Moosebunk

Singapore... Tuktoyuktuk??? Ahhhh, PEI.

Great fish Bly. Betcha that chunk gave you a good fight.

The beginning confused me Mike. Just how many cottages do you have? Anyway dood, another splendid time away for ya, and with the family too. Great report.

It started as time away with friends. It later became time away from work. Now it's needed and time well spent no matter why I do it. I love a good Chess game with the fishies too, and I play to win every time.

Your boys smile in the pic with you... slight. Your boys smile with Fishin' Devils daughter... intense. The next day your boy spending quality time in the rain at the end of the dock with his new chick...... classic. Your boy ain't gonna be a boy for too much longer. lol.

Always nice toaking a one hour stumble into an honey hole.

Thanks for taking the time to chat a few weeks back Jim. Appreciate that muchly. All the best. I sure hope you come out of this alright. You don't deserve this battle. Stay strong brutha.

CONGRATS. Great looking fish

ONE KAJILLION DOLLARS

Quote of the day right there. Two outfitters I hold in high regard have taken a drop. Trend continues some outfitters will either give more for less to draw business, or, ask more for the same, either way to make ends meet. Smart shopping will be key. I had an Athabasca Lake Outfitter offer me $1000.00 off for 1 week's guided fishing, all inclusive meals and flight into the remote location. I had an Ungava outfitter offer me $1200.00 off for a late booking. Both places highly priced already but that's because of all that they encompass with their packages in very remote locales. Last years BC trip through smart planning I was able to get our group about $1500 off the regular price. Next year, after some places give their heads a shake and assess their outcomes from 2008, that's when people should be asking for better than the regular price. If they can't or won't, be ready to move on down the list. Do your homework, push for the deals, and better yet, travel in a group to save money getting there, and at the same time use that group as a bartering chip with the outfitter. One thing from looking at outfitters endlessly while online...... THERE ARE TONNES AND TONNES OF THEM. They're going to have to compete harder if many Yanks won't cross the border and Canucks won't fill the tank for the drive. Personally, my appetite to travel and fish is cause for endless searching and probing for the next deal in the best of places. If it's affordable to you and it's your passion, don't let dung get in the way... next thing ya know you're 70 with a pacemaker and a to-do list ya never got started on.

Dang Economy... Dang Planet. I'm two steps away guys from moving to Mars. Don't push it. Problem with tomorrows big questionable worries is that it takes away from living today. Booming or crashing, guess I'll deal with it then.

They're much like the Izumi series rods. At least the one I have. I won one in an online photoderby thingy once. It's OK... served me OK. I like having it around, it's a 6'6" medium spinning rod and it does feel much like my old Izumi rod of the same. That old rod just bagged me 10 pike over 40 inches while I ran 30lb braid on a Symetre reel so I think it'll work for ya in a pinch dood.

You'll find more than a few folks who believe 40 inch pike to be 20 pounders.... when the average is about 16. It's not unheard of for a long skinny fish of 43 to be around the 16 mark either. I wouldn't be put off with either number for your PB... 43 inches is a great fish no matter what. You must have made it into Magiskan cause I'm pretty certain I recognize one of the photos as being the end of that lake where you'd come in. Mikwam is a pretty great little corner of the Cochrane District. Scenic. Thanks for the report. Ya see many sturgeon on the trip or no???

Geeeez. Kids out wrecking their adult expensive toys all in the name of fish, competetion and commraderie...................... Some things never grow old. Fun stuff TJ.

89 Dodge Shadow I think it was. Only took me about 6 months before I blew it up. Really blew it up.

Couple chunky monkeys for ya Jigger. Good show.

Ya had me going there for a minute or two Cliff with this one. lol.

Thanks Gang. This summer is only just getting started.

