Windy Day on Wood Lake

Here is recent blog post in our Red Rock Outdoors Blog about a recent trip to Wood Lake with friend and Northwind Lodge guest Paul Edwards.  Lots of wind, one really nice walleye with the JVC Adixxion II camera worked both above and underwater.  Yes, it is definitely waterproof and dries off very rapidly.  Between the driving rain and dunking,  "waterproof and rugged" is a good thing in little action cameras.  

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Have Faith - Unwind - Pay Your Dues - Catch Fish

For as long as I can remember, people have come here to fish.  Most usually stay a week.   Upon arrival, some of them get all upset after driving for 12 hours.  They run down to the lake bleary-eyed, jump in a boat and beat the water to a froth expecting all manner of fish to come hurling themselves over the gunwales of the boat.  Over the years, a few of them have had the unbelievable fortune of succeeding, but the reality of the fact remains that fish seldom do this anywhere, especially for somebody new to any particular lake.   That fact doesn't offer solace to some as they walk around with a deflated pout because their 347 days of exponentially multiplying expectations didn't present itself in immediate gratification via a boatload of fish.

However, as the week rolls forward, they usually catch a few here and there.  Enough to pique their interest so that progress gets them on the water, helping them refine their technique and dial it in for this lake.  Also remember that just because the fish bite purple green Spiffy-diffy's on Lake Pacodumptruck in Wisconsin is not a guarantee that they will do the same here.  The best thing one can do at Northwind Lodge is come over to the store and see what they've been biting on in Jasper or the region.  Bring along your tackle box and we can narrow down and separate the lures that work here from the lures that make our fish giggle and say "Seriously?!"

One of the most fascinating phenomenon I've seen here occurs the last three days of almost everybody's fishing on Jasper.  For as far back as I can remember, it seems that our new guests take about the three total days to figure out the "feel" of the lake.  Then the last three days, they run into fish.  It is not always, but it is "often" that the biggest, and the most fish are caught in the last three days of a guest's stay.   It begins Wednesday and goes through Friday.   I'd say that it is a combination of commitment, determination and good vibes.  Maybe they are sending out good vibrations and the fish are finally attracted to it.  That may or may not be so crazy sounding as I swear I know people who are "fish-magnets".  I think fish are drawn to them based on their vibes or magnetic field.  Those are the people who can tie a stick of chewing gum on their line with no hook and land a walleye.   I've been in the boat with those types of people and to test the theory I will tie on the same piece of gum, fish one foot from their line, and watch them catch everything while I stare in amazement.

Fortunately, I don't really care that much for myself; but prefer that somebody from my group is catching something.  I always figure my day will come and it has, many many times, but not yet enough for me to want hang up fishing.   Fishing is really Mother Nature's big outdoor casino.  You cast your line and see what you win. The difference from a real casino is that if you tied your knot properly, you usually get your lure back and cast it again.   A real casino just takes your lure and gives it to somebody else.    Despite having done this for all of my life, I still think "today is the day" at the beginning of each day that I get out on the water and cast my line.  You never know what you are going to get for certain.

So, I understand why it is that many of our guests charge out onto the water in a sleep-deprived and sometimes, ornery, state of mind.  They've waited a whole year for this and "Today is THE day!"  But just remember:  usually, the first three days stinks "catch-wise" and the last three days greatly improves.  One develops a feel for the lake at some subconscious level.   That isn't always the case, but I've personally witnessed it more often than not.  That is also why coming up to stay for two or three nights usually won't cut it.  You just start unwinding and you have to head back home.  Uggghh...   Northern Minnesota vacations for three days and two nights are a great way to run around and be more tired than when one arrived.  Just a thought from a seasoned Minnesota resort operator.

The Normans - Wood Lake Catch - Northwind Lodge Dock - June 2014

(this whole family is a collective fish magnet)

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Another Day on Wood Lake

It was a spectacular day weather-wise and instead of cutting firewood, finishing up a siding job, working on the website which isn't working quite right, designing an ad layout in Photoshop, fixing some known areas that need some repair, cutting firewood and stacking firewood, I decided that I wanted to go fishing on Wood Lake again.  I wanted to take advantage of the nice day and my dad agreed to come along with me and Delilah.  We were going in search of those big perch we found last week. They were bugging me.

