attached. It was quite an interesting site to see, and I know there’s probably a good few people that will totally believe us when we tell ’em too.

Back at the launch all readied for the road we took a few minutes for some lunch together and found a nice spot for a final picture. These people are a few of the loves of my life who actually like me back. They’re those I can’t imagine being without. Rain or shine with ’em, these trips are amazing and will always be ours to share.

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Thanks for joining us,

Bunk.
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