Moosebunk

Left off somewhere around here... about the time I finished a stand-off with a bull moose, a double fun catch of sturgeon, a final camp on the North French, and a last catch searun gem sealing my northern fishing life with a chipped tooth... So it has been a whole summer gone by and it's almost November now. Pretty much everyday since June 14th I've thought about and missed many of my old ways... but a whole big whirlwind, life altering, exhausting, crazy and important summer has past by in the meantime, and I have to admit that a reinvention of family and self has always been in the cards for us... the time for one chapter needed to be closed, as the other just simply arrived as it had always meant too. First thing first, I left to find a new home mid June. The mission was to narrow a number of choices down to a few, so that when Bren came to the valley for the final approval, she would have time to make an easier choice. It was stressful to say the least, and all the homes I first viewed were in one way or another just not quite the perfect fit with all pieces needing to be considered. In the final day though, a new house came up on the market and it was in the perfect place. Bren came down to see it with me, the kids and my parents... and we all loved it right away. A new 3-year old countryside home, school bus pick-up and mail to the end of the driveway, 3.5 acres of manicured lawn to cut, great road access, and an immaculately fully finished interior. Bren found full-time monday to friday work 12 minutes down the road too. It was first week of July and I made sure the deal was sealed, it would be ours second week of August. So far, everything according to plan. While this was all going on my only stress relief came from my wonderful parents, good buddies along the way, and any off chances I had to escape in the float tube. Thanks to Wayne and Leah, Mike along with Bill and Frank, RJ, my girls, and all the yahoos who attended and fished BassStock with me. Some solid fun was had on new and old waters from Ottawa valley to Temagami to Larder Lake and the Abitibi. Put a tonne of klicks on the 99 Chev, so many I finally turned over 100,000. Poor old beast was so used to ice roads and potholes that once out on the highways its rear diff beatings finally caught up with it. Lots of engine left I couldn't get rid of her and so had it replaced. The final straw was Iroquios Falls to Little Abitibi... the 50k of washboard at highspeed didn't help matters... I doh-dink-doh danyway! Mid July we packed up house and home in Moose Factory. The process is something I would rather never repeat. Bren and I having lived in hospital housing since 2000 had no furniture of our own, so I guess that was a good thing. Belongings having to go from house to truck onto barge then offload onto rail freight car then offload again into trucks... well, that was the process. A home gym, my boat, trailer and skidoo were the only real big things to move, the rest was boxes of everything else. Late June we were at my folks place while the goods were stored in an Uncle's old cattle barn. For the two weeks before moving in Bren and I shopped tediously almost every day in order to furnish our new home. What I dreamed for many years of being fun, was actually quite not. Finally, the day arrived and we turned the key in our door. Over the next two weeks Bren, myself and my parents worked daily to get the house how we wanted it. Nine different deliveries needed to be received and that in of itself was the greatest nightmare of the summer. Leon's, Future Shop and The Brick were the worst for screw ups, while Lazy-Boy, Bedz-z-z and some smaller retailers seemed to have their act together. Deliveries, then re-deliveries, and poor service representatives were some of the headaches, but the biggest loser of all was Leon's when for no good reason other than not wanting too, they wouldn't accept Bren's Status. Turned out to be their big loss, but what would they care... they're a huge chain that acts like a huge chain. Actually, The Brick's delivery guys put a hole in our basement roof... that left a little impression with me as well. By the time the two weeks ended, God bless my loving wife she let me go fishing... and not just fishing, but fishing for a week in speckle land. The initial Nipigon report goes down like this... Day 1. MARLON JENKINS