So, pack up and head out we did.    My pack is a Kondos day-type pack and absolutely the perfect size pack for this kind of stuff.  I use it all year long and it goes everywhere with me from riding in the cargo sled behind my Skidoo to sitting in the bow of  our Wood Lake boats.  It's been in -30 below to 90 above and covered in frozen slush and summer rain.  My dad has the same pack and he loves his, as well.  For the price, nobody wanted to buy them when they were on the shelf in Red Rock.  Customers deemed them not to be "fancy" enough for the price when for $29 you could buy a cheap, multipocketed, multi-colored, book-style pack made in China. 

Our Kondos Outdoors packs made by Dan & Vicki Kondos of Ely are bigger and far more useful than a number 2 Duluth pack and very comfortable to carry.  They have a snorkel top with a draw-cord and a cord lock.   You can overstuff them and still get the main flap over the top if needed.  I've discovered a new use for them as well.

The portage today was really bug-laden and Delilah got really chewed upon yesterday, particularly her belly.  She's a tough little dog, but those bugs really made a mess out of that soft puppy skin.   In order to not make the little dog sick or devoid of more puppy blood, I stuffed her in my Kondos packsack.  I pulled the drawstring closed around her neck and put the pack on my back, with her cute little dog head sticking out and looking over my shoulder as to where we were going.  No bugs were going to chew her up on this trip.  Once settled in the pack, Delilah seemed to think it was an acceptable way to travel and nary a peep did she make.

I trotted down to the boats and bailed one out while my dad negotiated the trail in his 82nd year.  Of course there was approximately one million gallons of water in the boat.  I found it amazing how boats are like insulation in your house.  If it's working properly, it keeps stuff in or out without discretion.  A boat that won't hold water won't float, either. I'm sure there is a paradox in here somewhere, but this boat floats really, really well.

My dad arrives just as I'm floating the bailed boat and getting organized.  We pile in and head out to where those those jumbo perch were last week.  This time, being armed with Ugly Ducklings and ultra-fine finesse steel leaders, I figured they wouldn't have much of a chance.  

Upon arrival, and dropping our lines in with Ugly Ducklings and about twenty feet of trolling, my dad caught the first jumbo perch.  A few more landed in the boat and the northerns were in there marauding as well.  That's fine because we both like them and my wife Annette also likes northerns.  So, less perch, more northerns, made no difference.  Fresh fish from our cold water in northern Minnesota is all good.  

While cruising around the lake a fast as trolling about 1.5 miles per hour will take us with oars, a walleye, a nice smallmouth bass, and more northerns joined the stringer.  Despite the beautiful day with white clouds in the azure blue sky I had to aim the bow back for obligations waiting at Red Rock and Northwind Lodge.  Of course, apprised of our homeward intentions, the wind has to pick up from the south and make its presence be known to the guy dunking the oars.  Nonetheless, despite the wind poking me with a proverbial stick, we cranked  up our lines and I thumb my nose into the wind's midsection and pick up the pace of that boat.

Upon the final turn round a point, a canoe approaches, heading out into the main part of the lake.  The paddling men greet us with a friendly "How's it going?"  We said something about it being "fine", "nice day" and other pleasantries of  paddling on a wonderful day in the boundary waters.  Then, I noticed that something was not quite right with that canoe and it's paddling duo.  Their canoe was an older Wenonah Champlain and they were moving at a fair pace with bentshaft paddles that have been used for a number of years. They were still in good condition, but showing wear and tear brought on by years of use and landing on rocks and rugged terrain.  They were both Bending Branches paddles - BB Specials, 14 degree bentshafts. 

I yelled after them, "Hey, guys!  You are both holding your bentshafts backwards.  You are in effect 'shoveling' water and not pushing it." 

"Really?" they asked.

I said "Yup" and they turned their paddles to the correct position.  We chuckled, but in fairness, I did the same thing the first time I picked up a bentshaft paddle 25 years ago. It just looks like you should be using it that way until you analyze it.  Not everybody analyzes what they do, however.  Given the wear on those paddles, I was certain that these guys have been holding them backwards for a long time without even the slightest analysis.  But that wasn't the real surprise.  They flipped their paddles around and then I noticed the relatively "unbelieveable" part.  Their canoe was sitting strangely in the water as it moved by us. Holy buckets - now I'd seen everything!

"Hey, guys!  One more thing." I yelled into the crosswind.  "You are paddling the canoe backwards!"

