This post is long overdue and work has sapped my creativity to a degree. I think I need to auto dictate to digital format while driving. Multi tasking might have possibilities. Something to consider.
I left the story hanging with us arriving at the outfitter’s landing after being lost for hours. Nighttime was coming and we had lots to do before reaching our remote cabin. We stepped out of the truck to a rather cluttered section of beach. Empty boats and gas cans. Miscellaneous equipment of all sorts. A busy yard as well.There was a noisy generator running on a small hill that appeared to power a small house with an open door. An old dog hobbled to the threshold and regarded us with a defensive demeanor. Three young girls came out as we approached. I inquired about their parents but they were out on the lake we were informed. We explained who we were and they looked us up in a hand written notebook. No computer although the house had a couple satellite dishes mounted on the roof. Cabin 5 they finally decided. We headed to the beach where we were given our rented boat to load with our gear. A teenage girl who said her name was Marly would bring a second boat with one passenger and the remaining gear. I asked an older girl who was helping to make sure we had gas after I checked the tank. We were a little throw off with just the girls in charge and no adults. It was decided that Zane and I would take one boat while Greg B. went in the other with Marly driving. She asked if I knew how to operate the outboard. Some men have no clue she mentioned with a hint of sarcasm. I said I felt pretty confident that I was up to the task.We shoved off in our heavily laden crafts. They seemed like decent boats with newer four stroke Yamaha engines. The prop on ours was a little chewed up though. I had taken a picture of it before leaving and had mentioned it to Marly. Always a good idea when renting a bush lake boat. Marly cautioned me to avoid some sunken logs near shore. They appeared to be the remains of a former dock system from years past. They were almost ghostly below the surface and a threat to our props. We reached our cruising speed and picked our way through a group of islands. I stayed close behind Greg and Marley. These bush lakes have few to no navigational markers. Just the occasional Clorox jug to mark a hidden shoal. We were making good time and were approaching some much larger sections of big water as the sun began to set. I pointed a rainbow out to Zane some distance away. It looked like rain had fallen off to the East recently. The waves began to pick up some but were nothing too worry about really. Zane and I were wearing our life vests. Greg and Marly were not. We were out in a section of big water when I noticed something to the north. An obvious downpour from a fast approaching storm. The waves suddenly began to hit our bow with greater size and intensity. They were close to four footers when the wind and rain caught us shortly after. The wind driven rain stung my face and Zane’s hat was blown away! We were soaked within seconds but that was the least of our concerns. Our heavily loaded boat was foundering and taking on water when I tried to alter our course towards the safety of shore. All I could do was keep the bow into the wind and feather the throttle to ease us through the swells. There came a moment in the height of the storm where there was danger in taking the swells head on however. The bow was nearly going under on the down slope between the waves. If we swamped we would be in trouble! I lost control of the bow a couple of times and we side slipped between the huge swells. I felt as if we were going to go over! Zane was laughing and shouting into the wind like some crazy amusement park rider on a roller coaster! No fear there. I hammered the throttle to get back on course. The 15 horsepower motor was no match against the fury of the storm. I changed my tactics slightly. I kept the bow at an angle which resulted in drenching amounts of water being flung over us and the gear. There was no time for second guesses or hesitation. It was do or die as they say. It was fast and furious. Time stood still as my eyes struggled to see in the stinging rain. We lost sight of Greg and Marly although we did see a boat racing past us in the opposite direction. The storm passed over us soon after and the sun returned to the western horizon.Zane and I were laughing like crazy after our scary ordeal. What a ride to start off our adventure! But I was getting concerned about Greg and Marly.The waves began to subside a little and we began searching for our second boat. I was getting nervous and they were no where to be seen. I felt a twinge of panic! No life vests on them and a very heavy boat. Not good considering our wild ride. I spotted a boat way behind us just floating. We headed towards it thinking it was someone else. What a relief when we realized it was them! They were stalled out and Marly couldn’t get the motor going. We decided to tow them to a distant cove to escape the rolling waves. The sun continued to set with beautiful colors and I was lost in the moment. A setting sun on a new and unknown Canadian lake surrounded by pristine forest. Rolling in the now smaller waves watching the storm pass over the dark green of the distant unbroken forest. A large bay held several islands and high rocky outcroppings that thrust up out of the lake. They glowed in the setting sun and words can not describe what I felt. This is living I yelled to Zane! The moment was almost surreal in its power. I felt alive and rejuvenated. Nothing new this buzz of adrenaline fueled by challenge. I will chase it forever.
