Moosebunk

My good man, that'll likely be fixed at a later date. Only managed a short 2 - 2 1/2 hours or so really on specks this trip. Just the way it unfolded. Will try not to disappoint ya again Alan. lol. Still young but feeling it a little bit more every year, although slow down and it'll all just slow to a stop that much faster. Can't leave these kinda days for old age when it'll be all that much more difficult to do. Coming months hoping to prove to myself that I can still work and play like I did at 20 years old. You can still carry those 9.9's deep into the bush can't ya?

If you're heading to O.R.R. with Frank I think you'll really enjoy the time. It's a different beast Bill and fishes tough at times but you'll get on fish. Be sure to plan a couple days for him on other lakes for walleye too. I remember he likes his gold. Methinks you need another trip back having left yourself open to needing a big laker. You know you'll like it a second time. lol. Hey man I quit on that dream a long time ago. He showed up to the party some years after me, followed my lead awhile, then left me in the dust. Ahhh, Mikey's gig is great... but mine suits me more. Do the same thing bud! Endlessly. Especially when I used to ride the train or fly more in and out of the North. Staring out windows and wondering what's swimming in where and how big they gotta be.

Glorious pose! The favorite, Wicked shot. Great trip report Joey!

THE HOGS TROUGH. The locked door rattled on the shower house as I sat down on the throne. Finishing up and exiting, I was strangely surprised to find a woman near my age had been quietly waiting just outside, so close in fact she may as well have had an ear pressed to our shared pooper portal. Kinda weird, and I wondered if she enjoyed the symphony. The night had dropped to 3C and I'd been early to wake, warm-up and wolf down a huge breakfast. Rob had guests expecting to check-out, then afterwards he'd be occupied cleaning that cabin for some new anglers arriving later in the day. As well, another guest staying at the resort had blown a trailer tire the previous evening, and Rob had assured them he would have it temporarily fixed. With much for him to do I was on stand-by for the fishing, and with absolutely no issue in that. Right at 10:00am check-out the last couple scragglers from a group of ten departed the biggest cabin. Watching from across the yard, my buddy Wilf slipped right on in there behind them and began the work, and I strolled over to help out. This cabin is awesome. Aside from the cleaning to do, I was impressed by the huge stove and table, two bathrooms and the bed accoms for ten people. Thought to myself, now wouldn't this be a fun party for a week or two? Sweeping, dusting and washing the counter-tops, fridge, stove and sinks didn't take much time for me, Wilf too changed all the beds and tended to laundry before mopping up the floors and scrubbing the bathrooms... Rob I figured was off fixing that tire. A remarkable undertaking Onamans is. A vast property, remote, with cabins, campsites, a launch, docks, office, garage, shower house, big fish cleaning station, two permanent homes and all of it totally off-the-grid. Solar and wind generate power for the entire resort and all the cabins have hot running water as well as fridges, propane stoves, heat and everything else you'd expect to find for day-to-day living. Two men, only Rob and his aging father Wilf work tirelessly from May to November to care for it all, and come winter while there alone, they continue to maintain it accessible and safe as well. How Rob through the summer manages to soldier on at the speed he does, day in and day out, with several full-day fishing charters each week, phone calls, bills to settle, endless work to be done, and his guests constantly requesting attention, this is totally beyond me. He has breakfast before 7:00am and often eats interrupted dinners in the office as the late sun sets. I have met and known a few men like Rob in life, and I always find such folks fascinating. What is most admirable is how motivated, talented, interesting and durable people like him are, because again, it is a constant grind of hours, a hard labor of love, and a uniquely challenging life choice. But, Rob is doing it well and right, for his business has grown by leaps and bounds since he took it over 13 years ago. Nearing noon this day was just perfect, the best weather of the entire week. A loose and leaky facet in the big cabin was another unexpected setback for Rob but he got to fixing that right quick. He was growing as eager as I to get out fishing. In the meantime during his repair work, he asked if I could fuel his boat. No problem! That task only took me about 25 minutes, although the 350 liters I poured into his 24 foot cabin cruiser only brought the 1200L tank up to a third. I was stoked when finally seeing him and Loki make their way down to the dock. BY 1:00pm he was running his program and I was running mine, the rest was up to the fish Gods. Seven hours trolling the Hogs Trough in the deep blue, Rob and I talked of his travels and mine, our family and friends, wildlife, business, boats, skidoos, our pasts, present and futures and of course fishing. His company is always a pleasure, and our time out was just as Rob had advertised it the evening before, "a day of fun fishing for the two of us;" three including Loki the wonder dog. So far the trip was quite different from my first to Onamans a couple years earlier. Although fishing hard enough each day, it seemed for me to be much more relaxing. There was less pressure to find fish. Less responsibility to cater, and no expectations for my time. I had asked Leah to join me again for this return but figured it was an extreme long-shot. It would have meant missing some school in the final week and a Ju-Jitsu tournament which she loves to compete at alongside friends. That and, a week from Mom to only fish is still a hard sell for a little girl. I would be over the moon to have the family join me some week up on the Nip, but at times when thinking about it while on the water, this round I most wished for having Leah there. It would have been great to build on our previous time. Rob's rod took a rip around 2:30pm but popped off. He got to feel that fish just a minute and knew he'd missed a big one... "Big ones," that's laker fishing on Nipigon. In fact, more specifically that's fishing the Hogs Trough. Nipigon's potential for giant lakers is unparalleled in Ontario. In fact, size-wise the lake's fish measure up to most all of Canada's trophy lake trout waters, but just don't at all expect the same numbers boated. Week before I arrived at O.R.R. a 44-pound laker had been caught and released. The Resort record during Rob's tenure has held over the years at 54 pounds. On a weekly basis, an actually daily charter basis, or even by calculating my own catches, lakers caught this end of Nipigon average 18-20 pounds. That average and that size potential crushes Lake Ontario; or "Lake Awesome" as it's dubbed these days. The Nipigon can grow it's greys 20+ pounds bigger than the best salmon weighed each year in the GLSD. You consider this, and quickly come to realize that these Holy Mackinaws are comparable to the world's best, and they're on drive-to waters right here in Ontario. Again, the difference to keep in mind is, they don't jump in the boat in huge numbers, for laker fishing Nipigon is more akin to muskie fishing south, you're often hunting after "big ones." Although yes, some areas of the lake I'm learning