"SERIOUSLY?!!!" , replied the truly surprised bow paddler from his cramped position sitting backwards in the stern seat.  It HAD to be ridiculously narrow for his knees.

"Yup!" I replied.  "You need to both turn around and paddle it forwards with the bow up front or you are gonna drown if it gets rough out."

By now, our opposite-traveling distance (and our amazed giggling) didn't allow for any more water-borne conversation with the backasswards canoe paddlers.  It really looked weird that the bow of that canoe would be about 10 inches high with the bow paddler seated right up to it and the stern would be about 22" high and a solid six feet behind the stern paddler.  It looked really strange because it really was strange.  As I continued to increase the distance between us, I watched that canoe move in zig-zags and confused circles as if they no longer knew what to do with themselves in that canoe on the water.  They ended up paddling in all directions of the compass and finally faded from view around the point.   It was like they lost all control in realizing that literally every move they made in the past 15 minutes has been completely backwards.  All they needed to do was pull up along the shore, get out and re-sit in the seats the correct direction.  Instead, they literally spun out of control like a robot with a blown directional servo-thingy.  We both marveled at how it is that there are not more deaths in the Boundary Waters.  But our day was not yet done with the portage still to cross.

We got to shore, locked up the boat and observed a HUGE pile of camping paraphernalia next to the water sitting on the ground.   It was the multicolored extravaganza of  city folk going on a camping trip.  There were big folding chairs with cupholders, a screen tent, overstuffed packs, fishing equipment, a big propane camp stove, and assorted other heavy gear that some enthusiast carried for 210 rods (a rod is 16.5 feet in length) over rocks, and mud, and through swarms of mosquitos. 

I get Delilah into the pack and this time Dad is going to carry her because I have the fish in my pack.  As he takes off with the dog, he runs into two women who are dressed from head to toe in screened bug suits. They looked like space aliens.  One lady had stuffed into her wearable screen tent, a bright yellow and white neck cushion - the kind you see people using on an airliner to sleep - a can of bug dope, a fanny pack and a bunch of  other stuff that made her suit billow out like she had a few extra pounds on her.  The other woman was stuffed similarly.  When both saw Delilah with her cute little head sticking out of the pack, the woods came alive with adorable-ness and female words of admiration.  If we weren't both happily married for many years, that dog in a packsack could have been the perfect "chick magnet". 

Continuing on up the portage,  I pull ahead of my dad to get to the truck to unload so I can double back and grab his pack.   Once I unload my oars and pack, back down the portage I go to grab the pack with the dog in it.  Then I head back to the truck and wait for Dad who's taking a slower pace.

At the truck, I unpack Delilah and put her on a leash.  Another truck pulls up with a stubby little tandem canoe and two guys hop out.  One wants to know if it's busy on Wood lake.  I say "yeah" because I just passed the screened-in women with their boxcar load of gear, the guy from their group who was hauling in the canoe, the two guys paddling their canoe backwards on the water while holding their paddles backwards, the four guys we saw on the point where we caught the perch, the canoes in the distance,  and the camp with someone making sun tea on the northern site.  So, yeah - it was busy.

The shorter guy groaned at the prospect of others being on the lake.  I noticed he was dressed "Disneyland Style" for going into the bug-laden woods and I commented that he appeared "ready-to-go" with his bug-screen pantaloons on over his short pants.  He hesitantly replied that he'd "heard that it was buggy on the trail".  I said , "Oh", thinking to myself that if one would only wear regular long pants instead of shorts, none of this "wearing bug-screen-harem-pants like MC Hammer" would be necessary.  I mentioned that the two women on the portage were all dressed up just like that as well.   As, I said that, the mosquitos were swarming in the grass in which we stood, but upon hearing that he was dressed "like the women ahead of him", he quickly removed his screened-in pants, wadded them up and stuffed them somewhere.  At that point, no less than 5,000 mosquitoes charged up those Disneyland shorts and made him twitch a little - well, maybe a lot.  He sure as heck wasn't going to show it however.  "Real men don't wear bug screen pants"  was the message I got out of this.  The laughter inside me wanted to come out SO badly, but I repressed it gallantly.  I think I may have pulled something.

OK, YES - I was messing with him.  And it worked really well - for me.  Anyway, my dad arrived, we said goodbye and good luck to the two new guys and back to Northwind Lodge we went.  Delilah, as per her usual self, enjoyed the ride all day long.  Another day on Wood Lake has passed.

