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Showing posts with label northwind lodge guests. Show all posts
Showing posts with label northwind lodge guests. Show all posts
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Windy Day on Wood Lake
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Northern Minnesota Through Our Guest's Eyes - All the way from North Carolina
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| Jasper Lake to the east from Northwind Lodge dock |
Joe, Just wanted to thank you again for a truly excellent stay with you this week. It was the perfect mix of relaxation and activity. The kids loved the various water craft; we all had a great time taking regular paddles at all times off the day, from early morning through late evening, either just around the docks or further afield and it was perfect for Tracy and I (and sometimes Clare) to take the canoe, while Robert and Clare variously took the kayaks and paddle boards. Being able to rent a Kevlar canoe to allow us to do our day trip to Hegman (or more exactly to allow us to portage relatively easily in general!) was a great plus. I can see us next time bringing our friends and letting some base up at Northwinds while the more adventurous go out for a multiple day canoe trip. We all thoroughly enjoyed the fishing. We are definitely not hard core fishing people but, even in our 24 hr window, we spent many hours at all times of the day trying everything from pitting our wits against the bluegills and bass under the dock (Clare) and trolling for the big northerns (Robert). Robert will definitely be remembering his first 'big' fish! It was fantastic to be so close to the water so that we could go down and just enjoy the beautiful lake scene from the docks at any time. We quite often went down in the early morning (one morning to watch the beautiful early mist rising off the water as the sun was coming up), and always took a late evening trip down to watch the fish rising in the mirror smooth water and the last of the late evening light. The cabin was definitely great. Thanks for moving us and letting us have 4 - we loved it! So close to the docks. We would probably do fine in almost any of the cabins but on this particular trip the size was just perfect. We spent lots of good relaxing time inside in the living room reading and playing cards, as well as outside on the deck enjoying the sound of the creek and the loons. Loons! Absolutely fantastic! It has been a couple of years since we had been up and the calls of the resident loons really do epitomize the vast wild north. Nowhere else (that we have been!) can you see and hear loons calling like they do in northern Minnesota! Anyway, we wanted to thank you again for the great stay and to assure you that there are definitely those of us out there (even as far away as Raleigh, NC) who thoroughly appreciate being out on the edge of one of the most beautiful wilderness areas on the planet enjoying the quiet solitude and relaxing atmosphere that folks like you provide. We will no doubt be back, if not next year, then the year after or the year after that! Kind regards, Charles, Tracy, Clare and Robert.
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| Morning at Northwind Lodge |
Sunday, July 6, 2014
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.
Northwind Lodge Website
Red Rock Outdoors Blog
Red Rock Wilderness Store Website
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.
Northwind Lodge Website
Red Rock Outdoors Blog
Red Rock Wilderness Store Website
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Put in a Little Time on Jasper - Catch Some Nice Fish
The Norman family from southern Illinois are showing them how to do it again here at Northwind Lodge. Bob, Mary Sue and son Jake have been pulling out some beeyooteefull smallmouth up to 5 lbs. and largemouth up to 6 lbs. and one 5 lb. walleye so far. Northern pike have been hitting as well but nothing really huge has made its presence be known - yet. Bluegills are really active in the new, upcoming weedbeds of Jasper. Some of the best fishing for big bass has been in the shallows right in front of the river where Jasper Creek dumps into the lake. That happens to be next to our docks. Some of our guest have been pulling in really nice bass without even getting into a boat.
During this week the Normans are our only fishing group and they spent the day on Wood Lake yesterday with spectacular walleye and bass fishing. Big fish, little fish, fish who climb on rocks were hitting hard all day during the high pressure and overcast skies. It was like the perfect storm for fishing and they were biting all over the area. Having a retail store like Red Rock here lets us find out where, who, what, when, and why in fishing details for the region. Many people caught fish incorrectly believing that they only bit on leeches or worms. They were slamming artificials like crazy as well. So, you can go out and buy organic, live bait and lug it around with you, keeping it alive, or you can bring of box of undead lures and toss them over the side. When the fish are biting, you will catch the same amount of fish with either and the undead allow you to use them over and over while forgetting them in the sun. You come out ahead with the undead.
Salmo Hornets #3 in Rainbow Dace have been scoring big with walleyes and stream trout simply by trolling them on the bottom for walleyes with a rubber core sinker or 200 feet behind the boat for trout. Black and gold, F11 floating Rapalas are also getting attacked by walleyes and huge bass. Another great bass lure is the Yamamoto Senko, 5" worm rigged wacky style. (that means hooked in the middle for those of you who don't know all that tech jargon of the southern bass world). Just cast them out and let them sink to the bottom in bass country and walleyes will come in and gobble those up as well! Who knew!