you can more often bang better numbers too, an example being last summer's solo tour with one rod and one hot spoon managing 21 total with a 16-pound best, all of which were caught in about ten hours worth of trolling time. As Murphy's Law would have it, soon as we put the hot BBQ'd beef sandwiches to our mouths come dinner, Rob's rod fired for it's second time. Watching him grab that and pop the trolling motor into neutral, it was he who from the corner of his eye suddenly caught my rod bend hard as the lure fluttered toward bottom. Rob's in short off the rigger but mine flat-lined way back, it was my first Nipigon double-header, a chaotic and exciting moment all at once. Rob's fish played in fast and came to the net still rather fresh, but my laker was a bull. After it held back and deep for some time, the process of inching it to the boat began. When the counter read 15 to 17 feet and I was well onto my leader, the laker must have seen me and tore off for bottom... When it stopped pulling line it was back to 192 feet. I began again. At boat-side finally; like a guy who's chartered lakers the past decade, Rob quickly pulled his fish from the net, scooped up mine, and put his back in. Two fish alive and kicking in 40F water off the gunnel, he kept them there while I prepared the camera for a timer shot. The rest is some seriously good history... and my fish a new Ontario softwater PB. Nipigon is just magic. FLYING McGYVER. No time to waste on the sixth and final day, powered by a 25 Yammy on the 14-foot Cresty and able to haul arse at 29mph, I don't think another boat had launched before me come morning. The river calm and the lake glass, some speckle fishing way out there was the plan. Blowing through the flats at the river mouth, there perched in her nest above was a mother eagle guarding her chicklets. The right camera with me this time, the boat inched closer and closer until not far under the tree. Some screeching out and stomping feet was enough to get that raptor nervous, take flight and give me some of what I was jonzing for. Squawk!!! The offshore islands were a good glide away, and there wasn't another soul to be sensed on the lake. Speckle fishing in this area I personally find more difficult than in other parts of the lake. Both times visiting Onaman's have been in the same month, and during this period these fish are often transitional. Ice out the specks roam and rule in the shallows, those frigid but warming back bays. Pike and eyes are still lethargic or spawning then in May and June. Once those nooks and crannies begin to heat up and those toothy predators get moving easier, the specks vacate and take to rockier shorelines out near deeper water, and many also migrate to offshore islands. Intercepting them in the right place at the right time on the move would be best chance for me when I have visited the area, although it had been said that fish were already being caught on the islands this season. Come later months, out there is where most would likely be found. Some friends have asked me to weigh in on the pros and cons between the different experiences/choices over the years. Getting to fish from Onaman's again this time around there's more to consider now than there had even been before. Considering only the lake itself, lakers and walleye in my opinion are better up north, specks and pike are better to the south. Less pressure and boat traffic north, and each end has great options for other off-lake experiences and accommodations. My total hours speck and pike fishing up north is about a tenth of the time put in on the same fish south. For families, especially children or spouses with limited fishing skills, having walleye to fish is the best species option on the lake. With the slowest, sketchiest internet capabilities and limited time, Rob will admit he struggles to keep up with the online aspects of today's outfitter resort biz. The website does need a face-lift and his Facebook page could use some likes. So, as a friend I have little issue right now taking this moment to help him out and promote only what I have always enjoyed promoting with my fishing the most, and that's the experience in and of fishing. Onaman River Resort really is a no-brainer for anyone looking to find a great fishing experience. Nipigon has the greatest trophy specks in the world, the biggest lakers in Ontario and, pike and walleye in huge sizes and numbers. O.R.R. crushes pretty well all fly-ins for prices yet provides fly-in quality fishing, and the schedules in and out can be much more flexible with never any delays. There's no limit to gear, food, choices and friends one could take along with them on a trip, it's whoever and whatever you want to drive in with. Finally, O.R.R. has access to dozens of lakes and miles of bush-trail riding so, "no-fishing" days do not exist because of bad weather, there's always options... So doods, this isn't some over-priced, plastic fad lure getting pimped out here, for the price of one Loomis pole or half of a cheap fly-in, an angler could live the same kinda week I just did in this report. Again, a no-brainer that shouldn't even need explanation. Nuff said. Website... http://www.onamanriverresort.com/ or "like" Rob's Facebook page at... https://www.facebook.com/pages/Onaman-River-Resort/732274960161126?fref=ts Areas off the islands deemed most specklish were void of anything biting, but small pike. I trolled around exploring for the better part of three hours before noting a sudden change in the air temperature. Very quickly the dead east wisps turned west, and in less than minutes a one foot chop rolled on the surface as it got chilly. Left no choice but to be safe, the gear got secured, the wet floor bailed, and the Cresty surfed east through the Humboldt to calmer waters. A couple hours back in there fishing in new bays I searched out pike, catching a few here and there from where emergent cabbage was growing up in the real, real, really shallows. Around 4:00pm I turned in at the river mouth where most boats were stacked up fishing for pike and eyes. Avoiding the crowd, the bow turned away as I blazed off elsewhere to keep on a stealthy pike quest. An hour later, deep in a back bay and on top of numerous snoters, trolling shallow and casting weed edges the pike were getting snarly for dinner. Some decent mid 30-inchers here and there kept it light, but I was impressed to finally conjure up one of those better rabbits from the hat. A quality pike show it was in those final hours. Satisfied enough I exited stage left and quit on the day early. Did pop some eater eyes off the dock back at Onaman's but was happier to get in at a good hour for dinner and relax that final evening while visiting with Rob. The outdoors and fishing is such an intense but inspiring addiction, and although a couple more days would have been fine, this quick trip turned out the perfect little fix. I pulled in the drive at supper the day before expecting to be home and as always, Leah was watching out. There's no way I could have missed her elementary school graduation the following day, so I was sure to be back in good time. For years now, each outing upon return, be it from a day or a week of fishing, Leah steps outside and asks me the same three questions. How was the fishing? Did you catch any fish? Did you bring any home? She's always curious and friendly that way, a gift she is. At her graduation she accepted a big award for her great character, making her dad very happy and proud to be back home. This won't be the last Solo Roady. Bunk.

