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Part 2

I've modified the back of my probe to fit the dogs, some readily accessible gear, and a place to sleep if conditions require.

The boat is loaded to the gunwales with all the comforts of living, full size tent and air bed, wall to wall carpeting for the tent, chairs, complete gas kitchen, and enough fishing gear to sink the boat. The gear is packed meticulously and held secure under a brand new Cabela's boat cover.  I believe in a tight ship on water and on land.

I'm ready for travel; the dogs are excited and ready to travel.  Tomorrow I'm off on another adventure.

When I arrive at Mardon, I have my choice of spots in the campground; even though, many of the sites are under the high spring water.  I choose a spot next to the flooded sites, so my boat has shelter, and I can keep an eye on my gear.

I set up camp and launched the boat.  Found time to work the dogs from the undeveloped Mardon boat launch.  The camp is empty.

I half-heartily fished the dock at dusk to pass the time; no fish-- no sweat.  I watched a beautiful eastern Washington sunset.  I'm ready for the morning. 

By 9:00 I had a walleye in the boat for camp meat.  A nice walleye at that, 25 3/4" and 6 #.  The fish had come from the second drop-off in 35 feet of water.  I was jigging a chartreuse blade, red bead Mark's lure on a dead slow drift.  The conditions were overcast and choppy.
I had fresh walleye for lunch.  Worked with Rad at the boat launch; he's getting better, but he drops the dummy rather than give it to hand.

After a short nap, I went back to Goose Island and made a couple of passes to no avail.  The lake got calm and the temperature rose.  I made the long run to Crab Creek to try my luck there.

At Crab Creek, I made quite a few passes in an area where I've had good luck in the past.  I mark lots of fish on the graph; but, the fish aren't willing to bite.   The rain starts and I run home for shelter concerned about wind.

Early to bed for an early start.

I looked at the dogs and they had a tough night outside.  The wind is blowing hard.  I'm tired, and I have a sore throat.  Not so tired and sore to try some fishing though.

I was out on the water at 6:30.  Fished once around Goose Island and decided to head in because the water is too rough and I'm the only one out this morning.  A big blow was coming in.

I took a nap, cleaned camp.  My girlfriend, Debbie, and her son, Chad, are coming to visit for the weekend.

In the afternoon, I took the dogs to Coral Lake across the way from Mardon for a quick plunk fishing and dog training.  Both the trout and Rad are soft mouthed.  Rad was making some nice long water retrieves.

In the evening, the water on the big lake laid down.  Chad and I took a run to Crab Creek; we ran way up to the power lines looking for walleye on a false spawning run, and I guess we went right by the fish.  The fish weren't biting there; but, back at camp I heard that the fish were on the bite at the opening of Crab Creek.

The wind came up fast and hard.  The big lake got very rough.  We had several miles of open water to cross to return to camp.

I decided we had better make a break for camp. We strapped on the life vests.   Being on the conservative side, I asked Chad to switch gas tanks before we started our run; I didn't want to be without power on the rough open water.

Exactly 1/2 of the way back or as far into the rough open water as one can get, the motor died abruptly.  I hadn't noted that when Chad switched tanks he dropped the working guts of  the Yamaha gas connector onto the floor of the boat.

The lake was terribly rough and the bottom was too far down for the anchor.  I started up the wimpy, 1/2 horse electric motor to hold the bow into the weather.  We flagged down a passing boat.  They had better things to do then keep us from drowning.  They generously informed us (not) that they would report our situation back at the camp; like, they wouldn't be able to figure out that we had drowned when we didn't make it back to the camp.
Knowing we were on our own, I had Chad rip the bottom of the boat apart to locate the parts for the gas connector.  I held the boat into the weather and dodged the breaking swells.  Fortunately, Chad found the missing pieces and repaired the connector with his trusty Leatherman tool despite a severe case of the shakes and profuse sweating.  We were back under power for the remainder of the trip back to camp.   The kid had pulled through.

The minute we hit the shore before I could anchor the boat into the weather, the boat was swamped from behind by the breaking swells coming through the flooded brush.  Despite the mess that we could pump out later, we were relieved to have our feet on land.

The wind continued to blow hard the rest of the day and all night.  I never saw the bad Samaritans, nor heard reports of our floundering adventure; we had been left for dead.

What happened to the fish?  I can't even mark one on the graph or get one to touch my bait.  I hang it up early for a pancake breakfast with Debbie and Chad.