So, if you like to fish, take a few days and come up to Northwind Lodge and hit the water. But remember, to do well, you need to put in the time. It's a pretty rare occasion where you can go out in one day, hit them hard and go home. So, in my opinion, planning an overnighter will be a waste of time and money. At least try to squeeze in three nights. Check out our online internet specials! You really need to get up north and get back to wilderness. Or do you like being surrounded by a sea of people? Click Here
During this week the Normans are our only fishing group and they spent the day on Wood Lake yesterday with spectacular walleye and bass fishing. Big fish, little fish, fish who climb on rocks were hitting hard all day during the high pressure and overcast skies. It was like the perfect storm for fishing and they were biting all over the area. Having a retail store like Red Rock here lets us find out where, who, what, when, and why in fishing details for the region. Many people caught fish incorrectly believing that they only bit on leeches or worms. They were slamming artificials like crazy as well. So, you can go out and buy organic, live bait and lug it around with you, keeping it alive, or you can bring of box of undead lures and toss them over the side. When the fish are biting, you will catch the same amount of fish with either and the undead allow you to use them over and over while forgetting them in the sun. You come out ahead with the undead.
Salmo Hornets #3 in Rainbow Dace have been scoring big with walleyes and stream trout simply by trolling them on the bottom for walleyes with a rubber core sinker or 200 feet behind the boat for trout. Black and gold, F11 floating Rapalas are also getting attacked by walleyes and huge bass. Another great bass lure is the Yamamoto Senko, 5" worm rigged wacky style. (that means hooked in the middle for those of you who don't know all that tech jargon of the southern bass world). Just cast them out and let them sink to the bottom in bass country and walleyes will come in and gobble those up as well! Who knew!
So, if you like to fish, take a few days and come up to Northwind Lodge and hit the water. But remember, to do well, you need to put in the time. It's a pretty rare occasion where you can go out in one day, hit them hard and go home. So, in my opinion, planning an overnighter will be a waste of time and money. At least try to squeeze in three nights. Check out our online internet specials! You really need to get up north and get back to wilderness. Or do you like being surrounded by a sea of people? Click Here
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Strangle the Sucker!
I never have a boring day at Northwind Lodge. Sometimes, I wish I did.
Today, at 1 PM a sales rep came in to show us a line of hunting clothing for the store part of Northwind Lodge which is Red Rock. Red Rock Wilderness Store to be exact. He's an older gentleman whom I've known for quite a few years and he was outside for a bit getting a rolling clothing rack ready with the product line to display. I helped him wrestle it over the threshold of the store door and got behind the counter with Jackie as the show was set to go. This particular line is of clothing is cheap in price only. The actual clothing itself is some of the best we've ever seen in quality. It is simple, beautifully made, generously cut, very warm and just a great all around line that would easily go head to head with any line offered by any well-known big box retailer. So, we like it. One can actually own an affordable product that is made well. As a result, we always look forward to meeting this rep from Wildfowler.
Earlier in the day, one of our cabin guests came into the store to buy some new Rapala X Raps. He'd been casting off of the dock at the beach on Jasper and brought in a nice large mouth bass. He also missed several other fish until he finally gave the lure up to the lake. Apparently it was tribute for the nice bass. He came to buy a few more and then disappeared back down to the beach to see if there were more nice bass waiting for a chance to attack an X Rap.
About a third of the way in to the sales rep's presentation which was very casual as we like them that way ourselves, our guest and his friend came back in the store. I stopped looking at the rep and asked our guests if we could help them. The one guy said, "No, no. Looks like you are busy with this guy, we can come back later."
I said, "No, we're fine. What can I get you?"
"Well", he said. "Can you help me with this?" he queried as he held up his hand with the brand new Rapala X Rap in his palm.
At first I was going to ask what is wrong with the lure, but then I saw the blood on his middle finger. He had one of those razor sharp, brand spanking new, treble hooks jammed in past the barb in his middle finger. The rep looked at it and said, "Whoa!" and the guy with the hook in his finger reiterated, "But, really....you folks ought to finish up here!" To the that rep said, "Don't worry about me. You gotta get that fixed!", and we concurred.
I looked at it and said, "Yeah, I can get that out." We'll just pop it out with a string and a stick and the rep chimed in, "Yeah....you won't even feel it. I've had it done before."
I asked to take a closer look and he presented his hand over to me. At that point, it passed right in front of Jackie who was standing next to me and she looked at the blood and rather urgently said, "Ooo, oooo... I, I gotta go to the back room." I thought she was going to knock me over as she made her distance and disdain be known. Jackie turns green at the first sign of blood, regardless of ownership. I laughed because I already knew that.
I looked at the hook on that shiny, brand new X Rap and said that I'd go and get some snippers and we'll pull the points off the other two hooks of the treble and remove it from the lure body. It was then that I noticed that there was a pair of sucker lips stuck on the rear hook. He caught himself a bugle-mouth trout! The suckers are spawning in Jasper Creek and that is what hit the X Rap. He said it fought like crazy, pulling line out of his reel making the drag sing. But, then when he finally got the sucker up on the dock, he was trying to be nice to it by freeing it from the treble hook to let it go. Well, the sucker, being a rather obnoxious, rough breed of fish, decided that he wasn't going back into the lake without a fight. He flopped around magnificently, until he ultimately hooked this unsuspecting angler with the other end of a two-hook lure. At that point, being nice to the fish took far less priority as the shooting pains from his middle finger to his neck told him he should now "strangle the sucker". Anything to make that lousy fish stop jumping around on the dock.
