'Over the weekend myself and three other gentleman packed out gear and headed to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Our intentions? Find solitude and catch some friggin' fish.
Day 1)
Hit the road. 5 plus hours to Grand Marais before we headed down the Gunflint Trail to our destination, Voyageur Canoe Outfitters. We come here every year to find peace amongst the woods of the BWCA. Normally, we would canoe and portage to our chosen camp site, but this year was different. This year, no one wanted to work ;)
Upon arrival, as usual, we were greeted with excitement and the common question, "ready for your trip?" We all reply, "YES!" with the excitement children would have the day before Christmas. The Voyageur staff helped us pack the gear into two boats and hauled it across the river. Literally, 2 minute boat ride. Gear was pulled out and as I was throwing on the backpack prepared to hike it to our spot, out comes the four wheeler with trailer in tow. "Goodness are we spoiled this year" I said with a smile on my face.
The staff helped us get our gear to our location. Up the trail, amongst the woods would be our cabin for the next four days. Yes, a cabin, with beds, a stove, and a refrigerator. Did I mention the sink?? No soft soil to sleep on? Where are the logs surrounding the fire pit? You mean to tell me I won't be sleeping in my comfortable tent amongst the wolf spiders? AWWWW SHUCKS! Anyway, we unpacked the gear, broke out the beer, and I began whooping the company in some cribbage. (They won't tell you that, but it happened)
Day 2)
Of course the relaxation of this cabin is interrupted with mice. And I am the one who chose to sleep in the living/kitchen space, of course. Those damn things were crawling around the place like a friggin jungle gym. Sleep was not in the cards for me on this trip.
Morning breakfast and coffee quickly transitioned into morning fishing. The old man brought along all of his spinning rods and we hit the water. Mostly, bobber fishing, but I tried to throw out some plugs to spice it up a bit, no success. Even whipped out the fly rod. No success. The bobbers were heating up though as we got into some nice fish! Mostly smallmouth, but nice fish.
The day ended with us on the dock getting into some night fishing. Brought in a couple of walleyes, a smallmouth, and a random gigantic Crappie?? These would be the fish we feasted on the next day.
Day 3)
I heard the footsteps of the old man and my buddy Chad leaving to take their morning leak. The subsequent laughter and "Robbie must have killed one." made me chuckle. He probably saw the corpse out in the grass. I totally nabbed one of those little bastards. It was making so much noise! I couldn't take it anymore. "FEEL THE WRATH OF MY SHOE MOUSE!!" haha
Breakfast, coffee, the outhouse and it was back to fishing. We headed north through what seemed and impossible channel to navigate. The water looked like it dropped two feet from last year and the boulders were peaking out of the surface of the water. We made it, albeit with some serious swearing.
Today was the day my buddy Chad caught the largest damned smallmouth bass I have ever laid my eyes upon. It Had to have been 5Lbs. The thing was a friggin' hog! It is always interesting witnessing the panic that ensues in a boat when a big fish is on the line. People frolicking about, "GET THE NET! GET THE NET!"
"ROBBIE WHERE ARE THE FORCEPS?!", "YOU TELL ME OLD MAN!" I cut myself, there was swearing, beer was spilt (the worst thing ever). ANywho, the fish got into the boat and we were amazed at the size of this thing. Chad was a little child with that "LOOK AT THIS THING" smile on his face.
A quick , rocky boat ride back and we were soon, again, drinking bourbon, beer, and playing cribbage (well, at least I was. I don't know what those other jokers were doing). Of course, my sleep was shit.
Day 4)
Our last full day in BWCA. Breakfast, blah blah, coffee, blah blah, fishing. "AGAIN?!" I asked to Chad. "You're kidding, right?" Chad had that stupid smile on his face again with his rod damn near snapping in half. He landed another mutant smallmouth. This time, however, less panic. I take the credit for keeping his heart rate down. We were in a canoe, you know, the whole tipping thing.
Prior to that, I was slaying them. Probably about every 10 minutes I was plucking out small mouth. In total we landed around 15 fish in a span of 4 hours. The old man and Chads brother were in the boat trolling around some were, not really catching anything because they didn't have the luck that Chad was carrying with him that day. They radioed us to see if we wanted lunch and we coerced them into boating a few beers and some sandwiches out to us. Lunch in a canoe, on calm water, in the middle of BWCA is truly something special. With the added beer -- perfection.
Day 5)
I always dread waking up on the day we need to head out. The packing, the cleaning, the fact that we have to go back to the city. It all just sucks, but hey, trips like these are special because you don't get to see it everyday, right?
We were all a little groggy with the beer that was drank the night before, but we managed. Packed it all up and said goodbye to another successful BWCA trip. I do not believe I have ever seen more fish in the boat on any other trip, until this one.