TO PYM. The Polar Bear Express was at a near crawl. I had just passed Sucker Creek around mile 90 when the train slowed, and for the next hour I made many deep sighs as only eight miles were traveled. Kids bounced off the walls around me while I gazed out the window counting black spruce trees and thinking of days past. Back in 2000 living up in the remote town of Attawapiskat, fishing took on a new meaning. So much time and space to myself I often plied the waters from a float tube in the warm seasons and then poured over maps and fishing books during the two winters. I wasn't really any good at fishing then, had done some in the late teens but didn't know about the details and technicalities needed to properly angle certain fish. In Attawapiskat I made a number of mistakes regularly, mistakes I was just not yet aware of. Although, in the brackish tide waters of the river there which I could access, certain species just weren't abundant. Could say I learned the hard way. On the river bank in town I often caught fisherman returning from their travels upriver, some days with big pike in their arms. I twice got invited up the river to fish, one time seeing and feeling for myself the biggest pike of my life. A fish locked in memory now that some nights gets relived in my dreams, a reminder of a day really special to me. I have looked forward to returning to the Attawapiskat ever since leaving. Riding the slow rails south on the Polar Bear Express I was destined for Hearst to meet an online crew of anglers which I assembled from ReelBuddies; four fellas committed to my belief of great fishing days ahead. Two days later all groceries, gear and people were accounted for when we arrived at Hearst Air Services, Carey Lake airbase, for our sunrise flight to the remote north. DAY 1. THE FINGERS. Scotty, Trev, Mike, Grant and myself dropped our bags and food onto the scale and came in just a little over the intended pack weight for the flight. Grant nicknamed me a Nazi for pretty much every part of the planning, be it groceries, gear, menu, schedule or whatever. Participation-Nazi, Food-Nazi, Tackle-Nazi, I got it all, but by weeks end I think all the fellas may have realized that attention to detail and good planning only made for less gongs and more time fishing. Wasn't long at all after meeting Mike and Melanie Veilleux that we were in the air flying over the land which gives hatch to the entire worlds supply of mosquitos, The James Bay lowland muskeg. In a Turbo Otter with more than enough leg room and capacity to fly us and our gear the 200 miles north, all eyes were glued out the windows taking in the scenery; except maybe Trev's which were closed and Grant's whose were fixated on all the controls of the cockpit. We flew over the small town of Ogoki on the Albany River where I counted 55 houses, and in just two hours we touched down on the Attawapiskat where we were met on the dock by our local Ojibway guide Norman from Ogoki and his geemisum (girlfriend) Christine from Fort Albany. Immediately the bugs greeted as well. The cabin there at Pym is huge. Inside we had ample room to romp with all the amenities of home including satellite TV and a shower-house. I thought that was pretty cool considering where we were. Mosquitos were quick to follow us indoors but they weren’t the only bugs around either as I caught this fella hitch-hiking on my shoulder... a rather large adult stonefly. Unable to wait for long we had things unpacked and rooms assigned in no time. Norman was eager to get his new guests onto the water to show us around. Scotty and Trev left camp east while Grant and I followed Norman, Christine and Mike to the west. After splitting up from Norman, Grant and I found ourselves alone searching the place out. Fishing was tough at first, we really had to work to figure things out. Grant referred to the time as dialing in to the fish. After a number of hours I could feel the sun burning my neck when we came upon some small rock islands breaking the river's current. On the first cast there into the eddy Grant hooked a pike before we even got anchored. The next hour or so he and I would find a few more gems in the turbulent current seams. Grant caught the bigger fish of the day with this beauty 7lb'er. Back at camp Trev and I barbequed up some surf and turf with potatoes au gratin and skewered veggies. Was a tough but short fishing start for all, but the meal replenished the spirits. Mike picked up a mid 30 inch pike with Norman while Grant after dinner had a high 40 inch pike straighten a snap on his leader. I broke the tip on my medium-heavy Loomis spinning rod after a mid 30 inch pike and a tangled up stick in the line forced a boat-side mishap, this leaving me with just my baitcaster as my other heavy rod for the