I'm not entirely sure as to what transpired exactly, but there were sucker eggs smeared all over the front of the guy's shirt and a well-defined set of sucker lips still stuck to the back hook of the X Rap. That would indicate to me that the sucker didn't fair too well in the end. But, who knows?
I ran up to my basement which after numerous years is looking more like a film clip from the show "Hoarders" and went directly to the spot where I had my bike spoke cutters from my past life as a bike mechanic. Like any organized mess, they were right there, proudly waiting for this moment. Then, I went back to the store, snipped about twenty inches of 60 pound test monofilament off a spool and grabbed a screwdriver. I had the guy go out on the deck and he was stammering, "Wait, now...wha...what are we doing?"
While I was working on his hand as he laid it on the railing, I replied, "First, we're gonna snip that split ring and remove the lure so we don't get that other hook back in us by accident. Then, we snip all the points off the hook that aren't stuck in you." I moved carefully and tried to not jiggle the hook as I lopped off parts of the forge-hardened steel with my spoke cutters (spoke cutters really work great, incidentally) until I was down to the stem and buried point. "Then, we take this line and put it around the hook, right next to the skin. We wrap the two ends of the line around the screwdriver handle for a grip. I'm now going to tip the hook forward and yank on 'three' and it should pop right out. "
His buddy said that he should have had a drink prior to this event to which he confirmed that he had just downed a beer. "That beer should kick in about half an hour after we're finished here. Lot good that's gonna do", I said.
He shuts his eyes. I grip his finger and hold it down to the deck railing and carefully tip the hook forward with one of my free fingers. He closes his eyes. I think his buddy was giggling. "One, two, THREE!" and I give it a yank. It popped out as smooth as butter with barely the slightest hint of resistance. I go "All right!" as I see the hook is tangled in the line attached to my screwdriver. I look up and his eyes are still shut and I tell him we're done. He looked at his finger incredulously and said "That's IT?!" I don't believe he even felt it. Maybe that beer did kick in.
"Yup! I'll get some peroxide and a bandaid." I came back, patched him up and then put on a split ring and a new short-shank Gamakatsu treble hook on his X Rap. Oh, and I removed those sucker lips. He was good to go and quite relieved. Me, too - that's only the second time I've used that technique. The last time I did it to a guy's thumb he hollered "Holy Hannah! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! TELL ME that you GOT it, Joe! Don't say that we have to do that again!"
In that particular instance, the hook came sailing out and pinged around the room like a ricocheting bullet in an old cowboy western. I told the guy after his screaming that it "didn't work and it looks like I need to do it again".
He groaned loudly and I then quickly followed up with, "Nah, we got it out! You're good to go!" He had to look at his thumb to verify. Whew! LOL!
This year's hook removal was pretty painless. I went back inside to where Jackie had come out of hiding and was talking with the rep. We placed a Wildfowler order for some of our fall clothing lines and everybody was happy!
Never a dull moment at Northwind Lodge.
Today, at 1 PM a sales rep came in to show us a line of hunting clothing for the store part of Northwind Lodge which is Red Rock. Red Rock Wilderness Store to be exact. He's an older gentleman whom I've known for quite a few years and he was outside for a bit getting a rolling clothing rack ready with the product line to display. I helped him wrestle it over the threshold of the store door and got behind the counter with Jackie as the show was set to go. This particular line is of clothing is cheap in price only. The actual clothing itself is some of the best we've ever seen in quality. It is simple, beautifully made, generously cut, very warm and just a great all around line that would easily go head to head with any line offered by any well-known big box retailer. So, we like it. One can actually own an affordable product that is made well. As a result, we always look forward to meeting this rep from Wildfowler.
Earlier in the day, one of our cabin guests came into the store to buy some new Rapala X Raps. He'd been casting off of the dock at the beach on Jasper and brought in a nice large mouth bass. He also missed several other fish until he finally gave the lure up to the lake. Apparently it was tribute for the nice bass. He came to buy a few more and then disappeared back down to the beach to see if there were more nice bass waiting for a chance to attack an X Rap.
About a third of the way in to the sales rep's presentation which was very casual as we like them that way ourselves, our guest and his friend came back in the store. I stopped looking at the rep and asked our guests if we could help them. The one guy said, "No, no. Looks like you are busy with this guy, we can come back later."
I said, "No, we're fine. What can I get you?"
"Well", he said. "Can you help me with this?" he queried as he held up his hand with the brand new Rapala X Rap in his palm.
