The next couple days sort of blur together for me, no not because of any altered mental state, but just because they were both so similar: good friends, childish banter, outstanding weather, above average fishing, nightly fish fries and bonfires, and the ever-present beauty of the BWCA. So you'll excuse me if I meld two days into one.
I awoke at 3:45 am, stumbling out of my tent to empty my bladder, still feeling the effects of the previous day's bonfire revelry, when I was utterly flabbergasted by 1) the awesome star show all around me, and 2) the glowing morning twilight that was beginning to show to the east (or was it still the evening twilight to the west??). Wow, we are north!
Up for the usual breakfast, we then cleaned up and decided the canoe pairing for the day. Fishing all day in pairs leaves a lot of time to chat about life, loves, kids, hopes, dreams, etc., so we all needed to keep it fresh by mixing it up. For the next two days I was paired with Lazer Steve-O. With this pairing I knew two things; 1) I was in for a FULL day of fishing, and 2) I was likely going to witness the most prolific "fish whisperer" in action. Steve and I trolled the shore with lures just dragging in the water with no luck. Actually, Steve did the trolling/paddling, I just sat in the bowseat and hung my line out - quite relaxing, I must say. At one point we tried deeper water walleye fishing with leeches, but doggone it none of us would see a single walleye the entire trip, even on this purported walleye lake.
Eventually Steve and I spent the two days fishing around the same islands on the north part of the lake. There was one spot that was especially productive for Steve, and over the next two days he caught the most and largest northerns in this spot. When the wind would drift us past the "honey hole", Steve and I would paddle a wide loop and drift through the sweet spot again. And again. And again. And again. Did I mention that Steve likes to fish? And truthfully, if you continue to have success, why would you leave? Through trial and error, Steve found that spinner baits were attracting the northerns, and shared this tidbit with the Bandits over walkie-talkie so that they could give it a shot.
I was sometimes casting in to the shallow weeds along a different angle to avoid tangling with Steve, and one time something hit on my Heddon Torpedo (or was it my Shad Rap?) with a bit of force. As usual, I thought it was resistance from the weeds, assuming I had a snag. But as I reeled in I realized it was a fish, and nothing like a northern. As I brought it up and landed it with the net, it was a really nice sized bass. A real beauty. I was quite pleased, but what made the whole event memorable for me was how gosh darned delighted Steve was! I swear, that guy was just tickled pink at my catch, and how happy he was for me. I realized that nothing pleases an avid fisherman more than watching others land a nice fish! At one point Steve landed a nice-sized northern, but the celebration was nothing compared to his joy at me landing that bass.
Speaking of nice sized northerns, there was a "fish story" floating around the Bandits - you know, no proof of course, but a story of the "one that got away". Actually, Steve and I were in earshot of the event, so if it was a tall tale, then Jeff and Gary played it up to Oscar-like proportions. While Steve and I fished the honey hole, Jeff and Gary were off fishing near a large rock outcropping 100 yards away or so. At one point there was a rumble of activity in their canoe signifying "fish on", positioning the boat, grabbing for the net, etc. After a few seconds the rumble was punctuated by not one, not two, but three MIGHTY F-bombs that would have made Paul Bunyan proud. (Queue the movie scene where some horrid jungle sound sends the entire jungle canopy of birds flying into the sky.)
My first thought was, "shit, they had a big fish on, and Gary used the net that I had cut a hole in the previous day, and the fish got away." I was feeling pretty nervous for a bit, but then the 3 effenheimers were followed soon after by the throaty horse grunt ending on a falsetto cackle that typifies Gary's laugh. Whew - if he lost a big fish through the hole he wouldn't be laughing about it so soon. Steve got on the walkie-talkie and asked what all the hubbub was about (and to suggest two Our Fathers and three Hail Marys). The response: Jeff had a monster northern on the line, so big in fact that as Gary got underneath it with the good net (whew!) and lifted, the northern's head and tail would not fit in the net even though most of the body was bent and captured! Just as Gary lifted, the northern arched its body and flew straight up, at the same time cranking its head and spitting out Jeff's lure, landing with a smack in the water....and he was gone. Gone! GONE! (Queue the scene from "A Christmas Story" where Darrin McGavin finds his leg lamp broken and shattered on the living room floor.) Can I get a Jiggery Effin’ Pokery from the congregation!! The fishermen involved were visibly (and verbally) distraught.
The Bandits took pity on the poor souls for about a nano-second, after which came the inevitable reply from Joe on the walkie-talkie: "....at least I landed MINE....". Inevitable you say? Well, first look up the word schadenfreude, and you will get a glimpse into the comical exchanges between Joe and Gary that has driven their friendship since the day they met. Second, there is the classic backstory of Gary and Joe landing a fish. Haven't heard it? In 2003 Joe and Gary were fishing in the BWCA, when Gary had a nice fish on the line. Joe grabbed the net and "accidentally" hit the fish directly from the side, rather than getting the net under the fish to land it. Not just once either. In those ensuing 10 years, Joe and Gary have had a running diatribe over that incident. Did Joe do it on purpose? Was it just an honest miscalculation in attempting to land a slippery, flopping object into a little round hole? In any case, the fish was successfully landed all those years ago. The ONLY thing that would have made this 2013 fish-landing incident even better was if Joe had caught the fish instead of Jeff! Oh, that would have been a story for the ages, as neither of them would have let it go. As it was, Jeff was quite gracious, saying nothing bad about the incident. Probably, he was enjoying the Joe-Gary exchange more than the catch itself. I know I was!
Each day we took "the frig" and some food with us so we wouldn't have to return to camp for lunch. However, we did need to stretch our legs, and both days we used a flat stretch of rock to hop out and lunch out of the wind. The spot was on one of the islands just around the corner from the honey hole, making it ideal to pull in the lines, have a bite and a stretch, do some face-to-face banter (instead of the walkie-talkies - so impersonal!), and then get back at it!
After the days were through, it was back to camp for some free time, and eventually prep for our daily fish fry. On our last day of fishing, Lazer had been so proficient in "bringing home the bacon" that we had to let some northerns go.
After supper we did our best to fry the beer (easy) and our other stock of boozes (harder!). On our last night Jeff discovered the joys of Chuck's brandy, and continually refilled his cup from Chuck's limited supply. Chuck didn't seem to mind, likely because Jeff was entertaining him! At one point Jeff wanted to see what it was like to spray the bonfire with a mouthful of brandy, while Chuck internally cringed at the questionable use of his beloved brandy stash. Whoooosh! Again, Jeff! Whooosh! Yeehaw! Later that night Jeff decided that he wanted a bigger fire, so he placed a gigantic stump on the fire, which I estimate would have taken a good 36 hours to burn through! Needless to say that stump eventually ended up in the water to squelch the burning that had just barely begun to affect the stump. Oh how we doth underestimate the duration of the evening!
Eventually it was lights out, and we all retired for our last night on our campsite island. Tomorrow we would have to pack up and portage back out to civilization with no chance to linger or fish. And once back in town, we still would have to drive the 4 hours home, all this in one day. It was bound to be a long one.