week. We knew great things were to come the next day, but first we had to survive Mike. Needless to say, it took me about three minutes to reassign myself out of Mike's room. He is the loudest snorer I have ever heard. DAY 2. UPRIVER. The Pic coil had just extinguished about 5:00am freeing any surviving mosquitos from their stronghold. Not the buzz but the tickle on my face woke me from a deep sleep. Trev was up and stirring, unimpressed by the skitters as well, so we rose to make breakfast and plan for a full day out including a shorelunch on the river. After bacon and eggs, Norman, Christine and I set off from the gang to work some new water. The morning was slow for me. We drove straight to a large eddied-out bay Norman called Torpedo Bay and it was here that I watched Christine pick up two 40 inch pike on a light rod with 10lb mono and no leader. She also nabbed a few other high 30 inch fish and did so with the greatest of ease. I asked, how long you been fishing pike girl? to which she replied, about two weeks. She was onto something. In fact, she only uses two baits; actually just one bait but in two different colors, one for walleye and the other for pike. Norman takes great enjoyment out of simply watching his guests catch fish, and me, I really enjoyed watching Christine tame these pike... I just needed to learn to do it myself. Torpedo began to sink and so we moved upstream a ways into the most scenic little backbay on the entire river. In here the fish were on. Both Christine and I put a beat on numerous pike in the 30 to 37 inch range. The sun began to show a little more and with it came the heat on the back of my neck and the blackflies. Didn't much care though, the place was awesome. I bombed out a spoon and gave it a slow drag back to the boat when from it's depths I felt a thunk then quick tug. After the end of good fight I boated the first trophy northern of the trip. After the pics and release, like flies to honey the other anglers arrived in the same bay. Truth be told the group was right on time at the expected meeting place for a shorelunch. The fish pretty much picked over by Christine and I, we all left together to easily catch enough walleyes in short time to get lunch started. Norman has perfected this cooking process and works efficiently to get his hungry crew fed. We didn't mind pitching in a little to help out either. After lunch Norman, Christine and I pushed on further upriver, leaving the group behind to work more waters back to camp. Our long drive to a huge 200 yard long eddy off a big set of rapids paid off. The high winds of the day and turbulent rapid waters made for some interesting fishing but it took absolutely no time at all before I pegged a large northern. And of course Christine continued to work her own magic as well. In fact, while she played this fish Norman and I were convinced she had a higher 40 inch pike or one of the rivers many sturgeon on the line. It gave her lighter rod and line a real test. Christine and I both hooked fish about the same time and in order for me to help her; and to allow Norman to keep boat control as we were unanchored in the wind, I landed and released a trophy pike of my own without even getting a pic during our chaotic double header. Take a minute and imagine bouncing around in a canoe during some double-header action of two trophy northerns..... yeah, we lived that. lol. Christine's fish hit the 40 mark, elated and energized I just got right to casting. Too energized I cast a birds-nest in the wind and lost the lure that was working for me. Within an hour or so I came to realize my Abu baitcasting reel was toast as well. The line guide thread stripped and not catching properly for the return from the right side, thus spooling much of my line all to the right. Broken rod yesterday, now a junk reel, I had my old medium Bob Izumi standby suited up with a 4000 series Shimano and 30lb Power Pro. This outfit went on to save the week and land me many more fish, including two more trophy pike for the day. Here's a chunky monkey for yas, or as Grant would say, a snarlin' darlin'. We had to burn on out of the spot to get back. I enjoyed running rapids on the way home with Norm. He's an excellent river traveler and guide, and one to learn from. The winds were nuts and on route we took a break back at Torpedo Bay for some casts. The gusts were directing water straight in to the backside of the point which created the eddy itself. Fish pushed up tight in there I used the wind to make some of the longest bomb casts ever from our parking spot way off shore. I smoked them. Just SMOKED THEM in there. A half dozen 35-38 inch pike Christine and I released then I ended the day with a freight train of a walleye. This gurl fought like a champ and came in on the scale