I had an interesting little winter camping trip last weekend. It was a solo event, which can be really relaxing, but can also get a little long. I left Duluth Friday morning and headed up the Gunflint Trail. I left the main road and went to a little pull off spot I know about and set up the tent and wood stove. I then hopped back in the truck and drove to a nearby lake that has easy access and is stocked with lake trout. There was a cold east wind as I set up the portable fish house on a reef I had caught fish on a couple years ago, but the propane heater soon fired up and warmed the tent. No one else was fishing the lake as far as I could see. I caught two lakers, one was pretty small, but the other one was a decent fish. Not too bad for right next to the road. I headed back to camp at dusk and heated up some potato soup while listening to podcasts. I'm no tech head, but podcasts on the I-pod make solo trips much more fun for me. It was getting pretty cold when I went to turn in. I went outside to turn on the 10 pound propane tank, as I like to run my heater at night when it is below zero. The handle on the tank would not open. I twisted, banged, tried to warm it up in the tent all to no avail. Finally I said forget it, how cold could it get? It could get to minus 20 degrees, I found out the next morning. I awoke in the dark shivering, despite my two sleeping bags. Went to pee and was delighted to see a sliver of light to the east. Thank goodness, morning was arriving. I got pretty chilly overnight. When I got home later, I learned my sister was also up at 5:30am Saturday morning, singing Frosty the Snowman with one of her kids. I felt like Frosty the Snowman.
March is a different animal than January and February, however. By the time I drove to my lake of choice for the day, the sun was already warming the snowpack and the winds were calm. I loaded my fishing gear on the sled and took off across the lake, heading for the far side. The snow was deep and fluffy on the lake, but old snowmachine tracks made for easy walking. Only the last 100 yards of the 1.25 mile trek was on fresh snow. Under the snow I found slush and frozen slush. This made for tough hand drilling the holes. Once water from the slush gets into the hole you are drilling, it doubles the resistance. I didn't drill a lot of holes, but I was confident in my spot on a subtle point. It was a slow morning as the sun continued to warm. By 11am I was fishing outside in 20 warm, calm degrees. When I moved my tip up to a shallower hole (I started in 43 feet and moved to 25 feet), I immediately caught a nice lake trout, about 27 inches (about five pounds?), I gutted and gilled the fish and buried it under the snow. I caught another trout on the that tip up, a smaller fish that I released, in the same hole, so moved my jigging operation in shallow water and started working the depths with my tube jig. I caught two 25 inch lakers, both released. I also had one nice fish get off my hook just under the ice. Mid-afternoon, two Canadian Conservation Wardens zipped up to my on snowmachines (I was fishing in Canada, the lake is on the border). Under my conservation license, I can only keep one lake trout. When they saw I had already kept a fish, they went through all my gear and dug under any disturbed snow looking for another trout. Of course they didn't find any, but they did find my can of beer I had brought along. They informed me that I was lucky it was unopened, because, and I quote, "It is illegal to drink beer in Ontario." Now, I have spent a lot of time in Ontario, and based on my anecdotal research, beer is definitely not illegal in the province, and plenty of it is being drunk by its residents. I wanted to laugh, because how he said it was so funny, but I didn't laugh because I knew that isn't what he meant. The rule must be you can't drink beer on the ice or in public or something like that. I had heard some rumblings about that rule before, but thought that if I was in my fish house, I was legal. I'll have to look it up. The wardens took off and I was glad to see they ran their snowmachines past the next point down, which is where I wanted to fish the next day. Easy walking after they packed the path. I fished until dusk in rapidly dropping temperatures, then hoofed back to the truck. I decided to save my self from cooking and doing dishes and had a sandwich at the restaurant just past camp.
The night was again colder than forecast and I was awake shivering again at dawn on Sunday. Thermometer said -15. I got my gear loaded and headed back to the lake I fished the day before. It was a longer, but easy walk to the next point down. It looked like a good spot and I fished in 34 feet of water at the tip of the point. It was sunny and warmer than the day before, but the east wind was kicking in a little bit. Long story short, I fished the hell out multiple holes on the point and never even saw a fish on the graph until about 1pm. It watched that fish come in on the graph, chased my jig a short distance and then felt the strike. Missed him! The hook never found the jaw. I then watched my minnow, which had popped off the jig during the strike, slowly sink towards the bottom. I then, on the graph, watched the fish head downwards after the minnow and eat it. Damn! I quickly put another minnow on my jig and sent it back down and saw the fish come up for it again (hungry fish!). This time the hook set was good and I pulled the hungry trout through the hole, a decent laker. I let it go to catch again someday. It was only fish I saw all day. I packed a bit earlier and headed back to the truck. I had planned to fish near the vehicle until sundown, but I ended up running into a guy I knew and we ended up chatting and I watched him fish for awhile, and the sun was disappearing when I hit the road. I had another restaurant supper.
Monday morning was much warmer at 15 degrees above zero. I packed up up the gear, a process that is easier when I am solo because there is less to put in the truck and I can used the passenger seat to hold gear as well. I was home by 1pm and got the gear in the house, did some work things, and attended a City Council meeting that night. It was a good trip.
New Features of the Blog! I am adding two new elements in addition to the Nature Moment. The first is called Hubs' Flub. The content will be about the most significant screw up or equipment failure I had during my trip. The second new element will be the "Quote of the Trip." It will feature the best quote I heard on the trip.
Hubs' Flub: I already talked about the propane tank failure, but that wasn't really my fault. No, this trip's Hubs' Flub stands alone. On Sunday afternoon, as walked back to the truck, I was about 3/4 of the way back when I glanced back at my load on the sled behind me and noticed I was short one rod and reel. It must have worked itself loose and fallen off the sled. I unhooked the sled and walked back on my path to find it. I went about a 1/2 mile before I found it, so I added an extra mile to my 1.5 mile trek. I'll load better next time.
Nature Moment: When on the road near camp, I noticed moose tracks on the side of the road. This is not unusual. What was unusual was, when upon closer examination, there were wolf tracks as well. Moving up the road the snow on side of the road had a lot of disturbance...A moose/wolf fight had occurred. There was no blood and no hair, though. It appeared the battle had moved into the woods. The moose tracks were small...If it was a calf, I think we know how it ended. One less moose in an already shrinking population.
Quote of the Trip: This one is a slam dunk - "It is illegal to drink beer in Ontario" - Conservation Warden on Saturday afternoon.
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