THE BEST OF IT. Heading into Onaman Lake eh," Rob remarks. "Groups in there have been catching upwards of a hundred walleye a day, and big." "But what about pike too," I ask? Rob answers, "this side lotta hammerhandles but, if there are any big ones they're likely scared of the walleye." Onaman Lake is a "fly-in" doozy that's been on my radar for a few years. It's nearly Kesagami Lake big at 26 by 10 kilometers at it's most stretched. Out of Nakina you can soar your way to an outfit that's pretty well got this giant all to itself, although, the price tag to that starts at $725PP for 3 days and goes up from there. When you're traveling solo or with just one buddy, that may or may not work out even despite the funding. Over the years I have read and heard mixed reviews. 100% hands down this is an awesome walleye fishery, that's never disputed in the least. For me to fly in for a week I'd want to know that the pike pack a solid punch too. Walleye are fun and all, but a week of them isn't of interest enough. Only once has it been mentioned that big pike are in the lake, and they gotta be there, but to what kind of numbers and chance catch who knows. On this day with Stevie Z all that over-thinking and wonder didn't really matter much anyways, this was the choice, and the feeling was it would be a great one. We lost an hour taking a wrong turn on route to the lake. The Titan did some mud running and nearly ran over a partridge family before we clued in that our tracks were the only ones going in on what should otherwise be a beaten path to a "parking lot." It was a big wind day keeping the bugs down a little. Nipigon would have been impossible for my boat to get far into 30 knot winds so this was such an excellent option. We'd be entering the lake to the boat cache in a protected bay where the blow would be offshore for our day of fishing. Once we did park and shoulder our gear, we learned that the trail into the lake was absolutely mint; talking ATV wide and hardened like a Gatineau Park bike route. The twenty-minutes of hiking was nothing, not even for this out-of-shape pair, and by 11:30am despite our extra scenic drive we were unlocking a tinny. It wasn't ten minutes before finding a half dozen fish, and we hadn't even really reached the lake yet. Once we did approach the big water and open our eyes to it, we were pretty taken aback. It is just as I thought, a doozy. But for it's size it's treacherous as it is shallow, shoaled and littered with boulders here and there. The first few hours upon exploring it we picked up enough eyes and snots to be happy, though it wasn't at all epic by any means. Fishing a windswept point we'd located a consistent pocket of fish. A book I had read noted that further offshore from the point was a large flat that was circled a "pike hotspot." For a very short spell Stevie and I trolled some big stuff for them out in the chop, cruising by the point now and again to see what might happen. Well, what happened was, a bigger boat with three guys came out of nowhere and snaked in on that point. Even in the middle of nowhere on some huge lake with hardly anyone on it and probably dozens of places to fish, does one still feel the need to fish on top of another. We left. Heading to the far shore to try completely new water, on a small rock-spit island in the middle of the lake rested a flock of pelicans. Now funny thing is, since chasing down that snowy owl this winter I've kinda come to like birding and, these northern pelicans were one winged prize I had really hoped to encounter on this trip. The circumstance about spotting them on this day was, I hadn't packed the Nikon in and all I had with was my pocket camera. Well, I had told Stevie, we was a going after them birds anyways. Yeah doods, screw the walleye, totally caught me a bunch of pelicans on this day and was sitting up on cloud 9 pleased as punch. Not sure how the pics might turn out, took so many photos I guessed something would be good enough. Thank goodness we didn't smoke any rocks as my nose pointed skyward to the flocks while racing around in the boat. These big birds are supposedly either making a come back or just growing in numbers in that area, I did see too that the cormorants liked hanging around with them. By around 4:00pm working a more windswept shoreline the Agent and I solved the case of the missing walleye. DOH!!! We hadn't started this side because it had been reported that other shoreline is better fishing. On this day that was totally WRONG information. During the next few hours it was a slay fest. Gave up on trolling and went to the cast and even anchored offshore one island where the numbers of fish just climbed and climbed. Onaman Lake proved it's stories true, it was in total fact a walleye fishery and those walleye on average were some rather solid fish. No hog giants for us, we still happily cracked the code on dozens and dozens and dozens of thick gold nuggets. An afternoon like that for first timers quite impressed us both, and we barely touched maybe a twentieth of the lake. Dang that place is good eye fishing. Again, a little slow to get that first dozen to a dozen and half as we felt our way along in Onamans Lake, but that next 4 to 5 dozen fish sure came in a quick flurry of mere hours. Lotsa fun with a buddy beside ya too, and end of the day when thinking about it, at about an hour tops to get in and out, an $80 boat rental back at O.R.R. that included gas, directions to the lake, and some starting points for the fishing, it's a no-brainer that we'll one day do this again. Heck, with some of the great campsites found, maybe we'll camp out there a few days. Stevie got ahead of me on the trail trekking back to the truck, and rounding a bend stumbled into a small wolf that was quick to disappear. Turning the key and pulling away it was a black bear that crossed our path next. The number of rabbits and foxes on the main