at 8 pounds. What a way to cap the day which saw Christine and I land 11 pike 40 inches and over, many pike 35-39 inches and a number of eyes, some in the five pound range with some bigger. Back at camp I was quick to learn that over in the bay which saw Grant get his leader straightened by a large pike the evening before, did Trevor just have his rod snapped by a gargantuan fish as well. Scotty reported back with a 42 and 40 pike himself, and the others although bagging no pike trophies had great eyes and pike keep them interested. Fish tales swarmed around the cabin with the skitters while Mike prepared some burgs and I snuck in a hot shower then scotch before bed. DAY 3. POW. The D-O-double G, aka Scottydog, aka Scotty and I were up next. Two cocky pike hunters sharing the same canoe the air around us reeked confidence. We had high hopes. We held back and let the others travel ahead when we began to work a weed edge along a narrow channel off the main river. Before long we approached Grant and Mike who were parked ahead and so we pulled in behind them and anchored in a small bay. I took my first cast there and pegged a rather larger headed and long esox. It felt great... dunno how it felt for Mike and Grant though. (dig) I realized around this time I forgot the map. Nice thing about rivers is they only flow one way, but the down river section from camp is littered with islands in and around the enormity of Pym Island itself. The wind began to really start kicking and throw up the odd four footer in the main channel. Together with Mike and Grant's boat following, we picked our way along and stopped at any fishy looking water. Off a back-eddy near an island point I dropped a first cast under some overhanging alder bushes. KA-PAM My offering got hammered and I was in for one of the best pike fights of my life. This fish impressed all onlookers as it wouldn't tire and made countless runs and a jump. Norman's boat having the only net we were all forced to hand-land our pike while in the other boats on this trip, and this fish sure gave me a couple spooky moments when attempting the grab. I certainly had the confidence now. It wasn't even noon and I had nabbed two 40+ inch fish. I also had the right lure which had caught me a few other 35 inch-range pike during the morning. A red and white bucktail inline spinner. After getting a little lost we just happened to stumble upon Norman who was out with Trevor and Christine for the morning. They had been waiting for us for a long time on this one spot. Trevor had landed a big eye in the 10lb range for the morning and when we pulled in there and started casting I picked up three pike in the high 30's within minutes and began feeling my ego inflate a little. Before long we set off down river together and Scotty and I came to the back of an island where he started to get on the board with a number of 3 to 5 pound walleye and a mid 30 inch pike. I kept nailing fish as well. By mid afternoon Norman had taken us quite a ways down river. He guided Trevor and they blew right by this one spot with Mike and Grant in chase. I saw opportunity in a huge overlooked back-eddy bay on route and pulled in there. Scotty and I immediately began destroying fish, it was sick as the kids these days would say. I must have caught a dozen 30 to 39 inch pike in there with some gorgeous big eyes in the mix. Scotty and I when blown into shore were casting outward when I felt the sudden stop of my big bucktail. What ensued after this was possibly the hardest fight of the week for me. A phat trophy northern forced Scotty to take the helm and drive us off shore away from fallen debris, but not before his rod got caught up in a branch off the bow and I had to play the pike and untangle that mess. Minutes later, safe from everything, I held the Big Crunch Sandwich and let the boys take a bite. I love this pic the best, what a phat fish. It was hard to call it quits. The lucky lure of mine had to be retired by days end for it was nearly stripped of all it's bucktail. It killed me to do it, wondering if I'd find anything else in the tackle box to compare to it's sheer gnarly-wickedassness.. The long ride back which Scotty referred to as the super long damn-off ride back, took about an hour and a half or more. At the cabin I filleted the only pike of the week we kept; a badly gill bleeding 35 incher, which I smoked on the BBQ over a cedar plank. On the side we had some cedar smoked sausages, veggies and pesto noodles as well. While Mike watched TV and I enjoyed some Led Zeppelin - Travelling Riverside Blues on the Ipod speakers, Grant piped up with his plan for the coming day, I'm gonna make some great casts tomorrow, he says. We all had a good laugh. DAY 4. ANDANO AND DUDE RAPIDS. The Oldguy Trevor and I had a