A Landing Net's Life

My dad turned 83 years old yesterday and just to make the younger world feel diminished, I dragged him all the way down the Wood Lake portage and forced him to catch fish on Wood Lake for the day. The portage is 210 rods long or .58 miles long and it was muddy and rugged after yesterday’s heavy rains which is par for the course on portages. For an old guy with a fake knee and a double bypass some 15 years ago, he does pretty well. Of course, I brought along my sidekick Delilah.

Once we hit the trail, she began her Wood Lake portage routine of blasting ahead at full speed, turning off the trail into the woods and running parallel back along the trail only to come out behind me. From that point, she snorts past me again, tongue flopping and nothing but a blurry streak of fur to do it repeatedly for the entire trail. I figure that she runs about three times the length of the trail every time we walk it. In the back of my mind, I’m waiting for the moment she drives out a momma bear and cubs to meet me, but that hasn’t occurred….yet.

As I walked the trail carrying my oars, our rods and my pack, I noted the fresh tracks in the mud – two people ahead of me. As a boy, I was trained to not leave tracks – not in the figurative sense connected to symbolically saving the BWCA, but instead, for real. Hunting and trapping as a kid, we never wanted to be followed and the best way to avoid followers is to never leave tracks as best we could and we still do this to this day. As a result, I observe this telltale “flaw” in others all the time and today’s tracks in front of me were no different. I could tell both were men, in their late 30’s to early 40’s, weighing about 185 lbs. each. They wore big floppy hats, mosquito head nets, blue, white and black, paddling gloves, and brand new long sleeve, nylon button-down shirts with brand new nylon, zip off pants. 

As Delilah blasted silently down the portage, about 150 feet in front of me, up a hill and around a curve, I heard her let loose with the most ferocious, attack-dog bark her nine pound body could muster! First I thought ” bear” but that was immediately corrected. There was a scream and panic as a voice-in-terror yelled, “Gggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! GET OUTTA HERE! GO AWAY!!!! ” as Delilah stopped them in their tracks. I tried to call her off, but she was unrelenting, so I picked up my pace to see two guys decked out in nylon shirts, zip-off pants, trail boots, blue-white-black paddling gloves, big hats and bug nets. Delilah finally shut up as her job was done attacking the space aliens. I chuckled and said when they passed, “I bet that scared the crap out of you!” to which one replied “Maybe a little…” Delilah looked back at me all proud and alert for taking down the “aliens” with a good, solid whoopin’. Then, she blasted down the portage once again. 

When we hit the water, we endured a beautiful day with moderate catching but enough to keep up busy all day long.   In a pretty true test, we found that live bait and artificial lures ended up producing about “neck and neck” . There was no real, obvious gain in using live bait over lures. Later in the day, the wind picked up and screamed from the west making for about 1.5 hours of tough rowing with a significant chop and some whitecaps.  I put together this video called “A Landing Net’s Life” since the I had the camera stuck to the net. 

Upon returning to the parking because not much wears Delilah out, she took off and chased a 70 foot long semi roaring past on the Fernberg Road. The present road crew tried to catch her but she blew past them, returning to me and prompting a parking lot visit by a concerned, but laughing foreman looking for “a little brown dog that was chasing one of their semi’s down the new asphalt.” Delilah stood up on the truck seat and smiled at him. 

Good dog, Delilah. Never give up.

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Class Reunion and Lightning Strikes

Yesterday, on Saturday, July 5th, Annette went down to watch the store Red Rock and Northwind Lodge to assist with lodge check-ins and store customers while I sneaked away to Ely to attend my 35th class reunion at the Boat House on Sheridan St.

Ordinarily, I don't like to leave the business ever because whenever I do, all heck breaks loose.  It had been storming with some lightning and while the power was on, the phone and internet were dead.  I took my smart phone and stuffed the fat thing in my pocket and reluctantly got in the truck and drove to town.

The reunion was fun.  Meeting old classmates and friends and some of my cousins made for an enjoyable evening.  Many bulls were shot and the world's problems were addressed.   While talking loudly and straining to hear each other,  a waitress with a cordless phone approached our table and asked one of my mates for a particular person and every arm on the table pointed to me.  Of course...I am not allowed to leave the resort and it was making itself be known as it called me back with a smirk.