In the cove I was able to get Marly’s motor started eventually and we headed out once again. I had no clue where we were going as our map had been destroyed by the downpour. It came out of my pocket in pieces. Darkness began to claim the lake and the post storm air was cool on my soaked clothing. Two boats sped up to us and approached Marly. Someone who knew her it appeared. We headed out again four boats strong but the single passenger boats moved along much faster then our loaded ones. We followed them and they led us to our cabin. Marly’s parents had been out fishing and had come to help us settle into camp. It was getting rather dark as we entered our home away from home.The owner introduced himself as Eric. He lit our gas lamps as we tossed our gear onto the screen porch. Eric was pretty laid back and seemed pretty nonchalant about the recent storm. He spoke with a Canadian accent but not French like I had expected. His wife Jamie gathered up some firewood from the beach and we started a fire in the stove to dry out our gear. Our hosts left shortly after saying that they would return in the morning. We surveyed our new surroundings and claimed our bunks. The cabin sleeps eight between two bedrooms so there was plenty of room. It was very typical for a remote bush camp. Propane lights,fridge,and cook stove. The added bonus of a bathroom with hot shower and flush toilet. Water pressure was supplied from tanks up on a ridge we discovered later. We unloaded our gear and cooled down our bait in the fridge. We had missed evening fish so had to settle for a simple dinner of hotdogs. The beer began to flow and we made plans for the morning. New water to learn and figure out. Greg played some music and little by little we transitioned into cabin life. Our cupboards were loaded with our provisions for the week.We fixed our bunks and got the morning coffee prepped. It was time to sleep. Little did we know we weren’t alone in the cabin.
Morning came quickly and we were anxious to get out fishing. We had started a friendly competition going. $5 per category per person. The categories were first walleye caught, most walleye for the week, biggest walleye for the week, and first pike caught. It was on! We slammed some coffee and readied our gear. Grabbed bait and waters. Lucky for us Greg had taken a picture of the map with its marked fishing spots. We headed to one closest to our cabin. We anchored in front of a rocky point and quickly dropped our lines. Zane and I used leeches on bait floats while Greg used a jug. It wasn’t long at all when I felt that first tugging walleye. I snapped my rod up and got the first walleye of the trip after Zane netted it!A keeper of 15 inches. The start of our first fish fry. I got several more after that and had a nice bunch of 7 on the stringer. Greg and Zane got a few before the bite quit. We hit a second spot nearby and Greg caught the first pike of the trip.The sun began to get hot and we were needing to clean fish. Get brunch too. We came in with a nice stringer of walleye for our evening fish fry. It was to become a routine. Try and secure a fish fry before breakfast. Other routines would soon follow.
We entered the cabin and soon realized that we had company. Mice! They had been chewing on a bread wrapper and getting into things.There was an old mouse trap by the stove and I got it set up with peanut butter. I cleaned fish while Zane and Greg made brunch. Our breakfasts consisted of bacon,toast, and eggs but not every morning. We sat around after breakfast and decided a nap was in order. A routine that also started. Later we tried out the shower and prepared to explore the lake. There was a lot of it out there.
It’s hit or miss on new water. We learned that a long time ago. We tried a few different spots as evening approached but nothing much happened. We did boat a few but felt we hadn’t found the perfect spots just yet. We weren’t disappointed by the end of our first day of fishing. We had plenty for dinner and tomorrow was another day. So back to the cabin for happy hour and preparing dinner. We would make our signature bush meal. Breaded and pan fried walleye fillets, fried potatoes, and beans. It was decided that I would fry the walleye. I got the grease perfect in an old cast iron frying pan before dropping the first round of fillets. Cast iron is my old friend of fish frying, My golden delights were served on paper plates but worthy of a fine restaurant. Fresh and hot I kept bringing them to the table. We ate walleye until we were stuffed! Wow was it ever good! I noticed our friend the mouse had been busy. The peanut butter was gone from the trap. We headed to bed after our ten o’clock dinner. The next routine that became a daily aspect of bush camp living. We joked back and forth between our bedrooms with the bathroom light glowing softly as a night light. The bush camp smelled of fried fish and the ever present smell of burning propane. I always kept our window open for ventilation. The darkness of the forest behind the cabin was never oppressive. Rather it was comforting. There was no sound but the occasional cry of a loon. We were happy and all was well. Slightly buzzed from alcohol and tired from our day. Far from civilization and the responsibilities of home. Bush living slows the mind and quiets the heart. We were making all kinds of new memories! MOONTABS! I will leave it here for now. There is much left to tell!