AND THE INITIATION. By mid August I was feeling pretty burnt out. Totally stoked... but burnt. When she said she had no quams about me headin' out with a couple ole local yokels to the Nip for some R&R, it was then this fishing vacation began. The overnight 17 to 11 with Big-O (Phil) and WIG (Rob) started with a 19:00 kiss goodbye to the wifey and kids, a large Renfrew MacDonalds vanilla shake, a couple Deep River sizzle-fried trailer light fuses and a late night OPP ride program in Rutherglen. The two in the front had been ramblin' non-stop for a few hours about ancient time commercials, shows and comics, until eventually stumping themselves on an answer much later to be revealed with a belly-laugh at the cash of a greasy spoon in Longlac. Marlon Jenkins. The question might have been "who was the host of some Wild Outdoor show." I wouldn't even begin to try to be a part of their redeye express fun so I just tossed and turned upright in the backseat to the tunes of one John Fogerty and a Lady Gaga. P-P-P-Poker Face - P-P-Poker Face. Hitting North Bay I'm sure there had been a snore or two from my end, but wide-eyed and bushy tailed we all took a midnight rummage through the 50% off trailer "SALL" (not "SALE") at the top of the hill PetroCan. Before long we were off and blazing gas'd up through to Liskeard, Earlton (which changed it's name to something else) Cockring, Moonbeam, Sunrise Kap, Hearst2BU and the Great Beyond. By the time we rounded Geraldton past the burns, WIG had been going on about an hours sleep, trucker and 5-XL Timmies Big-O Phil a half hour, and me... maybe a combo of four winks or so. Skirting into the Nip the landscape sure turned awakening pretty with its views along the way, yet CHUK from CHUK'S Bait Shop in Red Rock wasn't one of them glorious sights. Happy to be there though and with the drive nearly over, I gladly tipped him $2 extra for his worms; cause he is afterall one of my people, and we three made off hooked and baited for the big beauty waters and camp. It was late afternoon and we were sluggin' Coronas beside three erect tents and a functional camp kitchen. Time to fish we figured. So, into the warm tea with milk stained waters we set out in Big-O's Legend and began our troll. WIG had just gotten comfortable within his first two minutes when... DOINK!!! A quatre pounde truite avec de speckle mange'd onto le lure and de fight of dis ones was... how do you say... epic. Upon boating the trout, WIG let out an earthshaking shout, of which Tears For Fears would quite likely sing about. A great start to our week. A fat fish which he admitted instantly made his trip. Couldn't have been scripted any better. A campfire celebration and preparation for a cold night ahead, one angler for the day was as happy as a WIG in crap. After lights out and from within our tents, WIG and I heard a pot fall outside from off the tree shortly after I had heard the sounds of something walk by my door. This was followed by the cocking of WIG's rifle, to which no noise was made from then on. Day 2. THE DIRT. An 07:30 wake-up we were an hour and forty-five getting the long-haul-road-lagged lead from our arses before starting into the fishing upon the glorious day. The waters lay calm in wait but man were they muck. I pointed the boys as far out into the known as I guessed might escape us the turbid murk and away we sped. Seconds on plane I hear a clanking sound off the transom and we slow down to investigate. Upon inspection Big-O's transducer is flailing about behind the boat. Despite best efforts to repair, the rest of the week we would be without a sonar and therefor not fishing lakers and knowing true depths and temps. We were going “Old School.” A mere kerfiffle of a south breeze met us out on the big lake where two waters of brown and blue drew a line in the H2O. We chose the blue, and after I lost three other fish before the early afternoon, a first friendly Sal-something Fontinalis landed in my fingers. Other fish of a more toothy kind were available in the area as well. Because of the good weather we took advantage to try some new far off areas. They didn't produce well, yet I believe WIG got one speck at some point; although I can't seem to find photo evidence. The winds of the day consistently built up and pushed us back towards camp. The evening fish later on, was a blank. The clouds rolled in, WIG cooked up venison sausages and pork chops, I chopped wood, while Phil took pictures and gave me pointers to better my axe wielding skills. Later in the tent the winds howled and the trees creaked all around, but come 11:40 my light turned out and exhausted I retired for the night. Day 3. THE SPECKLED CALM, THE SPECKLED STORM. We three doods were quick on the hop come morning of day three. 