Day 1)
Hit the road. 5 plus hours to Grand Marais before we headed down the Gunflint Trail to our destination, Voyageur Canoe Outfitters. We come here every year to find peace amongst the woods of the BWCA. Normally, we would canoe and portage to our chosen camp site, but this year was different. This year, no one wanted to work ;)
Upon arrival, as usual, we were greeted with excitement and the common question, "ready for your trip?" We all reply, "YES!" with the excitement children would have the day before Christmas. The Voyageur staff helped us pack the gear into two boats and hauled it across the river. Literally, 2 minute boat ride. Gear was pulled out and as I was throwing on the backpack prepared to hike it to our spot, out comes the four wheeler with trailer in tow. "Goodness are we spoiled this year" I said with a smile on my face.
The staff helped us get our gear to our location. Up the trail, amongst the woods would be our cabin for the next four days. Yes, a cabin, with beds, a stove, and a refrigerator. Did I mention the sink?? No soft soil to sleep on? Where are the logs surrounding the fire pit? You mean to tell me I won't be sleeping in my comfortable tent amongst the wolf spiders? AWWWW SHUCKS! Anyway, we unpacked the gear, broke out the beer, and I began whooping the company in some cribbage. (They won't tell you that, but it happened)
Day 2)
Of course the relaxation of this cabin is interrupted with mice. And I am the one who chose to sleep in the living/kitchen space, of course. Those damn things were crawling around the place like a friggin jungle gym. Sleep was not in the cards for me on this trip.
Morning breakfast and coffee quickly transitioned into morning fishing. The old man brought along all of his spinning rods and we hit the water. Mostly, bobber fishing, but I tried to throw out some plugs to spice it up a bit, no success. Even whipped out the fly rod. No success. The bobbers were heating up though as we got into some nice fish! Mostly smallmouth, but nice fish.
The day ended with us on the dock getting into some night fishing. Brought in a couple of walleyes, a smallmouth, and a random gigantic Crappie?? These would be the fish we feasted on the next day.
Day 3)
I heard the footsteps of the old man and my buddy Chad leaving to take their morning leak. The subsequent laughter and "Robbie must have killed one." made me chuckle. He probably saw the corpse out in the grass. I totally nabbed one of those little bastards. It was making so much noise! I couldn't take it anymore. "FEEL THE WRATH OF MY SHOE MOUSE!!" haha
Breakfast, coffee, the outhouse and it was back to fishing. We headed north through what seemed and impossible channel to navigate. The water looked like it dropped two feet from last year and the boulders were peaking out of the surface of the water. We made it, albeit with some serious swearing.
Today was the day my buddy Chad caught the largest damned smallmouth bass I have ever laid my eyes upon. It Had to have been 5Lbs. The thing was a friggin' hog! It is always interesting witnessing the panic that ensues in a boat when a big fish is on the line. People frolicking about, "GET THE NET! GET THE NET!"
"ROBBIE WHERE ARE THE FORCEPS?!", "YOU TELL ME OLD MAN!" I cut myself, there was swearing, beer was spilt (the worst thing ever). ANywho, the fish got into the boat and we were amazed at the size of this thing. Chad was a little child with that "LOOK AT THIS THING" smile on his face.
A quick , rocky boat ride back and we were soon, again, drinking bourbon, beer, and playing cribbage (well, at least I was. I don't know what those other jokers were doing). Of course, my sleep was shit.
Day 4)
Our last full day in BWCA. Breakfast, blah blah, coffee, blah blah, fishing. "AGAIN?!" I asked to Chad. "You're kidding, right?" Chad had that stupid smile on his face again with his rod damn near snapping in half. He landed another mutant smallmouth. This time, however, less panic. I take the credit for keeping his heart rate down. We were in a canoe, you know, the whole tipping thing.
Prior to that, I was slaying them. Probably about every 10 minutes I was plucking out small mouth. In total we landed around 15 fish in a span of 4 hours. The old man and Chads brother were in the boat trolling around some were, not really catching anything because they didn't have the luck that Chad was carrying with him that day. They radioed us to see if we wanted lunch and we coerced them into boating a few beers and some sandwiches out to us. Lunch in a canoe, on calm water, in the middle of BWCA is truly something special. With the added beer -- perfection.
Day 5)
I always dread waking up on the day we need to head out. The packing, the cleaning, the fact that we have to go back to the city. It all just sucks, but hey, trips like these are special because you don't get to see it everyday, right?
We were all a little groggy with the beer that was drank the night before, but we managed. Packed it all up and said goodbye to another successful BWCA trip. I do not believe I have ever seen more fish in the boat on any other trip, until this one.