Debbie, Chad, and the Dogs head to visit Debbie's parents at Soap Lake, Washington.   Feels good to get a break from the dogs.  I took a run back into Crap Creek, and again I ran by the fish on the bite at the opening.

When Debbie and Chad returned from Soap Lake, Chad was still a little shaky about boating the big lake.  I took him by car to the head waters of Lind Coulee to fish from the bank for trout.

The trout weren't biting.  I told Chad the story about how the Europeans are avid about fishing for carp with hardened flavored sweet corn.  He wanted to give it a try.  I had some corn; though, it wasn't hardened and flavored.  In short order, Chad had captured a respectable carp, European style.

As we sat on the bank, we spotted a beautiful, great white egret.   I still thought that these were albino blue herons.

Chad and Debbie went back home tonight.  Again the camp is quiet and empty.   Ole Nuke is still shivering from all the rain and wind.  Nuke is allowed to sleep on the carpet in the tent; Rad is left out for conditioning.

I stopped by and visited Debbie's folks in Soap Lake on the way.  The roads were full of pheasants and chuckar.

The drive was accompanied by intermittent rain from black clouds.  As I travel north from Soap Lake into desert nothingness, a grinding noise appears from my engine.   I don't quite know what to do about it at this point but cross my fingers and hope for the best.

I made it to Spring Canyon Campground just north of Grand Coulee Dam and Electric City.  The campground is very nice, no fee, empty, and even includes a dish washing sink.  The only campers are retirees.

Relaxed a while after selecting a site to setup.  I apparently relaxed a bit too long before getting the tent setup, because a big black rain cloud came along and soaked the tent during setup.

I took a break from fishing at noon.  The sun is intense and shade at the camp is scarce.  After lunch I ran down to the dam and fished until 4:30.  Still no luck.

I heard that maggots were the flavor of choice to tip lure hooks.  I drove to Electric City for maggots.  In the evening, the weather changed for the worse very suddenly.  High winds and the blackest clouds I've ever seen.  I heard later that funnel clouds had been spotted in a number of areas; even, near home.  I'm hoping I can fish tomorrow.

The dogs have become better campers, better healers.  I'm grateful that the 200 # of Labradors have stopped pulling me around.  They are very good around the other campers.  Nuke is now very spoiled and begs to stay in the tent on the carpet at night.  Rad hasn't figured it out yet; he's still happy outside at night.

I'm out on the water by 5:30 this morning.  I fished the cove straight across from the boat launch.  A good bite turned on at 6:00.  Had several hard bites on a long lined # 5 gold rapala.  One fish felt like a ton of bricks as it stripped the line across the water with its fin out of the water.  I still haven't boated one, and the bite ends.

The wind came up; but, the narrow lake is sheltered and the water didn't get too rough.  Poor Ole Nuke had a mild seizure in the boat; I know Nuke, these fish frustrate me too.

I took a break at 11:30 and groomed the dogs a little in camp.  I found a tick on Rad and ran to town to get tick collars for the dogs.  I suppose now that were in such close company the ticks will head for me; I considered getting a collar for me.
I'm back on the water for fish at 2:00.  It's time to get the skunk out of this lake.  I hooked a nice fat 16" rainbow just up river from the camp over 200 feet of water.  The fish strummed the pole up and down when it hooked up.  I caught the fish with a modified Mark's Lure; nickel blade, flo red beads, flow orange k fly tipped with maggots.

I enjoyed a dinner of delicious barbecued rainbow over rice.  The fish reminded me of coastal river rainbows.  Nothing like the fish of the seep lakes.  I feel accomplished tonight, lots of time to relax, time to make some calls to family.  The weather is calm and the birds are singing. 

Packing up takes approximately 3 hours.  I noticed the only bugs at Roosevelt are ticks and ants.  I also noticed that setting up or taking down a tent brings rain.

I had a leisure drive from Spring Canyon to Coeur d' Alene.  The noise in my engine now sounds like a small airplane; the only consolation is a hole has appeared in my muffler to drown out the noise.  Rainfall from start to finish.

I decided to take up residence at Squaw Bay Resort on the east side of the lake.  The resort just opened for the season; I'm the only guest.   I picked a nice spot on the water and set up camp (in the rain of course).

I showered (at last) and did laundry. I even found time to dead bait for pike from the shore at camp.