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Row, Row, Row Your Boat at Wood Lake and Northwind Lodge

Back when I was a lot younger, all of our resort guests were here to fish.  Well, sure, there were some of them who didn't fish, but fishing was the focus and they fished a lot.   Not only did they spend a lot of time on Jasper Lake, they spent at least one day on Wood Lake as well.  Our Wood Lake boats were constantly rented out, rain or shine.  We all grew up on Wood Lake when motors were allowed and all the following years after President Carter signed the rider called Rare II which was slipped into the BWCA law taking motor use on Wood Lake and a few other waters away from us and our guests.  That move alone instantly took away a large chunk of our wood lake rental business along with our old-school customers who believed that rowing a boat was impossible and fishing from a canoes was too scary/uncomfortable of an endeavor to pursue.  So, faced with yet another federal law wiping out a good portion of our business we concluded a few things.   We knew who one of the major driving forces behind RARE II was since his family lived summers on Jasper Lake.  Since this was a last-minute "rider" signed into the actual BWCA Law PL 95-495 by Carter introduced by the guy who knew us and what closing Wood Lake would do to our business, we still suspect that this was a deliberate attempt to harm our business.  Why else would he push such a specific lake that was not part of the original bill?   Either he was out do us harm, or he's so oblivious and far-gone in his ideology, he had no clue as to what forcing this issue would do to us.  Who knows?

The main takeaway of this whole saga is that we managed to survive despite our losing a large number of lodge guests who no longer could accept the changes forced upon them by this man and his so-called environmental organization "for the good of the country".  In 1978, we began rowing Wood Lake boats and found that we would now go farther and catch more fish than we did before while using outboards.  With an outboard motor, we were always beholden to the amount of gasoline we could carry on the portage.  Plus there was always the threat of a motor breaking down or malfunctioning.  That problem evaporated with oars.  Without using a motor, as fishing guides, my brother and I learned how to fish a spot more thoroughly.  Instead of picking up one or two fish like walleyes and moving on, we would work the region harder to get more bang for our rowing buck.

The most difficult part today is getting people to understand that when rowing, one takes his time, fishes while moving and before you know it, you are a long ways from the beginning.  The other critical part of rowing the most do not understand is that dunking the oar blades deep in the water actually slows you down with each stroke.   You want to dunk in half the blade and break some of the water surface with each stroke. That requires less strength, allows for more repetition and supports forward momentum.  By the time you finish a deep oar stroke, your boat's forward momentum conks out.  

Also rowing "over there" and not fishing while you are heading there, is inefficient and a complete waste of potentially good water and calories.  You fish along the way, and if you find a fish before you get to a "hot spot", well, screw that spot!  Fish here!  With a motor on a boat, you most likely would never have tried that place nor would you have ever discovered what was there.  You would be too busy going fast over there to "the spot".

So, whether or not it was a deliberate attack upon Northwind Lodge to add Wood Lake to the BWCA with the sneaky, subversive, last-minute rider inserted into a 1978 bill in Congress, it backfired.  Yes, it did really hurt our business forcing us to adapt and change our technique and operation plus find new customers who were unafraid of fishing with a motor.  As a result however, we can really row a boat and have become very adept at handling a fishing rod with no hands and quick reflexes.  We ended up applying these abilities to guiding for many years on the Canadian side of Basswood.   We've all rowed a million miles and are perhaps in better shape than many people our age.  We also know from experience that there is no reason not to take a day trip to Wood Lake when you come up to Northwind Lodge.  If you can walk uphill/downhill, sit in a boat, move your arms for eight hours or so, and are comfortable with taking your time on the water, you'll do fine and have a great day. 

Here is what rowing looks like from a point-of-view perspective.  This alternating technique is how you want to make the boat travel for trolling and a steady trolling pace like this will make your arms looked a bit ripped when you get home that evening.  Developing your "cat-like" reflexes is also a plus.

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Finally Gone Fishing with Delilah plus Video Footage

We each packed our packs and loaded up my dad's rusty old truck and headed off to Wood Lake for a day for wilderness fishing.  I hadn't really been on the water yet in any meaningful way and today was going to be a fishing trip / dog test.  I decided to take a chance on messing up what looked to be a perfectly beautiful day by taking Delilah along and having her in the boat for the whole day.  Over the years, we didn't usually bring a dog.  Some go crazy in the boat trying to bite fish and stepping in tackle boxes, others are scared of the water or being far from shore.  There was some risk in taking this little dog, but my dad was on board with the idea, so we decided to give it a try.