07:00 the lake was calm and the bowels mobile so toute suite we hopped aboard the Legend and I aimed our happy crew to a new shoreline. A short time in the area and Phil gets a hit. He had forgot his lighter back at camp but this first ever speckled trout in the man's entire life slowed his turnaround smoke rescue. It was the smallest Nipigon speck I had ever seen, but it was a young gem nonetheless. Ju Jubes, orange spots and blue halos, a nearly complete bowl of Lucky Charms became Phil's temporary breakfast addiction, and so for the remainder of the morning we were all content to just FISH ON!!! And even I joined in on some of that fun. The morning flizew by and anyone who knows my stomach realizes how often it needs the feed. Back to the camp area we went early for a quick lunch and Phil's light, but on the way we happened upon a brief speckie feeding frenzy. In 10 minutes the three of us all caught trout over 22 inches. It started with Big-O on the troll. Then the man commonly referred to as WIG instantly played one to the net himself. And lastly, while they were tied up playing around with WIG's fish... I snuck to the bow and cast out to one of my own. HELLOOOOH!!! Afternoon rolled in and we were fed and ready. A little blurp with the windsock and prop at onset, that fixed we all decided we'd head out to the deep for a ride. In short order the dead calm warmth began to blow a cool and unsettling little breeze upon our arrival near big water, but that didn't dry Phil's eagle eye from spotting a lone offshore speck jump in the distance. Boating over while letting out a little extra line on the way, smooth as a cucumber he peeled and pickled it. And giving it back to the Nipigon, he relished in the moment. Strangely the afternoon ended a little awkward. Phil's gas gauge was reading low and we couldn't really play the odds that he was right about it always misreading a little. The winds were becoming mischievous at times and again my stomach was growling. When we got back to camp I wanted to eat but wash as well. Rob said; and I'll try and quote him here... "you wash your balls and I'll mind your chili," ummmmm soooo, I went and washed my... yeah... After Phil had a nap, Rob had some brews and I ate and bathed, the three of us went back out into the typhoon. Didn't take long before Phil was tired of trying to maintain boat control with a crosswind hammering us into shore. Some places weren't quite as bad as others but those spaces were tight. In hindsight we should have spent those tough hours anchored and casting over the calmer areas. Right over one such spot I cast off the stern to prepare for the troll and was immediately bumped hard by a fish. I had just switched to the light rod with some skinny braid and really enjoyed the fight... but more so the initial hit. This fish was a beauty and caught on one of my home made lures. The photo and release, moments later a few light rain drops began to fall so we called it quits. The weather had notable scattered showers all around us but we had luckily dodged most. Back on shore around 8:00pm the boys were hungry for supper and me my second supper. I was feeling picture happy too. No sooner did we all get our last burger bites down when the wind died and the skies came crashing thunder and lightning and we were all forced to dive into the tents. The next two hours it poured outside. Inside, I was cozy and dry with the tunes going and one of Rob's kids confiscated Playboys to keep me entertained. It was a great day fishing but man... the freakin' weather was all over place. Day 4. THE LOVE. "Gentleman Anglers were found on the Nipigon River as early as 1865 and from then through the American Civil War, WWI, WWII and to today, anglers continue to flock to it's shores. It was 1869 that E.F. Witcher recorded in diary the unofficial reporting of a 19 pound speckled trout caught in Nipigon Bay. Nearly 20 years later in 1887, Field and Stream named the Nipigon River the finest trout fishing