Growing up, living and working on a Minnesota resort, Northwind Lodge near Ely, MN presents challenges, wildlife, and some interesting stories next to the BWCA.
Bluegills, large & small - mouth bass are officially biting on Jasper Lake! Northwind Lodge guests are catching them right off of the docks with some pretty nice fish to boot! It's been varied weather week and now we're experiencing some rainy days, but the smallies are on the spawning beds so there are some pretty big fish being caught and released. Wood Lake has had some good walleye fishing as well, along with nice bass and some big northerns.
So, whattaya waitin' for? C'mon up and get away for a few nights with our Internet Special Rates for new customers! Click Here to see the rates. Note that we require a two-consecutive-night minimum stay in our cabins and that makes sense. Staying one night affords you no time to do anything. Fun & relaxation needs time so plan on kicking back when you get here - or run around like a squirrel looking for nuts during a forest fire. It's you choice. Come stay with us!
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. Visit Northwind Lodge's Website Visit Red Rock Outdoors
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.
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.
Feeling creative today with a radio ad I put together about "not sleeping on a rock" and still enjoying wilderness. I set it to pictures from Jasper Lake and Northwind Lodge. It's only 41 seconds long. Enjoy.
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!
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.