At first I was going to ask what is wrong with the lure, but then I saw the blood on his middle finger. He had one of those razor sharp, brand spanking new, treble hooks jammed in past the barb in his middle finger. The rep looked at it and said, "Whoa!" and the guy with the hook in his finger reiterated, "But, really....you folks ought to finish up here!" To the that rep said, "Don't worry about me. You gotta get that fixed!", and we concurred.
I looked at it and said, "Yeah, I can get that out." We'll just pop it out with a string and a stick and the rep chimed in, "Yeah....you won't even feel it. I've had it done before."
I asked to take a closer look and he presented his hand over to me. At that point, it passed right in front of Jackie who was standing next to me and she looked at the blood and rather urgently said, "Ooo, oooo... I, I gotta go to the back room." I thought she was going to knock me over as she made her distance and disdain be known. Jackie turns green at the first sign of blood, regardless of ownership. I laughed because I already knew that.
I looked at the hook on that shiny, brand new X Rap and said that I'd go and get some snippers and we'll pull the points off the other two hooks of the treble and remove it from the lure body. It was then that I noticed that there was a pair of sucker lips stuck on the rear hook. He caught himself a bugle-mouth trout! The suckers are spawning in Jasper Creek and that is what hit the X Rap. He said it fought like crazy, pulling line out of his reel making the drag sing. But, then when he finally got the sucker up on the dock, he was trying to be nice to it by freeing it from the treble hook to let it go. Well, the sucker, being a rather obnoxious, rough breed of fish, decided that he wasn't going back into the lake without a fight. He flopped around magnificently, until he ultimately hooked this unsuspecting angler with the other end of a two-hook lure. At that point, being nice to the fish took far less priority as the shooting pains from his middle finger to his neck told him he should now "strangle the sucker". Anything to make that lousy fish stop jumping around on the dock.
I'm not entirely sure as to what transpired exactly, but there were sucker eggs smeared all over the front of the guy's shirt and a well-defined set of sucker lips still stuck to the back hook of the X Rap. That would indicate to me that the sucker didn't fair too well in the end. But, who knows?
I ran up to my basement which after numerous years is looking more like a film clip from the show "Hoarders" and went directly to the spot where I had my bike spoke cutters from my past life as a bike mechanic. Like any organized mess, they were right there, proudly waiting for this moment. Then, I went back to the store, snipped about twenty inches of 60 pound test monofilament off a spool and grabbed a screwdriver. I had the guy go out on the deck and he was stammering, "Wait, now...wha...what are we doing?"
While I was working on his hand as he laid it on the railing, I replied, "First, we're gonna snip that split ring and remove the lure so we don't get that other hook back in us by accident. Then, we snip all the points off the hook that aren't stuck in you." I moved carefully and tried to not jiggle the hook as I lopped off parts of the forge-hardened steel with my spoke cutters (spoke cutters really work great, incidentally) until I was down to the stem and buried point. "Then, we take this line and put it around the hook, right next to the skin. We wrap the two ends of the line around the screwdriver handle for a grip. I'm now going to tip the hook forward and yank on 'three' and it should pop right out. "
His buddy said that he should have had a drink prior to this event to which he confirmed that he had just downed a beer. "That beer should kick in about half an hour after we're finished here. Lot good that's gonna do", I said.
He shuts his eyes. I grip his finger and hold it down to the deck railing and carefully tip the hook forward with one of my free fingers. He closes his eyes. I think his buddy was giggling. "One, two, THREE!" and I give it a yank. It popped out as smooth as butter with barely the slightest hint of resistance. I go "All right!" as I see the hook is tangled in the line attached to my screwdriver. I look up and his eyes are still shut and I tell him we're done. He looked at his finger incredulously and said "That's IT?!" I don't believe he even felt it. Maybe that beer did kick in.
"Yup! I'll get some peroxide and a bandaid." I came back, patched him up and then put on a split ring and a new short-shank Gamakatsu treble hook on his X Rap. Oh, and I removed those sucker lips. He was good to go and quite relieved. Me, too - that's only the second time I've used that technique. The last time I did it to a guy's thumb he hollered "Holy Hannah! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! TELL ME that you GOT it, Joe! Don't say that we have to do that again!"
In that particular instance, the hook came sailing out and pinged around the room like a ricocheting bullet in an old cowboy western. I told the guy after his screaming that it "didn't work and it looks like I need to do it again".
He groaned loudly and I then quickly followed up with, "Nah, we got it out! You're good to go!" He had to look at his thumb to verify. Whew! LOL!
This year's hook removal was pretty painless. I went back inside to where Jackie had come out of hiding and was talking with the rep. We placed a Wildfowler order for some of our fall clothing lines and everybody was happy!