road back to Onaman's Resort was quite staggering too. Got back in good time to pin down the tents and set up some wind-blocks. Real big blow overnight and chance for some heavy rain forecasted. This was the day we hoped to simply make "the best of it," and turned out the best of it was certainly made. TO FEEL YOUNG AGAIN. Outside Rob's shop come morning we clamped some muffs onto my Yammy. Before pouring the hose to it Rob pointed out at that the thermostat pinhole was plugged up, and so we cleared that too. He's seen it happen many times over that people have had the same issue as me because of the thermostat settings in their motors. The lake is cold, cold, cold, and some outboards up from the south are "set" for a little warmer. Regardless, if you're not 100% sure what the problem may or may not be, there's no risking it to chance on the lake. Hose on to flush and nothing... no return. In neutral we revved 'er up less than two minutes and the temp light came on with the overheat alarm. In seconds I shut that down and accepted my fate. Stevie watched on while Rob's dog Loki tracked a chipmunk into some lumber and chomped on him dead. To think... it's amazing that the lake was cold enough that the water simply up and under the cowling of what parts were submerged, was good to keep the engine cool enough to ride home nearly two hours. We wuz lucky lads really. Felt like a shower day, no not rain just my pits and folds. Rob had a charter to do and the Agent was both feet in the truck by 10:00am to start his five hour drive back to Mattice. Amelie would surely be happy to see her long lost love return. lmao!! After he pulled away all went quiet over a late breakfast, sitting and contemplating what steps to take next. This day plus two more for me to play alone, the world would be mine. The big lake would blow later in the day although it wasn't in the plans to fish it anyhow. Rob lent me a 14-foot Cresty with a newer 25 Yammy and on it's trailer he gave a hand fastening everything down tight. Plenty of my own fuel to burn, I mixed in a little oil and was off and away. Up the road maybe 20 miles or so is a launch onto Ombabika Bay. A little space to fish at a rivermouth I figured the Nip itself would be too choppy to venture upon. If that idea wouldn't pan out, there was another launch onto the Ombabika River where it widens into Babika Lake. That was equally if not more appealing, at least 10 klicks of unimpeded river walleye fishing. Noon I hit the road, letting Wilf know to expect me back late. On route a big momma bear wanted to play chicken a minute before finally trotting off not far into the bush. Slowly passing to have a look, I soon saw why she was up in arms. The road into the Ombabika Bay launch turned me back. Actually, for what seemed like a half a klick I had to reverse my way out through mud ruts and over rough terrain pushing the trailer instead of pulling. It sucked and it was slow going. The big rain the night before must have hit there and I was almost in when the front end of my truck dipped too deep and hit, and worse lay ahead. The new Chev doesn't carry much clearance with it's fancy low front end. Reversing back to Babika Lake / Ombabika River that launch was gnarly steep and cornered but, after numerous tries and a little frustration the boat finally slid in. By this time it was 4:00pm and I'd lost about four hours by what should have taken an hour or so. However, I stopped to photograph the rapids and the bear and the landscape and such, and even upon starting the outboard stopped when I noticed a cow and calf had been watching the trials and tribulations of one man struggling to launch a boat. Making my way up the Babika Lake River felt incredible to me. One lone cabin to be found by the launch the place is empty of human life. Hopping from point to point, eddy to eddy, and any islands or shorelines of interest, traveling and fishing Babika took me back some years to the Northern home. I love exploring like this. Alone and in tune. Miles from anyone. A fish or two to be found around this corner or the next. Purpose all my own... The blackflies insane it didn't matter. Boat leaking some it didn't matter. No toilet, no cellphone, no food joints, who stupid cares. It's grit and goodness, that wholesome man-crap-sorta-stuff, and it makes aging joints more tolerable and any grey hairs worth wearing. It was a beautiful little stretch of life on the Babika and I took it as far as it could go. At the base of the rapids the eyes were on like Donkey Kong Jack! Not much time left it didn't matter, the jiggin' was up. Sizes compared to Onaman Lake were sorta dismal but the odd goody was there thrown in the mix. Surely some bigguns would have be laying somewhere in those miles I barely scratched the surface on, but this spot here was some easy pickerelins. A couple perch even hit and although it's hard to tell, they had some size. This one jumbo believe it or not hit the tape at 13 inches... heck, haven't had one like that in awhile. On the way back the cow and calf had made their way further up the shoreline in my direction. The camera ready again, this time they ducked for cover much sooner... probably because I was coming at 'em with my arse high in the air. Stepping on a slippery rock back at the rapids to push the boat off shore I fell. Somehow the only think I managed to soak by grabbing a gunnel on the way down, was my butt. Riding all the way back I did so ass cheeks forward and into the wind to try and dry off. Sixteen rabbits and a fox were counted on the road home while I blazed Led Zeppelin II so the entire forest could hear my roar. When pulling into O.R.R. shortly after 9:00pm Rob had me in for a scotch and visit. "Some things to do in the morning but I have no charter tomorrow," he expressed, "would you wanna head out the two of us for a day of fun fishing?" HELLS YEAH!!! I drank to that. ... continued...