At the Wood Lake parking lot, I put a leash on Delilah, put on my pack with an overkill amount of fishing tackle, inflatable PFD, raincoat, beverages, and other sundry items I always have with me when out in the woods. Things like firestarters, matches, a lighter, toilet tissue, plastic bags for fish, an anchor rope with a replacement landing net on one end for my anchor should we need to stop, and two small boat cushions.  I never go without those cushions. You can get a serious case of  "boat butt" from sitting on those hard aluminum seats and without cushions. As a result, you end up MacGuyvering stuff out of available resources.  It's just better to bring along cushions.

I picked up my eight foot guiding oars and small landing net and headed down the trail.  May dad followed up with the rods and his pack.  His pack is the most important as it has the lunch in it.  It's a really long day with no lunch.

Down the trail D and me go, with her out in front matching my pace nicely. We make it all the way to the boats with no issues and it helps that this was not Delilah's first rodeo on the Wood Lake portage.  We were just here a week ago on a possible search/rescue that turned out to be nothing (a good nothing).  

The boats were filled with water from the big rain dump the two nights previous.  I bailed them while I waited for Dad to catch up.  Got everything ready and when he arrived shortly and we loaded up the boat and headed down the river to the main part of the lake.  In the water along the way, we were looking at the lilly pads below the surface.  They all stood at attention waiting to rise up and great the air but they had a ways to go.  Most were under at least six inches of water.   There were very few of them who'd made it to their summer resting places laying on the water in a large green mosaic to tangle with oars and canoe paddles and to feed the moose.  The vast open water made for faster rowing without the pads trying their best to slow us down and enjoy the day by their rules.

Delilah found her spot on the seat in between the motor (me) and Dad in the back of the boat.  So far, so very good.  The little dog was as calm as the day is long enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of new muskeg as everything prepared to grow into the summer season.  You could smell the fresh smells of new grass and tree buds and tamaracks. There was the clean smell of the wind as it travels through a filter of ten thousand trees only to cross the water and greet the trees on the other side.  Delilah was taking it all in like a new day in a puppy's world, sniffing the air, briefly analyzing, learning and getting her ducks in a row for the years to come leading in the role of an adult. 

We finally made it out to the first island and set up to troll through that familiar spot.  Sometimes, the fishing there can be so good that no further traveling is required.  Today, with the slow southeast wind, it was an inactive spot with nobody home.  Or, if they were home, they weren't answering the door like people who ran out of candy on Halloween night.  An easterly wind will do that almost every time.

We continued onward, noticing how slow the fishing was going with some near "hits" by northerns missing our lures at the last second and startling the "bejeezus" out of us.   You never seem to expect that high-speed attack/miss/swirl by the freshwater sharks in northern Minnesota.   Some were small, some were nice sized, all were fast as greased lightning.  When we finally boated a fish, Delilah would do the unthinkable.  This eight-and-and-half-month-old puppy has the wherewithal to back out of the way and observe no matter how much flopping around occurred.  She neither barked nor cowered but instead simply watched calmly.  When the fish went back in the lake or on the stringer, she looked over the side briefly and then went back to doing her thing.  That has never been my experience with a dog in the boat before.  We were both surprised and impressed.

Well, we put distance behind us as I pumped aluminum and picked up scattered fish here and there.  At one point, my dad hooked what appeared to be a hefty walleye.  It wouldn't come up and had a lot of determination to not come into the boat.  Those are always fun.  Here's the video of that :

Yes, I accidentally shut off the camera right when it was getting good.

Here's the rest of the event:

It ended up a really good day on Wood Lake,  We got some walleyes and some really nice perch.

And, here we're breaking for lunch with Delilah:

Late in the day, the wind changed to a south wind and the fishing kicked into much higher gear as we were on our way out.



It was a good day on Wood Lake.  More videos to come.

On the return, it was something to note that a zillion lily pads, only eight hours later, were now  resting flat on top of the water instead of below.  They grew like crazy in just one day and were their juvenile red color instead of their more mature green color to come in the ensuing days of summer.  I have a feeling the brush is going to be very, very bushy this season. 

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