Never a dull moment at Northwind Lodge.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Delilah's First Boat Ride
Alrighty, then... Just got back from Wood Lake - at 8:03 PM. The same party of lodge guests was there today, four in two canoes and two guys in one row boat. The four in canoes...who had been there before, all came back at 3:30 PM. I waited for the two in the boat to come back until 7:30 PM, but no sign of them availed itself. The fact that we're burning daylight puts me in full alert mode. I went to check with the rest of their group at their cabin and asked if either of the two guys had ever been to Wood Lake before. No, was the answer. I was a bit incredulous at the sheer lack of planning, but I had a gut feeling that this would be the case when I went to visit them. In fact, that was why I went to see them. Wood lake is a a 453 acre lake in the BWCA. It's easy to get turned around and I supposed that if they were lost, they weren't terribly lost because tonight was a nice calm evening. Nonetheless, I'd rather have extra time on my side than not enough so I make the decision to go immediately.
One of the younger guys (age 69) volunteered to join me in crossing the portage and heading out on the lake. I grabbed my guiding oars (I never lend them to anyone, ever), some PFD's, the boat key and Delilah. I didn't want to leave her home as Annette was visiting a friend and the concept of cleaning up the house after the little dog went nuts was less than appealing. Cookie was her usual sound, calm self, but she has no control whatsoever over Delilah. (I don't think she really even tries. She's a bit lackadaisical in areas of guidance and counsel and running far and moving for approaching cars, etc.)
With Delilah snarling at the strange-to-her guy in the truck, we took off. Got to the Wood Lake parking lot and their vehicle was still there. Bad sign Number One. I take my oars, the guy grabs the PFD's and off we go. Delilah is on the leash and as I'm moving fast, I'm really wondering if this was my smartest move of the evening. She's never been in a boat before. Cookie freaked out last time I put her in a boat. I figured I might have to tie Delilah to a tree and go. I get to the water's edge some 210 rods later and see Bad Sign Number Two: no boat with two guys in it.
I unlocked our second boat and pushed it out and my partner piled in. That guy moves pretty well for a 69 year old for his second round trip on this portage in one day. I loaded Delilah and he took the leash. After a some initial bouncing around, she stood on the floor of the boat like she's been doing this forever. Whew! I turn the boat around, pull on my oars and head the boat down the river towards the opening of the lake. I just round the first "S" turn and am about 200 feet out in the river and there they are. Whew, again. I didn't have to row very far this evening. My partner asked if we could just say that we were "out for some exercise". I smiled and said "Sure!" I turned the boat back around and brought it in to shore where I locked it up. That was a really short trip. We were happy to see the two newbies coming in completely intact with no issues. The one guy had two walleyes and lost a third having had no landing net.
I locked up the boats, and told the three guys that I would be heading back, One of the guys in the boat asked me if we were the "scouting party". I said that I was "just out for some exercise". I'm pretty sure he didn't believe me. I took off up the trail, oars on my shoulder, dog on leash. Nothing like the Wood Lake Workout to burn some calories off of my layer of winter fat.
One of the younger guys (age 69) volunteered to join me in crossing the portage and heading out on the lake. I grabbed my guiding oars (I never lend them to anyone, ever), some PFD's, the boat key and Delilah. I didn't want to leave her home as Annette was visiting a friend and the concept of cleaning up the house after the little dog went nuts was less than appealing. Cookie was her usual sound, calm self, but she has no control whatsoever over Delilah. (I don't think she really even tries. She's a bit lackadaisical in areas of guidance and counsel and running far and moving for approaching cars, etc.)
With Delilah snarling at the strange-to-her guy in the truck, we took off. Got to the Wood Lake parking lot and their vehicle was still there. Bad sign Number One. I take my oars, the guy grabs the PFD's and off we go. Delilah is on the leash and as I'm moving fast, I'm really wondering if this was my smartest move of the evening. She's never been in a boat before. Cookie freaked out last time I put her in a boat. I figured I might have to tie Delilah to a tree and go. I get to the water's edge some 210 rods later and see Bad Sign Number Two: no boat with two guys in it.
I unlocked our second boat and pushed it out and my partner piled in. That guy moves pretty well for a 69 year old for his second round trip on this portage in one day. I loaded Delilah and he took the leash. After a some initial bouncing around, she stood on the floor of the boat like she's been doing this forever. Whew! I turn the boat around, pull on my oars and head the boat down the river towards the opening of the lake. I just round the first "S" turn and am about 200 feet out in the river and there they are. Whew, again. I didn't have to row very far this evening. My partner asked if we could just say that we were "out for some exercise". I smiled and said "Sure!" I turned the boat back around and brought it in to shore where I locked it up. That was a really short trip. We were happy to see the two newbies coming in completely intact with no issues. The one guy had two walleyes and lost a third having had no landing net.
I locked up the boats, and told the three guys that I would be heading back, One of the guys in the boat asked me if we were the "scouting party". I said that I was "just out for some exercise". I'm pretty sure he didn't believe me. I took off up the trail, oars on my shoulder, dog on leash. Nothing like the Wood Lake Workout to burn some calories off of my layer of winter fat.
Bullets, Boats, and Bears
Well, spring is in the air I think. Yesterday morning was 25 degrees F when I got up and standing water had ice on it. However, Jasper Creek is really ripping hard right now and the water everywhere is high. We are at the point where it'll be good to see the leaves starting to come out as they drink up a lot of water. The ground in the woods is pretty wet yet.
