Fish Camp

All fish = catch and release – unless intended for food.

Wayne’s dear friend & long, long time buddy, Dr. Joe, lives in Minnesota. Minnesota is called the “Land of a Thousand Lakes”. And the place really does have a lot of lakes. Hence Minnesotans do more than a little bit of fishing. Dr. Joe and a group of his buddies did an annual fishing trip (they called it ‘fish camp’) in the Boundary Waters – the northern border and most rural part of
Minnesota.

Then one year they decided to go even further north, and I was invited along. They made it clear that I was the ‘rookie’ that year. I flew in late afternoon to International Falls, Minnesota (border of northern Minnesota & Canada). You may recall that in the wintertime on the television news & weather, International Falls is often noted for its particularly cold /low temperature.

Next morning they picked me up in a van, they already having driven hours up from Rochester, Minnesota. There were 8 of us. All of us and all of our stuff in one van. We crossed the border at International Falls, and drove north another 5 or so hours into Ontario.

Our destination was Red Lake, Ontario. We arrived late afternoon, and we managed to locate our outfitter’s camp. We completed the mandatory and necessary orientation, and we finalized the arrangements for our adventure. We did motel for the night.

Next morning we began the final leg of our trip. No car this time – an airplane. We packed and boarded a brand new, shiny, & confidence building airplane. Not true! It was a 1957 (really & truly, 1957!) yellow (not shiny), twin engine, de Havilland Otter. Truth be told, this plane is a workhorse, and its kind, not uncommonly used in such a scenario. They let me sit up front in the copilot’s seat – the ‘rookie’ plus, I get motion sickness.

Our outfitter was stern on weight limit – had to be. We were allowed 100 pounds per person – that is clothing, gear, food, everything. That’s total – 100 lbs./person. Not a lot for 5 days. Note the pic with all our stuff on the weight scale before departure. We were overweight. Big surprise. Executive decision – leave the bottled water & bring the beer. No joke. Really happened. We decided we would drink lake water. Giardiasis can be a problem in beaver infested waters. And no, we did not boil the lake water. And thankfully, no one got Giardia.

Interestingly, I have drunk unboiled (no such word) lake water in multiple wilderness lakes, on a number of different adventures, even those with lots of beaver, and I/we have never gotten ill. No Giardia. Granted, we always harvest the water away from shore and away from beaver dams and houses.

Beaver are huge. They are fastidious and indefatigable workers, and they are skilled structural engineers. They are beautiful. They bother no one. But near civilization, their structures have caused no small degree of havoc (regarding water direction and flow).

Great week. Very much an eclectic group of guys. Great guys. All gentlemen. And great life stories.

Fishing was great. We brought no entrée for dinner. Hence every night was fish. If we did not catch enough fish, then not enough dinner. Dinner fish was walleye. And we caught enough for dinner each night for 8 hungry, big guys. And it was great.

Again – all fish = catch and release – unless intended for food.

We all had different jobs. Two guys cleaned the fish. Another guy, Del, was the self-appointed executive chef. Boy, he did an outstanding job. During the year prior to ‘fish camp’, Del would meticulously plan the week’s entire menu - each meal, every meal, planned to the last ingredient and detail. Food amounts and volumes and weights (remember - airplane trip) were calculated and tabulated on his computer. He took considerable pride in the quality and variety of his meals. He did the food shopping before each fish camp, and he shopped before each and every previous ‘fish camp’. Again, 8 big, hungry guys for 5 days – a lot of food and a lot of planning. Chef Del fed us well. We ate like kings.

Del was also our bookkeeper, and all fees and costs were tabulated to the penny. We squared up at the end. It was a bargain. Great group of guys.

At orientation with the outfitter, we were warned of a potential issue with bears in this area. Where we were was wilderness. Our cabins (or camps) are not called cabins or camps. They are called ‘outposts’. Really. The name outpost gives some clue as to the degree of our wilderness setting. The forest is so thick, it is difficult to walk through. Honest to goodness, really true. I tried walking through it – tough to walk very far. Anyway, some of the camp rules are these. After cleaning fish, because you can’t walk through the forest, you get into a boat and drive the fish cleaning remains away from the outpost. This is done to keep the bears away from our cabin. See the pics of the eagles eating our fish remains. One pic shows at least 3 eagles eating fish remains.