The girls finishing up school, seeing a window in the work schedule and my gar season nearing a close, it was decided a second solo northern roady was in order. Different ideas rolling around in mind, I always seemed to brake my thoughts right back to the Nipigon. This was the result... MISSION FISHIN'. Blue sky, open road and a destination, kissing the girls in their beds before pulling from the driveway early morn I was on my way... with Esso!!! So, has anyone ever noticed how many rivers along the route from Ottawa to Thunder Bay start with the letter "M"? Well if you are wondering, there's the Mississippi, Madawaska, Mattawa, Marten, Montreal, Mabitibi, Mattagami and Missinaibi to accurately name most. And see with all these particular "M's" it's not only that first letter the flows have in common, they're all actually big waters too. And so just as a matter of peculiar question, that "M" theme may also be for "monsters," because monsters is really what much of these rivers along this route lead to. And it is monsters which I had in mind. A more focused fix in truth, a need for some walleye and pike. Yes, the rivers and lakes of Northern Ontario could have provided a thousand different choices for this fishy combo had their been the time, means and people to plan ahead and maybe book a flight to some super loaded puddle within the wilds, but that wasn't the reality for this June tour. Knowing there would be a window in work sometime nearing the end of the girl's school year and a gnarly spring garly season, left much to last minute the dates just worked out the way they did, and where better to find monster fish of any specie really, than the Nipigon... I'd be forging ahead into a late spring in the north, forewarned that the blackflies and mosquitoes were in full swarm and the temps were still sucking blood near corpse cold freezing at nights. And standing there now on route, early morn in an aisle of the North Bay Walmart, in one hand was a My Little Pony doll and in the other a Disney Princess. See, the road would only lead as far as Mattice on day one, as it was expected I attend the Birthday Party of one cute little darling child, Neve, the daughter of legendary Agent, Stevie Zebco. A toy, some cake munchin' and my best behaviour were required this day, and in return I would be granted safety and shelter overnight. It was a fair trade. Enduring that abomination which is the condition of the road between Kapuskasing and Hearst, arriving shaken, battered and bruised to the foreign tune of "Bonne Fete," the rivets in my trailered Lund were thankfully found to all still be intact, and the smiles on friend's and their children's faces proved I was now at rest in this happy place. Entering the home and joining the party I proudly presented my doll gift to Neve... only to learn that it was not hers, but instead baby Emma's Birthday on this fine day of celebration. After the crowds cleared and the children were put to bed Amelie and I sat quietly enjoying a drink in each other's company. Stevie Z was nowhere to be found. Talking of him I sensed there was some sadness, before finally a teary Amelie confessed that shortly after their third child was born, the Agent, the Medic, our beloved Stevie Z suddenly went missing. He was not in action at the time, nor was he off on some foreign Fishin' Mission or even required to save lives, he simply just up and vanished into the sunset one evening. That first clue being that he was last seen headed east into the said sunset, I vowed to Amelie that I would find him and see him home again. One mosquito I thought I'd managed to kill like twenty times through the night, tormented my sleep through to the early morning. Early hours my stiff back, dry mouth and heavy arse disengaged from the mattress and I once more hit the trail. Furnace Face, Tool, AC/DC, Primus, The Hip. The Cult, The Band, The The, Bob Marley, Paul Simon and even some Floyd kept me adrift on the long straight road which is the 11 North. These drives whether all in one shot or broken up into pieces don't really bother me all that much. Sometimes I sleep for hours on tour, especially between New Liskeard and Cochrane or Hearst to Longlac, but sometimes along with the music I do find other things which keep me going. www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nmsspk73O0I The extra-large Timmies gut rotter had my bladder and bowels roadside within about an hour and a half outside of Hearst. The Klotz Lake pit-stop is the most scenic pull over spot to loosen the noose and lay a deuce, I was so relieved to stretch it all out and lighten the load. Circle checking the truck and trailer before departure I had noticed when pulling in earlier there was a lone bum asleep on one of the nearby picnic tables. A second glance his way now and it appeared this beggar might just be wearing my plaid shirt? Peer in the backseat of the truck and sure enough, my plaid shirt was gone. Well, the balls on this here hobo I thought. He may have needed that shirt more than me but theft ain't cool at all, and besides, I would have certainly sold it to him for cash or certain favors. Angry I stomped over his way to get my clothing back until suddenly recognizing the man... IT WAS THE AGENT STEVIE ZEBCO!!! I had found him. Hugs and happiness we were together again. Sobering him up, dusting him off, and finding and fueling his Nissan nearby, Stevie confessed all that had gone wrong since we last shared a real Fishin' Mission together. "Ohhhh Bunk," he cried, "things were going so perfectly until I had three too many children. After that many there was just so much responsibility, no freedom. I felt smothered, lost, hopeless, tired, you gotta understand Bunk?" "I don't Stevie," I answered him. "I don't at all understand. Yes, the children are our hearts, our love, our joy, our little miracles, but we have wives too, and they are supposed to nurture and take care