Two days ago, I went to Wood Lake to check on our boats. I took Delilah on a leash to get her used to seeing new things and still remain with me or as least near by. Good thing I had her on a leash. I walked a fast pace over that 210 rod portage, skipping around big muddy sections, looking for rocks to land my feet on to keep dry. Delilah followed along in a trot but every now and then she would blast off in a direction of a squirrel or "perceived" animal of the woods. With a firm grip on the end of the leash, she would wind up doing an undignified backflip when she accelerated herself to the end. She remained unflappable (and unable to learn, apparently) in the whole "running out of rope thing" as she did it several times. She's still a puppy.
After about 12 minutes of walking on last year's leaves on top of this year's mud, we made it to the hill above the water. Only at this time of year with no leaves on the branches, can one see out into the endless muskeg towards Wood Lake from the overlooking hill. I could see that the water was really high. There is a waterfall behind the hill that comes out right where our boats are locked up and it, too, was roaring loudly. Delilah was obviously having a ball with so many new sights and sounds in focused oblivion smelling every scent of every animal that came this way.
I made my way down those same rocks that I have now crossed for an entire lifetime. At the water's edge, I turned starboard to use the little path that takes me to our boats and tied Delilah's leash to an alder branch. I flipped the boats upright and checked them over to make sure nobody shot them up over winter.
As a young lad, when we had our boats down there and Deer Trail Lodge had theirs, I remember the constant struggle with their lodge guests using our dock because it was built better than Deer Trail's. Then, their guests in utter laziness would sometimes simply lock a Deer Trail boat to the back handles of our boats so when our guests would get there, they "could" go fishing but would need to drag along a Deer Trail boat which was generally frowned upon as a viable option. Our lodge guests would have to come get us, we'd have to call Deer Trail. They'd have to send somebody down the portage with their key. We'd have to go there as well. It was a gargantuan pain sometimes. Everybody ended up doing a whole lot of walking because of one clueless individual with a lock.
Those boats from the other resort would truly drive us nuts. One year, the owner took his four green boats in the fall and stacked them upside down in a pile directly across the end of the portage. We were simply astounded by the apparent lack of concern for anyone else using that portage, namely in the winter. Lots of people would snowmobile to Wood Lake to go ice fishing as did we. Coming off the portage with a "gate" built out of 14 foot long, steel, green boats made for some fancy maneuvering and cussing by a lot of people forced to crash through the surrounding brush with their snowmobiles. A clear, open portage would have worked a lot better. That winter, those boats didn't fair too well. They ended up riddled with bullet holes -lots of them- through all the important parts and not one fired by us. Apparently, someone took out their anger - boat rage - on those Deer Trail boats. Based on the caliber, we're pretty sure we know who shot them up but we didn't have proof and nobody was terribly surprised that this happened. (Plug the portage with boats, somebody shoots up the boats? Nah!) Well, except for Deer Trail Lodge - they had to do a lot of repairs - they were probably upset. After that incident, however, he always flipped them over off to the side and had no more trouble with bullet holes. And, that is one of the things I think about coming down that hill to look at our own boats. Over the years, we've had bullets holes and shotgun blasts with birdshot from fall grouse hunters who couldn't find a bird so they shot a big red steel boat. We've always done our best to keep them tucked away off the beaten path and have been fortunate to not have a lot of vandalism. They were fine on this trip as well.
Another thing I think of when I get ready to walk down that final hill is a story my dad told. When HE was a kid, some of his guests went to Wood Lake for the day back in the 40's. Back then, personal flotation devices were not required but people brought along those old kapok boat cushions because even in the 40's, the seats got hard after a while. Sitting in one of our floating boats were some of our guests who were just getting ready to start the motor and head out to the lake. They suddenly heard a loud shot and felt the impact as a 30 caliber bullet tore under the middle guy's backside cutting a 14 inch groove in the seat under his boat cushion and then making an exit hole out the side of the boat 4 inches below the gunwale. It missed him completely. Everybody ducked, squirmed and yelled when they realized that someone actually took a shot a them with a 30-30 Winchester! What the...? It was spring time - NOT deer season! Who the heck is out there shooting and why?!
As it turned out, there were two escaped convicts from some faraway prison who were on the run. For actual motives unbeknownst to my dad and grandpa, they fired one round at our guests and narrowly missed a seated man's hip and butt by mere inches. Then they took off. It made no sense -shoot at unarmed people once without warning or robbing them and then take off into the woods. The authorities eventually apprehended these guys and caught them with the rifle. Initially, nobody could figure out what they were doing at the end of the Wood Lake portage in the middle of nowhere. Then it was surmised that they were interested in taking the boat and heading to Canada with an ill-planned escape trip. It made sense because we're are pretty far north and the border is only a hop, skip and a jump away. However, one would need canoes to quickly cross the portages at Hula and Good Lake to get to Basswood. Maybe they only had one bullet left and missed killing the guy so the other two would not have been very cooperative. Who knows? It made for an interesting day of fishing in the area that was eventually deemed God's country by the federal government or AKA, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness some thirty-plus years later. Unbeknownst to the vast majority of visitors today, many things happened in the BWCA when it was a just a mere wilderness instead of a federally-designated wilderness - which the same but with more rules. To all of us at those times, it was just rocks and sticks and water in the middle of nowhere without all the government restrictions and the fancy title.
