Monday, September 17, 2018

Learning the Water

     This is not an easy trip to describe. More than anything disappointment ruled. Yeah, the fishing was okay, even better than good by Minnesota standards, but sure not what I'd been hoping for. It could've been we were simply on water that'd been worked a lot over the years. The lakes of the far north aren't fertile in the least, so just maybe forty or more years had put a strain on the water. Could also be Allan and I aren't the hot-shot fisherman we'd thought we were. Whatever the reason, tIt's a guessing game pure and simple. Try this, try that, figure out what works but even then you're not sure if you're missing the boat. Those things happen when you're on new water. 
     Could also be we were out for the wrong fish. A perfect trip for us would've been a handful of pike running forty inches or more and enough walleyes to say we caught a few. Said it and wrote it many times, the two of us are pike fishermen to the bone. As it was, we were on walleye water. Oh yeah, we caught our share as the old time meat hunters used to say. For sure the numbers added up but none were real wall hangers. Okay, that's enough for pissing and moaning. Time to get back to the details.

     Once Hugh flew off at 8:30 we stood at the pinnacle of our trip; we were loading our gear into the cabin with the Canadian boonies right outside the door and waiting for us to come out and play. Brought back memories of Larry Gogal roaring off from Dow Lake in northwest Manitoba and leaving us to the silence of the forest. Only this time we weren't going to paddle off. Nope, we had us a roof over our heads instead of a tent. I honestly can't say which was better. However, having a cabin sure made it feel like we were cheating. Not traveling by the seat of our pants might've been a sign that wisdom had finally entered my life though I doubted it. Wisdom is a fickled thing.
     By 10:00 we were offloaded and ready to hit the way. I'd like to say I was excited but the boat motor hooked to the back of our boat had me a little nervous. Nervous hell, I was borderline terrified. Could be the reason I'd been a canoe man had to do with paddles never failing to start. For a brief time we'd had a boat and motor at the cabin and it'd been a nightmare pain in the ass and black hole for money. Before leaving home I'd YouTubed a video (Outboards for Dummies) on how to operate a 9.9 Mercury outboard. Even wrote down the steps. Seemed easy enough but I had my doubts. It was a simple three step process: pump it, set it, and pull the cord. Oddly enough it worked like a charm and never once had a problem.
     According to the Lodge's website the best walleye fishing was right off of our dock at the mouth of an incoming stream. Only problem was the low water levels. Somehow I figured eighteen inches of water wouldn't cut it for a fish that liked sixty-five degree water. The shallow water also had me paying close attention to the rocks strewn about. The idea of whacking the motor's prop held no appeal. As it turned out, the owners had already taken bimbos like me into consideration and installed a heavy duty prop guard. Good move.

     

     

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