I had to step outside and recall Annette on her cell phone.  She had to drive to almost Fall lake, 9 miles away to get cell reception.  She tried calling me numerous times on my cell, but because I am a Luddite where a smart phone (really a dumb phone) is concerned.   I could neither feel a vibration nor hear the ring tone I picked for that modern wonder that has brain-dead children everywhere addicted to thumb typing.  Anyway, I headed outside and re-called her to find that there was a lightning strike and some strange goings on with the electrical power in several cabins.  So, leave the fun and race back home I did.  It's no longer a surprise but like a self-fulfilling prophecy, something that I just expect.  Fortunately, there were no deer popping out of the ridiculously neglected, Lake County grass and weeds,  forcing my hand at Fernberg Whack-A-Mole with the truck.  I marveled at how the country seat in Two Harbors is manicured by county highway staff and the our region in the northern part of the county which contributes almost 40% of the taxes can't even get four foot high weeds cut on the edge of the road before mid to late July.   One thinks of all sorts of things while speeding into the night with a strange-sounding problem crawling around on the ladders of one's mind.

When I arrived at the resort, I talked to Annette and she had no new information, so I went downstairs for a diagnostic meter and headed out to the rest of the resort.  On the way, I stopped in the store to pick up a can of wasp spray because along with the lights out in about half of Cabin 8, there was a significant hornet nest  very near the door.  When I got there, I met with the cabin guests and they pointed out the nest.  I proceeded to super-soak it with the spray.  Yep - it was full of those rotten black wasps and I gave them a bath while dancing around as they fell out and slowly zoomed my way in a daze.   With that I went into the back room where the electrical panels are and inspected all the fuses with a flashlight.  All fuses appeared intact.  No visible signs of burning or the smell of roasted metal under lightning.  There was also no heat.  The box was cool temperature-wise.  Nonetheless, there were no lights in part of the cabin where the lights had been and I cannot figure out what is going on.  I was glad that I opted to not drink a second beer that one of my classmates offered me at the bar.  As a rule, I prefer to be completely focused whenever working with electricity.  It only takes one screw up to make for a really bad evening.

I can't figure it out.  Fuses are intact, lights are gone.  Maybe the lightning strike burned off a wire without taking out a 15 amp fuse.  I couldn't see how, but weird stuff happens with lightning.  I told the party that I need to come back in the daylight and take a closer look tomorrow.  They are fine with that and have a flashlight for the dark bathroom.  Before I can get out the door, the group leader, Lindsey Shaner insists I take at least two freshly baked molasses cookies that apparently his wife made for him and the group.  I did and ate them on the way to Cabin 5 where the story of electrical weirdness at Northwind Lodge was a continuing saga.  The cookies were really quite good!  I wanted another one but the scope of the  mission didn't allow it.

At Cabin 5, the Murphies explained what happened,  Big thunder, the lights went almost dark and the refrigerator got loud and didn't sound right.   I tested the power which was now looking just fine and the fridge was sounding normal.  Power hit a perfect 120 volts on my meter.  I inspected the electrical panel and felt for hot circuit breakers and smelled for burning bake-lite.  Nothing unusual, nothing tripped.   I said goodnight to the Murphy's and headed home on foot in the dark, perplexed and a bit irritated that I had to leave the reunion and still couldn't really solve the problem in Cabin #8.

The next morning, the Shaner party headed out to Wood Lake. They fish there every day of the week during their stay here at Northwind Lodge.  I met up with Pete Edwards, another longtime guest at our lodge and he told me the same story.  IN Cabin #7, the lights went dark and the fridge made a lot of noise as it was drawing a lot of amps in the suddenly low voltage of what appeared to be brown-out as opposed to the more expected surge from a lightning strike.  Pete volunteered to come with me and turn lights on and off to check circuits. I also scrounged around and luckily found the right sized batteries for my multi-meter that I would need to test resistance in cartridge fuses in Cabin 8.  We go there and I tested all the cartridge fuses and re-inspected the the round fuses one more time.  According to my meter, none of the fuses were fried.  We go into the bathroom and look at those dang lights.  Then it dawned on me.  

I went to the hallway and located an old-fashioned light bulb, unscrewed the compact fluorescent light in the bathroom ceiling and replaced it with the real light bulb.  Flipped the switch and lo-and-behold, the light lit up like a mini sun.  That was it!  The common denominator was there in front of us.  Four CFL's died in the brownout.  They don't do well  in less than perfect conditions and it was imperfect at best, last night.  In talking with my dad, he said that it sounded like the lighting hit really close to his house and in the vicinity of the transformer that powers the bulk of the resort.   I still can't figure how we had a brownout in a lightning strike, but that is what appears to have happened.  I suspect that the event may have shortened the lifespans of several cabin refrigerators as well.  Only time will tell. Dang....

I need to make a mental note to add "checking common denominators" to my list of how to determine what goes wrong when it does.  Fortunately, the problem was resolved rather easily and vacationing continues at Northwind Lodge.

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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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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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