of all that sorta stuff for us. We are men, we have serious Fishin' Missions that constantly call us away so get your act together man! (slap) Get that head on straight!!! (slap) The world needs awesome anglers like us. Needs us to catch the baddest fish in the toughest places. The kids will survive ti'll you get home and you my brother, you will walk a path in this life not only for your family, but for yourself too. You can do it! Be the Agent you were born to be." Stevie came around. We still had about four hours to go and that time I figured would surely help set him right. Although this was supposed to be my solo mission the man needed my help. Some monster big fish, a little alcohol, some of my delish home cooking and fresh air, all together this would put the Agent back in the Stevie Z... I most certainly hoped. It's where I drank my first beer... It's where I found Jesus... It's where wrecked my first car... ... and I tore this bridge all to pieces. That somewhere I turned the corner in my soul... Down this Red Dirt Road. And there I was at Onaman River Resort. Fishing trips are like experiments. If I put it together or come up with the plan, then I guess I'm the Scientist. Mixing ingredients X-Y-Z with Q-R-S and a little bit of A & B the Scientist controls the variables, hoping to create a magical potion or some other sort of concoction. When it's fishing, that perfect mixture often combines big fish, enjoyment in the work finding them, and finally some relaxation. A highly fun and effective although dangerously potent ingredient to add to fishing is the Agent Stevie Zebco. Together we tend to erupt to the highest heights quick, then make a real mess to clean up. Door to door was 1275 kilometers. Round trip this is close to 500 kilometers less driving than my usual tours west. Upon arrival the owners father Wilf came out to greet us. The Resort was at full capacity and Rob had told his dad I may or may not even show up on this day. Walking the grounds with Wilf we hummed and hawed a little about where to maybe find some space to set up our campsite, before settling on a quiet spot off on our own. Rob was out that day on a charter and we'd certainly catch up later. By 3:30pm Stevie and I had eaten our lunches, pegged our tents and launched the Lund in the river. It was a gnarly windy day on Nipigon limiting us to pike and eyes, but were were totally cool spending an evening on that. Once seeing that big water though, I could feel it's lake trout and specks pulling me out. The breeze kept the skitter and blackflies down to nothing, even in the protected back bays where we cast for pike. Stevie and I did a little damage with him hooking the first good and best fish of the day. After a few hours of the pike we retreated back to the mouth of the Onaman River heading for camp. An island at the rivermouth gives excellent protection from the west winds as you'll see in the next photos, and so please note where the water is calm one side of the grass and white-capping on the other. However, you may also notice that this stupidly vain cow moose kept photobombing my efforts for a high quality picture to illustrate my point. Pay no mind to that mangy beast. For a half hour or so back in front of the dock we stuck a few walleyes for fun. Later, after a gin and a scotch following supper, quite tired in the lantern light of my tent I made a few notes in the journal. The rest of this day remained unwritten by sleep. RIGGER HISSYFIT. Frost overnight and I could see my breath come morning, the good news was the bugs were all frozen to the walls. And ya know, air mattresses really are stupid dumb frigid when you forget a thick blanket to place over-top of 'em to insulate. Though I was kinda sorta reluctant to get out of bed and put on cold clothes too, I did. Toes were actually numb. Stevie was up moments after hearing me rustling for the cookware. A good few camp trips with him and he knows me all too well. Quick coffee and bagel before making the lunches it doesn't take us long to pack ready for the day and be on our way. Poked our heads in the office to check the forecast and say hello. The idea to let someone know where were thinking of heading out there on the water is a good one. While Stevie waited in the truck I told Rob that getting my buddy a big lake trout was the first plan of the day, and if weather stayed nice we'd try knocking a few specks of the list before retreating come evening to pike and eyes. When you think about this; this being what I just wrote, broken down to just simply the fish, the itinerary for our day being lakers, specks, pike and walleye, and it be factored in that there is honest potential to nail trophies in all four species, you're pretty well able to grasp what makes Nipigon that truly special kinda place... You follow that? We pulled off the dock shortly after 9:00am and were about 25 minutes into the ride when realizing I had forgot the downriggers in the truck. Go back and cost us an hour or keep going without them? I hummed and hawed for minutes and decided to just keep trucking on, there were plenty lure choices and terminal tackle that could put us down a little ways. Lakers often being a tough go on the Nip I searched for confidence, and as we came off plane at our starting point, I had thought up a decent attack. Between 10:00 and 11:45am all was quiet. Working over a feeding flat with depths of 40 and outward to 300fow off the drop, we flatlined on the port side a Husky spoon and pulled a Magnum Rapala on the other. There's little in fishing I love more than sitting in my own office, with my tools, and getting down to business. Surface temps ranged 37 to 42C so you could imagine beneath those few top inches it was low 30's. Stevie paying little mind at this one exact moment, I watched the port rod take a sudden hard pull back then go slack. I yelped then that we had just got a hit when the Rapala to starboard