tricky start to the morning. The winds had completely changed direction and a cold front was rolling in on us for sure; the fish were down. In a place like this and after the last two days I had just experienced, I almost didn’t expect to have to work this hard for any fish. I chalked it up as karma. Yep, karma was coming my way today because of the two previous perfect days. Grant was away with Norman well upriver on the spot Christine and I had enjoyed the double header trophies, while Scott and Mike were bringing up the rear fishing some bays below Torpedo behind us. Trev and I couldn't manage much except the necessary fish for another shorelunch on the rocks scheduled for 2pm. I suffered a gong when on an overhead cast I thwaked myself in the back of the head with a spoon and it peeled off my cap and cast out into the river. There's still a bump that I’m happy to have instead of a hole from a hook. After the big delicious feed we all set off for a bay which Grant, Christine and Norman had only a short time to fish but seemed to produce. Scotty and Mike though went the other way down river. Above a long but easy set of rapids we came upon the spot and did get into a few medium-ish sized pike but Grant took the fish of the afternoon with a nice sized walter. We went over for the photo-shoot and the necessary congrats on this tougher fishing day. The evening ride home Trev and I broke away and cast some new waters. It worked well as we both picked up a few fish on route. I found some weedy areas on the backsides of some islands and enjoyed a few pike explosions on different baits. I nabbed a 38 incher somewhere along the way but didn't bother with a picture. Grant somewhere else also caught his first 40+ incher of the trip and Scotty later reported back with two trophy pike for the day. After a lasagna and caesar salad meal I sipped my scotch at the table while Pic dying skitters rained down onto the floor and table in the cabin. We, with Norman, tried discussing the options for the following day as it was forecasting rain. Unable to make any concrete plan Scotty said we'll just come over in the morn when we're ready to head out. Norman's reply before shutting the door, You don't have to come over, just call collect. DAY 5. TORNADOS. This is what Mikey had been reduced to thus far. To consistently peg good pike and eyes I honestly think it takes some practice and Mike's week was improving as he felt his way into fishing new species for him. He did get the big fish on day one with Norman and I had really hoped to get him on the trophy board on this day. We took off at first with the group to Andano Rapids but by early afternoon parted ways and I don't think saw the others for the rest of the day. The weather was all over the place. Sun, cloud, wind, calm, then eventually a little rain and really bad bugs in the evening. The morning was slower at Andano although I had hit nice pike on route there, but by mid afternoon Mike and I noticed things picking up. It was an OK day numbers wise for me but neither of us had seen anything in the 40 inch range. Come evening we were working our way home when we pulled into Torpedo. I nabbed a couple pike and Mike picked up one as well. On my new confidence lure of the day (an MT Livewell favorite) this big eye drilled it on the splash and drop. I could not get over the average size of the walleye on this trip. Before arriving I had expected great numbers of eater sized fish with the odd five, maybe seven pounder gracing the boat. But this place traded all those eaters for just generally big walleye. By weeks end between the five of us I could only guess at 4-5 dozen walleye in the 5-10lb range, with the odd 12lb'er reported. I think the numbers could have been greater for both species had we not been dealing with water levels five feet higher than the normal for the season. Fish were definitely scattered in the many more pockets and shoreline waters available to them. This was one walleye I put back, even though I was making the group Tornados for dinner. Mike and I picked our way along back to camp. The next spot we stopped I was casting into the seam created off an upstream point and a slow incoming creek when I got nailed hard but no fish stuck. I wouldn't let up on that casting line after that, it was about a dozen tries later I got smoked not once, twice, thrice but four times by a ravenous 42 er. It was awesome having a pike take four hard swipes before I stung him. Mike comments on this fish, “you really have the horseshoe up your donkey don’t you.” Not sure what Mike caught but I was happy to have a trophy for the day. As we drove down river to camp I got to work filleting the eyes for supper while Mike steered the way. Before fully retiring to the cabin we saw the others