This story, and my dad running into bears on the Wood Lake portage resulted in me carrying a .45 cal. 1911 pistol for the first several years of my guiding career on Wood Lake. As a kid, I used to pull that heavy pistol out of my pack and clip its army-issued leather holster around a gunwale bracket of the boat right next to me.
My new clients would usually gasp audibly and then stutter as they asked if the pistol was "real". "Yeah, it's very real" I would reply.
"Is it loaded?", they would query hesitantly.
"Yup!" would be my answer. "It's ready to go."
I would always tell them it was for bears on the portage. Some of the clients would nervously smile or show facial trepidation to their buddy on the other seat. Then, after the shock of having a 15-year-old with a loaded cannon sitting next to him in the boat subsided, they would ask incredulously as an after thought, "There are BEARS here?"
"Well, of course", I would reply and then tell the Cliff notes version of how my dad and his friend John Butorac had a big momma bear chasing them around in the dark one night on the Wood Lake portage. Coffee can of gasoline wired to a forked stick for a torch, stumbling through through muskeg, wet up to their armpits, feeling with their hands for the portage in the pitch black, not knowing where that 350 lb. angry bear was, etc. Fun times! It seemed that nobody ever lolly-gagged on the Wood Lake portage on the way out.
Since I was young and guiding many "off the road" people (who weren't staying with us and we didn't know them), I never told them I carried that .45 mainly for them. Nobody messed with me ever, not that I ever felt that any of my clients would. But who knows - I had a .45 right next to me a all times so it could have been a real disincentive. For the most part, they were all nice people. When I finally grew bigger and surlier, I left the .45 at home. It was extra weight that I happy to live without on the portage. An oar would have worked pretty well, had I needed it.
So, I checked the locks, floated the boats and untied Delilah. Back up that hill we went with the little brown dog tirelessly sniffing the ghosts of many seasons past. There were leaves to be raked, water lines to be turned on and remnants of a hard winter that needed to be put to rest at Northwind Lodge so we headed home. Our first people would be arriving tomorrow.
Two days ago, I went to Wood Lake to check on our boats. I took Delilah on a leash to get her used to seeing new things and still remain with me or as least near by. Good thing I had her on a leash. I walked a fast pace over that 210 rod portage, skipping around big muddy sections, looking for rocks to land my feet on to keep dry. Delilah followed along in a trot but every now and then she would blast off in a direction of a squirrel or "perceived" animal of the woods. With a firm grip on the end of the leash, she would wind up doing an undignified backflip when she accelerated herself to the end. She remained unflappable (and unable to learn, apparently) in the whole "running out of rope thing" as she did it several times. She's still a puppy.
After about 12 minutes of walking on last year's leaves on top of this year's mud, we made it to the hill above the water. Only at this time of year with no leaves on the branches, can one see out into the endless muskeg towards Wood Lake from the overlooking hill. I could see that the water was really high. There is a waterfall behind the hill that comes out right where our boats are locked up and it, too, was roaring loudly. Delilah was obviously having a ball with so many new sights and sounds in focused oblivion smelling every scent of every animal that came this way.
I made my way down those same rocks that I have now crossed for an entire lifetime. At the water's edge, I turned starboard to use the little path that takes me to our boats and tied Delilah's leash to an alder branch. I flipped the boats upright and checked them over to make sure nobody shot them up over winter.
As a young lad, when we had our boats down there and Deer Trail Lodge had theirs, I remember the constant struggle with their lodge guests using our dock because it was built better than Deer Trail's. Then, their guests in utter laziness would sometimes simply lock a Deer Trail boat to the back handles of our boats so when our guests would get there, they "could" go fishing but would need to drag along a Deer Trail boat which was generally frowned upon as a viable option. Our lodge guests would have to come get us, we'd have to call Deer Trail. They'd have to send somebody down the portage with their key. We'd have to go there as well. It was a gargantuan pain sometimes. Everybody ended up doing a whole lot of walking because of one clueless individual with a lock.