got creamed. Out of the holder, loosened the drag a touch and handed it over to Stevie, but kept the boat going forward at idle. Pulled in the Husky quick, stowed gear out of the way, got the net to the ready and popped into neutral. The Agent played his fish like a champ. The big laker wasn't long in the fight for she had sucked that Rap deep to the gill and was rendered a little defenseless by her choice, yet when she saw the boat she goosed it for bottom and gave some angry peel. Back up top, in the net, and Stevie's second laker lifetime blows over 20-pound trophy status with ease. A solid chunk of a fish and man were we both ecstatic. Even though she was a bleeder I know she didn't totally tax herself out. The second that head dipped back into the freezing H2O she was racing to bottom. Pointing at the sonar to Stevie I said, "look at the rocket shooting back down to earth." The lake was pretty well glass so we were quick to turn around, get the lures back out exactly how they had been set before, and troll right over to where we hammered Stevie's girl. In all but 10 to 15 minutes, and immediately after remarking on a big hook that marked on the screen and BOOM!! The Husky fires. Stevie cleared the Rap quick while the Lund was in park and got the net ready too. This fish fought double time and twice ripped 90 to 110 feet of line off the counter. Much love for natural lakers in their element, they just have so much more to give than stocker grease in those heated pans south. When we netted the fish we both knew we had another hog, but I couldn't guess the weight. Longer than Stevie's fatty, this one was a skinny fish at 42-inches yet still a real beauty for first of the week. I'll admit to, that after back-to-back 20+'ers I felt like a rock star considering the riggers were forgotten. Another hour or so and around 1:00pm we decided to book it waaaaaaay out. The lake was still calm, the sun beaming, and although specks were last on my want list out of this trip, Stevie now had a big pike, big laker and if we could pop a speck on the afternoon when the speck trippin' is good, then we'd have all of the evening and all next day nab a quality eye. My thinking was that would be one great slam for the Agent before he departs home early the following day. Finding a nice rocky beach on the backside of an island we beached the Lund, both needing to relieve ourselves. Dirty business done, when we push off and start the motor the Yamaha isn't peeing at all. "FTW!!!" "No, no, no," I cry to Steve, "what's going on here." We drive out a little ways onto the lake, try different speeds, limping to quick rips and nada. No coolant water at all from the port so back to the beach. Going through the manual to troubleshoot does not help. Pulling the small grate from the intake to have a look proves useless. That's really about all I've got to consider... although I wish now I'd have checked to see if the exit port had been clogged, because poking a fine piece of wire in there was the only thing I didn't do. Anyways, the reality was we're 25 miles offshore with what appears to be no working impeller... I do have a radio with channels 1-9 which has limited but decent range, it's a calm day, we have plenty of food, it's only after 2:00pm and I've got four fully charged 12V batteries and a trolling motor that could pull us a little ways if we needed to for safety sake. Decide we'll limp back. Once inside Humboldt Bay and along protected shorelines we'd be all good and in no time certainly be seen. Start off slow putting in around 3-5mph. No issues in five minutes. Increase speed to around 10mph with no issue but, we're just plowing water at that speed. Get up to plane, 16 to 18mph, motor is running about 40-50% and over the next hour and a half make the 25 miles all the way back with absolutely no issue. Engine ran like a top at that rate. No overheat, no funny noises, no bogging down, just perfect motoring... and luck. Back by dinner Stevie and I we're like screw it!! Boat on the trailer, shaded inside the bug tent, poured a stiff gin and 7 and had some supper. If you've read and remember at all "The Northern Pike" Report, you'd realize that this kind of happenstance is the norm for the Agent and I. Something incredibly good happens in our day, followed by something bad. And it doesn't end there... it's our history fishing together. It's why each time we get together we dub the trips "Mission Fishin' Impossible." The Northern Pike Report. http://ontariofishingcommunity.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=42839 As we sat chatting about the setback we did come to acknowledge that there is a bright-side to our troubles. For one, it happened here. It didn't happen while he or I were totally alone out on the lake without anyone knowing our whereabouts. Secondly, we still had dozens of options because of staying at Onamans. Rent a boat to fish the big lake or, head into one of the 40 other accessible lakes close-by. Honestly it had been my plan to do so anyways. Onaman Lake, Northwind Lake, Babika, Frank, Elbow, whatever. There's every kind of natural and stocked trout but browns, and plenty pike and walleye waters all within an hour. Stevie Z had the big Titan pimped for offroad too. The more we thought about it, the more we laughed about our seemingly endless options to further adventure. No Lund, pffft, no prob!!! Blackflies and mozzies out nasty despite a breeze picking up, after our meal we grabbed a few twister tails and our light gear and walked the grounds over to the rapids. For an hour a dozen or so plump walleyes put smiles on our faces. And so in the end, Stevie knocks that nice big eye off the list... What a day he had! Plump and golden purdy eye it took to a double twister tail. A partridge beating nearby and absolutely beaten tired ourselves, we were early to the tent, optimistic for what the following day might have in store. ...continued...