were still out fishing so we fished the bay across from the cabin where I managed one more rocket for the day. Didn't quite make biggun’ status but I liked the lone tree in the background so I requested Mike take a pic. Bacon wrapped walleye fillets, corn on the cob and shrimp paela hit the late suppertime plate and the group marveled over Scotty's report of a five 40+ incher pike day while out with Norman. I didn't get any of his pics in email yet but I'm sure he'll be posting his own wherever, whenever. Trev on the other hand bagged a big eye and Grant was quick to get that one to me. Nice fish Trev. DAY 6. LONG HAUL. On our way down river the next morning we stumbled upon Mike (who was out with Norman) just at the right time. Mike was into a good fish and his new PB so Grant and I stopped in to help with the photo shoot. It was a cold weather day. Toques were on us while in Toronto they were suffering a 40C humidex. I had longjohns but still had the chills part of the morning, and we could see our breath. I also had a real foul mood for the first couple hours which I should apologize to Grant for. That all changed though after we had made a long run down river to the bay where I slayed the last phat pike of the day on day three with Scotty. I’ll call that bay “Phat Pike” Bay. When Grant I pulled in there and anchored my first six fish of the hour were all walleye in the 5 to 8 pound range. I was dialed in as Grant would put it, he on the other hand was having a bit of a slower start. The walleye fishing warmed me up. They were super aggressive these big fish as you'll see in this next pic when a hefty eye thumped a 12 inch homemade 2 ounce inline musky buck. I didn't fish walleye all week, (except for a few quick jigs to get shorelunch eyes) they just hammered all my pike offerings. Grant and I exhausted the large bay for hours before deciding to set off around 3:30 and explore unchartered waters down river. We eventually came upon one kick-donkey spot around an area aptly named Highbank, because of the high banks lining the river. In another large, shallow back-eddied bay Grant and I had a few follows from some rather big pike. Grant was getting dialed in himself I could tell, and he caught a few fish in the area. Grant had never been north either for this kind of fishing and after our outing day one I could tell he was zoning in on this kind of river fishing as time progressed. We pulled into the tail-out of the bay where a small creek comes in. We seemed to be in a slightly deeper hole. Grant cast to the shoreline off the bow and me the shoreline off the stern when simultaneously we both hooked fish. Grant's wouldn’t budge, mine was big but workable. I could tell his was the better fish as he had little to no control so I got my high 30 inch fish into the boat and released it quick so I could land his fish. Grant eventually won the thing over but it took about ten minutes of putting the gears to the brute. Boat side I got under it's plate and Grant had his PB of the trip a heavy 42 incher. Perfect. He never lost that grin off his face for the rest of the day. And with the long haul back upriver ahead, we both near fell asleep driving to camp. Was another awesome day out where we stretched our time and rode home late, dodging scattered showers and taking wrong turns around islands. At camp Trev reported his first 40+ of the trip as well, while he happily cooked up fajitas readied in perfect time for our arrival. DAY 7. VIRGIN COUNTRY. Norman escorted us all down river just beyond where Grant and I had gone the previous day. Scotty shared the boat with me for our last kick at the can. The fish were off. Just right off. We found most mornings that was the case, until mid afternoon when things would usually pick up. The night before saw big rains and the morn was just killer slow. We had high hopes of un-fished water at a large rock dam that stretched two thirds of the way across the river. In behind this huge obstruction we figured tonnes of fish would be holding, and they might have... but they were just not co-operative other than two eyes that Mike and Grant caught and one pike I anglinated. Here in this place though I could not help but enjoy the scenery. Was quite gorgeous so I snapped a few pics and motioned the guys ashore the rock dam for a group shot. Trev and Norman had buggered off in search of more activity so I am missing some numbers in the one pic. We worked our way slowly back upriver after probing the heck out of this new spot. Grant and Mike were seemingly have some good fishing and at one point Grant was crushed when a large fish got off his line. Trev picked up a large eye with Norman as well. A heavy shower doused us all at one point so we kept moving along. Fishing the Phat Pike back bay a