Those boats from the other resort would truly drive us nuts. One year, the owner took his four green boats in the fall and stacked them upside down in a pile directly across the end of the portage. We were simply astounded by the apparent lack of concern for anyone else using that portage, namely in the winter. Lots of people would snowmobile to Wood Lake to go ice fishing as did we. Coming off the portage with a "gate" built out of 14 foot long, steel, green boats made for some fancy maneuvering and cussing by a lot of people forced to crash through the surrounding brush with their snowmobiles. A clear, open portage would have worked a lot better. That winter, those boats didn't fair too well. They ended up riddled with bullet holes -lots of them- through all the important parts and not one fired by us. Apparently, someone took out their anger - boat rage - on those Deer Trail boats. Based on the caliber, we're pretty sure we know who shot them up but we didn't have proof and nobody was terribly surprised that this happened. (Plug the portage with boats, somebody shoots up the boats? Nah!) Well, except for Deer Trail Lodge - they had to do a lot of repairs - they were probably upset. After that incident, however, he always flipped them over off to the side and had no more trouble with bullet holes. And, that is one of the things I think about coming down that hill to look at our own boats. Over the years, we've had bullets holes and shotgun blasts with birdshot from fall grouse hunters who couldn't find a bird so they shot a big red steel boat. We've always done our best to keep them tucked away off the beaten path and have been fortunate to not have a lot of vandalism. They were fine on this trip as well.
Another thing I think of when I get ready to walk down that final hill is a story my dad told. When HE was a kid, some of his guests went to Wood Lake for the day back in the 40's. Back then, personal flotation devices were not required but people brought along those old kapok boat cushions because even in the 40's, the seats got hard after a while. Sitting in one of our floating boats were some of our guests who were just getting ready to start the motor and head out to the lake. They suddenly heard a loud shot and felt the impact as a 30 caliber bullet tore under the middle guy's backside cutting a 14 inch groove in the seat under his boat cushion and then making an exit hole out the side of the boat 4 inches below the gunwale. It missed him completely. Everybody ducked, squirmed and yelled when they realized that someone actually took a shot a them with a 30-30 Winchester! What the...? It was spring time - NOT deer season! Who the heck is out there shooting and why?!
As it turned out, there were two escaped convicts from some faraway prison who were on the run. For actual motives unbeknownst to my dad and grandpa, they fired one round at our guests and narrowly missed a seated man's hip and butt by mere inches. Then they took off. It made no sense -shoot at unarmed people once without warning or robbing them and then take off into the woods. The authorities eventually apprehended these guys and caught them with the rifle. Initially, nobody could figure out what they were doing at the end of the Wood Lake portage in the middle of nowhere. Then it was surmised that they were interested in taking the boat and heading to Canada with an ill-planned escape trip. It made sense because we're are pretty far north and the border is only a hop, skip and a jump away. However, one would need canoes to quickly cross the portages at Hula and Good Lake to get to Basswood. Maybe they only had one bullet left and missed killing the guy so the other two would not have been very cooperative. Who knows? It made for an interesting day of fishing in the area that was eventually deemed God's country by the federal government or AKA, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness some thirty-plus years later. Unbeknownst to the vast majority of visitors today, many things happened in the BWCA when it was a just a mere wilderness instead of a federally-designated wilderness - which the same but with more rules. To all of us at those times, it was just rocks and sticks and water in the middle of nowhere without all the government restrictions and the fancy title.
This story, and my dad running into bears on the Wood Lake portage resulted in me carrying a .45 cal. 1911 pistol for the first several years of my guiding career on Wood Lake. As a kid, I used to pull that heavy pistol out of my pack and clip its army-issued leather holster around a gunwale bracket of the boat right next to me.
My new clients would usually gasp audibly and then stutter as they asked if the pistol was "real". "Yeah, it's very real" I would reply.
"Is it loaded?", they would query hesitantly.
"Yup!" would be my answer. "It's ready to go."
I would always tell them it was for bears on the portage. Some of the clients would nervously smile or show facial trepidation to their buddy on the other seat. Then, after the shock of having a 15-year-old with a loaded cannon sitting next to him in the boat subsided, they would ask incredulously as an after thought, "There are BEARS here?"
"Well, of course", I would reply and then tell the Cliff notes version of how my dad and his friend John Butorac had a big momma bear chasing them around in the dark one night on the Wood Lake portage. Coffee can of gasoline wired to a forked stick for a torch, stumbling through through muskeg, wet up to their armpits, feeling with their hands for the portage in the pitch black, not knowing where that 350 lb. angry bear was, etc. Fun times! It seemed that nobody ever lolly-gagged on the Wood Lake portage on the way out.
Since I was young and guiding many "off the road" people (who weren't staying with us and we didn't know them), I never told them I carried that .45 mainly for them. Nobody messed with me ever, not that I ever felt that any of my clients would. But who knows - I had a .45 right next to me a all times so it could have been a real disincentive. For the most part, they were all nice people. When I finally grew bigger and surlier, I left the .45 at home. It was extra weight that I happy to live without on the portage. An oar would have worked pretty well, had I needed it.
So, I checked the locks, floated the boats and untied Delilah. Back up that hill we went with the little brown dog tirelessly sniffing the ghosts of many seasons past. There were leaves to be raked, water lines to be turned on and remnants of a hard winter that needed to be put to rest at Northwind Lodge so we headed home. Our first people would be arriving tomorrow.
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