Another camp rule is that accumulated grease waste also is to be boated away and then poured down into an old tree stump. This is all done to prevent drawing bears to camp.

Well, we were a good group of guys, and we knew how to follow rules. However, we learned after the first day that the previous group of fishermen did not follow the rules so well. Dr. Joe & I on first day of fishing were the first boat to return to camp. We were still a distance out, and I could see some guy walking in front of the camp. Made no sense – no one there. Holy cow – it was not a guy – it was a bear – a big one. We drove in anyway, and he skedaddled. Come to find out, the previous fishing group left grease material nearby behind the cabin.

It seems that where I go, bears have a inclination to find me, or I, them. Hmm.

And I was wrong. There was not a large bear. There were two large bears. You probably figured out there was no indoor plumbing. There were 2 outhouses side by side behind the cabin. It was a little walk through the trees to get to them. Short version. Two good sized bears intermittently appeared just behind the outhouses, which were located in the trees behind the cabin. This is where the previous group dumped their grease. So, you’re correct, this not a good situation. The bears appeared, again intermittently, day and/or night. It was very much a concern walking at night through the trees to use the john. We did OK. But it could have been a real problem.

Dr. Joe - neuroscientist, bon vivant, friend

We almost had one little mishap. Well, almost more than a little mishap. The fishing each day works like this. There were 8 guys and 4 boats. (Again – how did these boats get there?). Two guys per boat, the pairing changing every day or so for camaraderie reason. We left in the morning and returned late each afternoon for fish cleaning, beer, and fellowship. Each day we travelled miles from our camp. Each boat travelled in a different direction; hence, we rarely saw another during the day – the expanse of wilderness was just vast and breathtaking. There were no other humans. We had one ‘map’ per boat. I still have mine. I have no idea how it was made, but it was terrible – just lots of wiggly & squiggly lines connecting countless lakes, rivers, and streams. One boat member ran the engine, and the other was the navigator with the map, instructing the engine guy where to go.

It was the first day. Dr. Joe and I were together. We were having a great day. Through not a lot of fish that first day. Joe was driving, and I was navigating. It was late afternoon, and we finally agreed that we were hopelessly lost. One section of the map was barely distinguishable from another. It was getting dark. We were in trouble, and we both knew it. No cell phone towers and no sat phone. We were beginning to plan to spend the night. We had no gear for this. It would have been a tough night. I felt we ought to sleep on shore. For reason still not entirely clear to me, Joe felt we needed to sleep in the boat, but near shore. We were both more than a bit concerned. At the very last minute, as darkness was closing in, one of our other boats came upon us. They had been looking for us. Frankly, it was just dumb luck that they found us, the expanse was so great. But we were sure as heck appreciative.

After that first day we all got a little better at map reading. But the maps were terrible, and we all were concerned about getting lost.

Wendy and I can enjoy fine dining. And some/most/all of my finest meals have been with Wendy. Well, Wendy is more than a good egg, but sometimes she and I do not always agree on the definition of fine dining.

One of the finest dining experiences of my life occurred on this trip. I shall never forget it. It was our final day of fishing. Del and I were fishing together that particular day. It was about 12 noon, and we searched for a spot for lunch. You cannot ‘dock’ the boat where the dense forest
meets the shore. There is nowhere to sit or move around. You need some kind of beach or rock outcropping – not overly plentiful. Well, we found a nice spot, a rocky area which sloped upward. We tied the boat to a tree, and we made a fire on the rocks. I remember there was a bunch of old, dried moose droppings not too far away. (I will bet most of you have not seen old, dried moose droppings. And I suspect most of you would not choose to make camp right next to them. Oh well.)

the "gourmet meal"

Enjoy the pics.

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