in the world." I picked up this little five dollar book from the FoodMart in Nipigon and found it was full of interesting history on Red Rock and the Nipigon region. I had thought Nipigon meant "lake that never sleeps," but in actuality the word derived from Cree origins most likely means "deep, clear water lake." Regardless, the Nipigon is surely a place of many deep meanings to those whom visit. To me, it's mostly about the speckled trout. Woke on day four to a beached boat. Big winds had run it ashore but the three of us were able to muscle it back afloat. Phil let us know then that his bilge wasn't working so I was kinda thankful it hadn't taken on any water overnight. For the morning we got off the lake and went to town for gas and supplies. The Legend had burned 80 liters of fuel during the three previous days and there was still another 50 in the tank, but with the gauge not working and reading low, we didn't know that until reaching the pump. At the local CTC I met up with one helpful FBI who looked over a map of mine and pinpointed an area to launch for a new fishing adventure BIG, WIG and I thought we might just embark upon. After a bit of drive, a good jaunt of a walk and an unsuccessful attempt to see the boat float from the trailer bunks at a very shallow launch, we were left to pack up and head back to camp. The lake was kicking big-time when we returned yet although it was gusty and choppy in the main basins, we bobbed around relatively soft in the best protected areas of the lake we had to fish. Phil got us started around 2:30pm with a few smaller specimens. He had a hot stick catching three back to back speckles, while I believe somewhere in the mix it was WIG who caught a beautiful sucker. While on a short trolling pass around 3:30pm, the boat had drifted out a little wide off of a point when my lure got absolutely obliterated by a fish I understood right away to be substantial. The reel peeled as the initial run was straight back, and at first I guessed that I might have a pike. Once gaining some line and spotting the fish near surface towards the shore, I yelled out to the fellas that it was instead a laker... but... then I saw the fish again and told them it's a "tagged" laker. The big fishes tag beside its dorsal fin was momentarily quite visible. I probably began to get a little panicky by this point, especially seeing as how the fish really muscled out a few good rips to test my gears. Then, finally when it came boat-side the true identity of the beast was revealed........ It was the largest speckle I had ever, ever, ever, ever fiznackin' seen alive. And it was alive right there in the water on the end of my line. Might have been WIG or Big-O who scooped it up, might have been me. Didn't matter a lick really, cause it was seconds later that it was in my hands. This was the speckle I have always been fishing for. The camera rolled on for a good time and the fish was carefully measured and weighed. The tag number 04322 was also seared into my brain. Back the fish went to the water to revive, and while Phil snapped some release shots I began to struggle. I could not seem to let this one go. I must have held it there for a good minute or more, all the while asking the guys for advice and trying to talk myself into one decision or another. And yet even though part of me wanted to, I could not open my hands and let go of this speckle. It was "the" fish for me. It ended up becoming the one I will be keeping forever. Length - 26 inches. Girth - 14 3/4 inches. Weight - 7.1 pounds. At home, later on in September I received a return call from the MNR about my speckle... First caught and tagged October 25th, 2007 in pretty much the same location I caught it. Two tags were put in the fish at that earlier time, numbers 04321 and 04322. Somewhere along the way the fish did lose the other tag. At the time of its first capture its fin was clipped and the fish was proven female and 3 years old and its measurements were 20.9 inches long with a girth of 11.5 inches. He was impressed with its growth to today at 26 X 14.75 inches and 5 years of age. Along with the mount I'll have the lure that caught it, the tag will be put back into the fish... and I can say... She Swam 2004 to 2009 along Nipigon's Rocky Shorelines. I think that's pretty cool, it's a kept trophy though, so others may have their own feelings...