thunderstorm moved in on us and forced us to shore for an hour. I told the boys they were about to be witness to the worst mosquitos they would ever experience, and sure enough as the rains began to let up as the storm passed the bugs became so grotesquely thick that half a dozen would land on your hand between brushing them off every one second. I had the head-net on. Trev, Christine and Norman were somewhere upriver from us. Scotty growing impatient wanted to move on and get clear of the bugs. We joked a little about the skitters but before long just made the b-line straight back to the cabin. The day was not one bit friendly except for when we arrived at camp. 95 miles from Landsdowne House and 305 miles from Attawapiskat we finished fishing the Attawapiskat, then enjoyed a steak dinner and a few drinks. 25 miles of river water in both directions from our camp was our playground for the week. All of it going by in the blink of an eye, yet providing just a glimpse which held countless memories. Yeah. I hear the bugs aren't as bad in that part of the bush. DAY 8. FLYING HIGH, FLYING LOW. Final days suck. I wanted to go home to my girls quite badly but part of me wanted another crack at Torpedo Bay and Andano Rapids as well. We were an efficient crew to get the cabin in good shape before the arrival of a new group of anglers, and while waiting on the plane took time for a lastphoto that this time would include Trev. Minutes later and it was touchdown for the Otter. The new group off the plane seemed as eager as we had been 7 days earlier. It was sick in more than one sense of the word. lol. Loading the gear and a few hundred mosquitoes on the plane we transported back to the real world at Hearst Air's lake base where the boys and I all parted ways. They had 10 hour drives home while I had a private ride expected to pick me up in a few hours. While bumming around the office there I noticed Chronzy's pic on the wall and viewed a number of other pics and maps. A lovely girl named Julie working with Hearst Air could surely sense my boredom and so at lunch she took me into Hearst with her to grab a bite to eat. I was grateful for that as her company was awesome and it really helped pass the time. Back at the base come mid afternoon my buddy John flew in to pick me up. I was getting a ride back to Moose Factory on the Fisherman's Express. A six seater Cherokee. John warned me at take-off it would be a little over an hour flying home but along the way we would be traveling in direct route with one of Canada's heritage rivers the Missinaibi. I instantly got a big hard-on and asked if we'd be flying over the landmark Hell's Gate and Thunderhouse Falls, John's answer to that was fo-shnizzle dizzle. But expect a turbulent run, he warned. Off we went and up in the air John sure wasn't kidding. Probably the bumpiest plane ride I have ever had. He said we could go to 10,000 feet and have smooth sailing but I was like, no frizickin' way dood, I want treetop height when we do a few circles over Hell's Gate. John was up for that. He had never flown over these waters before and he and I both knew that the 220km upriver trek some adventurous fisherman take every spring from the Moose to the base of the falls must be for a good reason. We were curious, so I'll just post a few of the 50 some pics I took on the way in order to show off the magnificence of this waterway which we buzzed along on our flight home. HELL'S GATE. High waters for the season. THUNDERHOUSE FALLS ( a blue tarp in the trees, shelter for campers I would think ) THUNDERHOUSE. THUNDERHOUSE. Outflowing rapids. PORTAGE ISLAND. Where the Missinaibi and Mattagami rivers join to create the Mighty Moose River. MOOSE RIVER CROSSING. ALLAN'S RAPIDS. ABITIBI RIVER. MOOSE FACTORY. Home. First 2007's BC Sturgeon, now 2008's Attawapiskat's Pike Trip. 100% success this year and I owe that to the commitments made by ReelBuddies - Trevor, Mike, Grant and Scotty who put their trust in my guessing that Hearst Air would pay off by providing the fishing trip of a lifetime. Thanks Hearst Air, Julie, Mike and Mel for your absolute professionalism from day one. And a big thanks to Norman and Christine for their hard work, kind moments and big smiles. “If life is fishing at Pym, life ain't just good, it's grand.”

Like the snout on that pike. In the pic it looks short and muskie like. Good chunky fish too. Thanks for the report.

Yep!!! Checked these earlier too. Great shots KickinF.

Many more to come Clive. Congrats on the wee dood if I didn't send that out yet.

So... where's the pics??? Musta missed them. lol.

It's better to look good than to feel good. B. Crystal

If Mike was on my turf I would have had him dragging my boat. If I was on his, I would have had him dragging his and my boat. HAHA.