Showing posts with label bwca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bwca. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

SPRING WEEK IN QUETICO

Spring Trout Trip              

When four adult, slightly past middle age, guys, get together for a camping trip you know there will lots of jokes, jabs and jabbering.  The great thing about a boyz trip to the Quetico for lake trout is the chance to be little boys again or a primitive hunting party or some combination thereof.   At these ripe ages there less bragging and less muscle testing and a lot more dependence of each other and modesty, the result of what little wisdom that has been gained over so many years.  All for the better to have more fun,  take fewer portages and prepare a few good meals that men have garnered from years of watching their wives. 



This was a laid back, no worries about catching a lot of fish and happy to be out, kind of trip we did last week to the fabled North Bay of Basswood Lake in Quetico Park.   It was the week before fishing opener in Minnesota and two weeks before the same in Ontario.  Lake Trout is the only species that we could keep that were in season.   When we caught a smallmouth bass and a walleye, both handsome specimens, they had to go right back in the lake.   The lakers were playing hard to get on us.  We trolled a lot of water at different depths and saw some great scenery, absorbed too much solar radiation on the hands, ears and nose but rarely had to reel up lunker lakers.   Actually, there were no lunkers caught last week.  The bay was cold and calm most of the 5 days we were there but she was pretty stingy with the red fleshed trout. 



When a lake trout was landed it was meant for the pan and the meals were exceptional.   I made a first for me; trout tacos.   It was just snap decision while hiking the isles of Zup’s grocery in Ely the day before the trip to buy cole slaw mix and dressing and some real big soft taco shells.   I just breaded strips of trout cut off the filets and fast fried them laying them in the taco with some fried cubed potatoes and onion topped with juicy cole slaw.  It seemed to be a hit among the four men cooking around the campfire.    One of my chums for another trout dinner baked his filets over the fire in aluminum foil with butter and onions; another big success story for the guys.   We spent time contemplating how much water to use for oatmeal and whether or not the pork loin over the fire was cooked enough or if a little pink was now ok to serve America’s other white meat.   With the occasional sip of box wine from a plastic bag details of cooking were more easily worked out.  




Perhaps the most solemn moment of the trip was the scattering of the ashes of one of our fathers who passed away recently.  Jack was a friend to all, a great hockey coach and a bit of an old curmudgeon but renowned for his unique expressions and liberal use of language that would be bleeped out on TV.   Not that Jack was on TV but he a star to those of us who knew him.  If you knew Jack you always smiled when his name was mentioned.  He did some fishing up north and he loved to visit Ely with his wife Ann to see what their son was doing now to live the life of a modern entrepreneur woodsman.  Like father, like son, Steve managed to scatter a few choice words in every conversation we had last week.  It’s a loose group when the men that are still boys at heart, make a trip to the woods to catch lake trout in spring.   Enjoy the photos and come up soon. 


Wednesday, September 30, 2015

A Clients Perspective: First Boundary Waters Trip

Hi Drew and Adam!

I want to thank you and your entire team for helping make our trip to the Boundary Waters an awesome and relaxing adventure. I can't speak highly enough about how accommodating and helpful you guys were. We planned our trip from Nashville, and you made sure we had everything in order, including rentals, shuttles, switching my permit pick-up spot, and a handful of other things I just wouldn't have thought about. You guys even had sweet and salty snacks for us after we pulled out of Snowbank (seriously a great touch). I appreciate it very much!

This was my first trip into the BWCA, and honestly, I had no idea what to expect. To put it mildly, I was absolutely blown away by one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. We ended up camping on Disappointment, Ima, and Boot Lakes over a 7 day period. For future reference, the coolest campsite in the world is on an island of Ima Lake. There's a perfect hammock spot that overlooks a cliff that doubles as a jumping rock for swimming, and the site has the best of view of the sunset and stars at night! I've included a few pictures that don't begin to do it justice!

Thanks again for everything! If we return to Ely, you will certainly be our outfitter.

Sincerely,  Jessica Shutt











Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Yoke Was on Us


The Yoke Was on Us


The year was 1975.  So, not that long ago.  It was only the best of times. 

We started our job at EPA’s Shagawa Lake Project on Memorial Day Weekend.   It was our first experience taking on a project of our own and being responsible.   Nancy was the technical partner; trained by the master of zooplankton feeding rates, Dr. Jim Haney.   I was supposed to be the theoretician; trying to make some sense of the data and design a good study.   As lowly contractors we got some meager lab space tightly guarded over by our new friends, the full time employees.   The study progressed well with only a couple minor mishaps involving a little radioactive P32 finding a hole in my rubber glove.  I slept a few nights with my arm over the side of the bed.  Can’t be too careful with one’s gametes.  We found Ely night life enticing, spending more than one evening on crawls up Sheridan Street lavishing in our new found freedom.  Hoping our boss doesn’t read this but we missed a couple of sample times in our diel study on the night of July 4th after a visit to the then famous Legion Club later to be known as the Red Garter.  

So Ely was the oasis at the end of a long road from New Hampshire for me and my research partner.   We gained a best friend who worked at Canadian Waters that summer.  She was a blond Swede from St. Paul named Margot (but pronounced Margit) with so much Minnesotan accent we thought she was a recent immigrant.  After a week or two of hearing all the stories about the wilderness out our back door ( we lived in the basement of Shagawa Inn) we set off with Margot’s advice to explore the wilderness.  She was flabbergasted at our suggestion that we might camp on one of the wild islands of Shagawa.  After all, we had spent many hours in white lab coats in our Boston Whaler sampling the waters of Shag and kinda liked it.   After proper admonition, we found the portage to Hegman and off we went on our first wilderness trip.


My dad was a boat dealer in Massachusetts so when he heard that I was spending  a summer in Ely, Minnesota he told me about the ads he’d seen in Outdoor Life for years about the Canoe Country.   After loading up a ton of science gear in my Volvo I strapped on a Grumman to the roof and took off for the cross Canada highway to Grand Portage and the wilds of Minnesota.  The canoe turned out to be essential that summer as slowly the summer progressed and paddling wild lakes became almost as important as catching wild Daphnia and rotifers.   It was that first outing though that Nancy and I made a major discovery.   The trail to Hegman is wide and sloping and outfitted with steps for the uninitiated.   We hoisted the canoe on our shoulders, one in the front and one in the rear upside down and off we went.  On the somewhat jerky hike to the lake we met a fellow traveler climbing back up the parking lot carrying his canoe by himself from the middle of the canoe.  What was that?  A few more canoes at the put in had something like pads hanging off the center thwart.  That’s how Minnesotans carry a canoe?   Unheard of in New England where portages are just for the wimps who don’t run the white water.   It looked intriguing however and I called my dad as soon as we got back to the lab that Sunday.  As a long time Grumman dealer (since 1955) he said it was what is called a yoke and it just tightens down to the center thwart.  Dad had one on the shelves in Athol, Mass collecting dust for the past 20 years.   What a revelation!  In a week we had a yoke of our own and ever since the yoke has been on us.

Steve

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Sunrise in Ely

What follows is a pictorial essay of a very beautiful morning.  The light was fantastic -- capturing the first colors of the day as dawn crept out of darkness.  A rainbow graced the sky with the promise of a new day with new challenges and new adventures.  A glorious golden hue descended on Tuesday.  At 5:22 a.m. Steve Piragis began taking these shots.  The only thing more spectacular would be viewing this light from the shore of a favorite campsite just as your slip bobber went under...

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