Always enjoy the reports Snag. Terribly slow for me to get all the pics up with my new southern net service, but... did catch 'em all. Great speck and eye and some classic pike fishing as always.

Ya ended all the crap just right bud. Still hope to see ya when you're down this way.

GCD's jigs??? You mean to tell me he makes lures others catch fish on, yet he still can't catch any fish himself??? lol. Can't see the pics here at work Roy... so really, I can't believe a word you said until the proof is in front of my eyes. Hehehe.

Thanks Rich. Seems a rare treat to get a report from ya. Enjoyed this read. Too bad about the muskie fishin' but I think you'll enjoy the biggun ya get next year even more now.

Get those exotics back in the aquarium. Cool report.

Doood!! You get only the coolest guests visit. Thanks again. Nice to have ya home.

Ya dun grate budy! Super fish.

Couldn't imagine living 70 years to finally experience real northern fishing. Just happy that ya took Pops along for him to enjoy and get a super pike and eye spoiling.

I'm a predator. And, I like skulls. I think I've had a falcon, moose and dodo bird skull up here before. Some sites get fish, OFC get's carnage. lol.

Sounds good to me Louis. Moosebunk drinks Moosehead. lol.

We'll talk about big dreams while you help me catch my first ever rainbow. Seriously... I've cleared that with the wife already. lol.

To have heaven in the backyard eh bud??? Sometimes it just seems so far away to ya though. You gotta change that if ya can. Nice to see you get out. I wished you would have joined us for a night or two... I kept telling the boys to expect either you or BillM to just show up. We had a good week but I did notice sizes and numbers were down a little though. As busy as last year for traffic but with more consistency through the week and seemingly less on the weekend. Still, I got a new PB. I'll report soon enough I think.

Well, well, well... Heard all the buzz but it's nice to finally see the story unfold before my eyes. Problem with my new crappy southern internet service is that unfolding (download) took freakin' eons. I especially like the part where you mentioned how rich the wildlife is there. It's not just the wildlife Mike, but as well the rich feelings the Attawapiskat gives those who visit. Thinking back to when living there I can't help but agree with that sentiment. You spoke of that erie experience as well... one of mine was while hiking in the bush up there too. With living there, I just wish the fishing was as good for me at the Bay end as I know it can be at the other. Great place. As far as the pike and walleye combo fishing goes I'd take it over any other... being a river rat at heart too. Anyways, you and the group did superbly, as I guessed you would. Jay loves the toothies more than anything, it's easy to tell. And the old guy Gerd, that's a great experience for a son to take his pops on. The landscape is no different there than the stretches which go on for like 450 miles downstream. If you can believe it, those caribou once showed up in the peoples of Peawanucks backyards by the 100's. This after they were pushed off their migratory routes because of the Diamond Mine exploration. The pic you got was awesome, they are a "rare" treat to see. I imagine I'll be heading back there myself in the not so distant future. Life may allow some contract work back in the village. June would have likely worked out too but, you were a little impatient with that weren't ya..?... You must have measured a few? Any ideas of your longest length on a fish there? I found TONNES were mid to high 30's and a good many fish also hit 40 to 43. The eyes were clone 5lb'ers plus... and amazingly scrappy at that. The river keeps all fish good and fit and strong. Awesome when walleyes pound big pike baits. Pleasure to read. If your buddy can keep his costs down, his camp clean, his boat and motors tuned, undercut Hearst, (because Nakina is a distance too) and instill camp rules to ensure trophy fish are protected, he should be in high demand. I know this has peaked my interest... but then again, the Attawapiskat is in me so it comes pretty easy. Thanks for the report dood. We'll talk soon. I gotta head south this fall sometime as well.

WOAH!!!! Tank PB. Congrats Mike.

Very cool Al. Fresh off our trip I can say the fun of Nipigon never grows old. The specks are awesome through and through. Report to come.

I'd still prefer that the next time you're in the area killing time that you and Leah do it at our place.

Don't worry you two. Once I report it'll feel like you were there too. You guys were both up to your eyeballs with other things this summer. I knew that.

Can't believe this post got 4 replies. What is wrong with these people??? Anyways Chris. Thanks for posting. Nice to see you, Leslie and the girls sharing the summer holidays like this.

WOW!!! So that was you talking with my buddy Big-O. I was standing right there on the shore beside him while you and him were yelling back and forth. Too bad I didn't recognize you, nor you me... I guess. Great trip for ya. You guys worked the water well and didn't mind catching fish right in front of us.

Very very cool HD. And big congrats to ya. Soon it'll be your turn to entertain the in-laws on this side. They should enjoy the fishing more.

Great vacation dood. Some nice fish and a fun report.

Holy Crikey Bennie!!! That's a Beauty. And still so much season left to take an even bigger one if ya want.

Not too shabby at all. Good fishing.

Remember Jacques... that's your grow "and possession" limit. You've gotta do up a serious amount of croutons to rid yourself of the garlic you have, before you can go out and grow anymore.