Nicely done Pete. Dissect some new water and beat a favorite haunt, doesn't matter, you put 'em in the boat.

This is a real treat Steve. Nicely done. The most fun way to catch lakers for sure.

Exhausting to get through one of you fishing and reporting, let alone all. lol. Looks like a gem of a spot to plunk for pike made all the better in great company. Great stuff fellas.

I'm liking the sounds of this Joe. Great to hear you're getting away on a fly-in. You'll be addicted. Where are ya off to? Fishing for what? First Aid kit is something I'll always tell any gang with me I have covered... Anyways... other stuff. I like a headlamp, they're handy for the sundown BBQ's when getting in later after the evening walleye bite. So, a string or stringer too. If you don't smoke, take a lighter anyways for your buddies who do. I take neoprene socks instead of rubber boots and wear them in Crocs, way lighter than packing the boots. Long Johns no matter what season it is. I take a urinal when camping now too because leaving the tent in the night is a pain. If you're in a cabin ya might want to talk to the roommates about that first. An extra hat, cause bull happens. Scotch. Deck of cards. Extra spools of line. Gravol and pain medicine. Earplugs. Those are a few things you may or may not have thought about. Good luck dood! We all want a full report and, if I miss it because I'm away, you'll have to PM the link.

All those lakes that way are Brule-tal !!! lol. Good luck John. Skitters are out in full force that way.

Any better musky anglers than myself, whom have shared time on the water, if trolling, are "two-hand drag" guys. They're also hook-sharpening freaks. The reason is because that's what works best most, but, nothing you do will be 100%, all of it needs to be considered and adaptable to any and all variables, and end of the day what will put more fish in the boat IMO is experience, confidence and knowledge. You lost some fish this time, you'll only learn from that and do better next time.

Conservatives have all but burned any science and banished Scientists... Of course it's all left to nonsense now. lol.

It can be medicine, sure! Curious if anyone knows how much of this medicine,(wondering percentages) is covered by OHIP? Otherwise, who's paying for it? Taxpayer or solely the patient?

$4.18 US per pack of two of the 7 inchers, plus tax, duty, shipping. Anywhere cheaper Dave that you know of? You could buy these at the lodge 5 for $12 it was.

Tank Goby! Dead...

Yes... a 70 walleye a day lake ain't too hard to take. Great time with Pops and a meal could only be the outcome of that.

Today on Global National. In Newmarket Ontario a crowd assembled in the downtown core to gaze in wonder at the amazement of one ferocious black bear napping in an actual tree. Scared for their lives several bystanders called the Ministry of Natural Resources, all simultaneously receiving the same voice mail prompting them to call sometime back into the 1980's when they still did exist. Frustrated they Instagrammed and Facebook'ed selfies of themselves (duh) with the bear in the background and, later that day we learned the same black bear wasn't only in Newmarket at that time, but, it had been seen all across Canada. Most accurate source of info locating the furry carnivore reports that it was Ewout Blom of Holland that actually first sighted the bear. It was in fact eating a smaller bear somewhere around Turtle Lake before it wandered to Newmarket, climbed a tree, and entered into it's food coma after the meal. When Police arrived on scene, one clever constable thought that offering donuts to the bear might help coax it from the tree. Hoping it might feed on Boston Cremes and Honey Crullers, the meat would instantly sweeten before they could finally execute the bear. Meat would be given to the local Legion, all the old timers in Newmarket would be fed, the world would continue to turn. Unfortunately, the bear didn't want the donuts when it came down from the tree. Instead, spooked by all the bystanders, flashing lights and men with guns, it took off running towards a yellow car which it probably presumed was a honey bee on return to it's hive but was in fact a school bus. (if only Wynne had banned yellow cars a little sooner) Boarding the bus, kids screamed and cried as the bear entered into a frantic state, ripping limbs from Sally Jay, Tommy Chung and bus driver Moe. Escaping the emergency exit, last child out wisely closed the doors trapping the bear. Several hours later once the Military arrived, the bear was captured and transported to Newmarket Psychiatric Hospital. Charges will be laid against the bear, and there's rumor that Mother Nature may stand trial for it's role in the crimes committed today. Until that time, the bear is currently undergoing psychiatric evaluation, although pending that, it is expected the bear will plea not guilty to any charges. We will be following up as more news comes in.... Global National, the Moose.

It was a heavily guarded secret in Moosonee / Moose Factory. That patient had to sign an oath of secrecy... but plenty family and staff members sure threw patient confidentiality right out the window. lol.

Nice Tim! Great looking camp and trip to set off the season.

Watched bits and pieces at a time this morning and enjoyed what I saw. Hearst Air, Mel, Mike, George and the gang there are all great. For pike, Pym, Napken & Quantz would be their best 3 flyouts. Nice to see some of Quantz here. Man... the pike and eye fly-in reports are really starting to get me thinking. Agree with Mitch too, love August/September equal to May/June when it comes to fishing those species. Thanks for posting.

Dood actually presented to the hospital once for accidentally drinking antifreeze instead of his Pepsi. Grabbed the wrong can. Lucky for him the antidote is alcohol. By weight calculation every hour for 24 hours we had to give him a shot and a half of rum. He happily lived. Your truck will too Lew. Don't think I'd add it all at once though... just have it sip the fuel in moderation.

These 3 had me crying! Back to back... Awesome. Joey you little devil you! As for the muskie, Sneak_e_pete I missed that post. Often away or quite busy with work that time of year. Your fish is wicked bud, sorry to have missed it then, but I'll tell ya now. With guys like Pete Maina & Marc Thorpe on the membership here, I'd say one of them would run away with the OFC muskie crown here easy. For me, I do cherish a 56" from 2013. Real special fish, up there in the top 5 for sure. http://ontariofishingcommunity.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=71662

Don't have WFN but did just see it here. Right on Clive! The best to ya bud.

Closing bass for ice season is kinda ridiculous dontchyas think? Being that "ALL" fish under the ice are prone to certain winter habits which can be predicted, fish of many kinds will be caught and some will be kept. Protecting a more plentiful fish such as bass while most other species (some less plentiful) remain open just goes to show how bass ackwards we have it in our thinking. What makes them so special anyways? lol Smallies do rock tho!