Debbie and I took a drive around Hayden lake looking for skin heads and a spot to camp.  I've heard good reports about pike fishing in Hayden Lake.  The lake looked fantastic and fishy; but, we couldn't find any camping.

I looked forward to a drive around town.  I had spent some time here 15 years ago and wanted to see how it had changed.  Boy, had it changed; the population must have tripled.  I looked forward to dinner at my favorite restaurant in Coeur d' Alene.  The Topper Burger didn't taste the same and didn't impress Debbie a bit. 

I hooked a small pike from the dock on a large Daredevil spoon as the sun was just coming up.  I watched the pike struggle in the crystal clear water before losing him.   Too watch the pike come from under the dock to woof the spoon was a thrill that boiled my blood; I was ready to do this again.

I fished dead baits, spoons, and spinners all around Squaw Bay for the rest of the day to no avail.
Ospreys live, hunt, and sing in the bay.  Others hooked fish today in squaw bay.  The boat dock store keeper hooked a 10# pike on a little cleo with a plastic grub on one hook.  What a job; just one customer (me, I bought a little cleo) all day.  He's probably on disability now with carpal tunnel from all that repetitive casting.

It was a beautiful, cold full moon night.

The bay is very busy today. Jet skis are out.  I decided with all the noise it would be best to work the dogs.  The dogs had lots of energy after being tied for the day.

Debbie left at noon.  I extended my stay here, cause I need to catch a pike.   I want to have at least one more day of quiet fishing on the bay.

A pair of campers caught a small pike and lost another in areas I fished before them.   I even saw the osprey fly by with a fish.

I caught my first pike ever at 6:00 on a little cleo with a chartreuse grub run through one of the hooks.   The fish hit like a ton of bricks and put up a respectable fight.  It's no trophy at 23.75" and 4 to 5 lb.

I figured it was now time to do some vehicle maintenance.  I took my car to town to replace the muffler and have that annoying noise looked into.  The noise simply turned out to be a bearing in my alternator that could wait until I returned home.
I brought a newspaper back to camp to catch up on the news; I'm starting to feel quite isolated from the world.  I read the paper while dead baiting for pike from shore.

It's a beautiful day today.  Quite a few turtles and little furry things have come out and are swimming in the bay.  I watched an Osprey with a fish he caught do some kind of victory dance.  The bird soared high, squealing and fluttering.

I found some time to work Rad in the swimming area at the camp.  He's getting better; but, he still has trouble bringing the dummy to hand.

I enjoyed a fresh pike and chips dinner before evening fishing.  After dinner, I hooked a very aggressive pike on a little Cleo w/ grub near the place that I caught one this morning.  I didn't pull too hard by the hook came out and the fish was free to fight again.

I extended one more day.

High clouds are moving in today.  Checking the rig out for the planned move tomorrow, I find the trailer lights no longer work and the car battery went dead.  I hope this is not a sign of things to come.

I fished the evening without luck.  I showered and planned the trip to Priest Lake, Idaho in the morning.  I watched the Ospreys fishing in the bay;  their luck was no better than mine today.

As I was packing my camp, I watched an Osprey do his victory dance with a fish in his beak -- flutter up-- soaring down-- singing up a storm.  I think the fishing is so tough here that even the birds celebrate when they finally catch one.

I drove from Squaw Bay to Priest Lake, Idaho.  I even saw a Ruffed Grouse on the road;  this was the first time I've seen one east of the mountains.

Priest Lake is beautiful, rimmed by snow-capped hills, and rustic.  The big lake looks like it can get rough; I'll have to be careful.  The bugs are thick and voracious.  I'm deet from head to toe; so are the dogs.   I've found a deserted camp behind Priest Lake Marina.  For the first time on my trip, I set up a tent without rain falling.

Found car troubles again;  my radiator fan runs continuously.  I pulled the fuse and will get the fan fixed when I get home.  I'll let the dogs sleep in the tent to get out of the bugs.

When I awoke, the rain was falling and the wind was blowing.  The lake is rough.   I decided to stay in bed until 9 am.

It's a very quiet morning in camp. No one is around except the people who work in the marina.  I worked the dogs waiting for the water to settle down.

The water looked like it settled down around 3 PM.  I went out on the lake and left the dogs in camp.  The water is very rough out here despite the look.  I took a run around Kalispel Island to find deep water.  The only deep water I found in the area was straight off of camp.  I pulled a flasher and Priest River fly for approximately 15 minutes which was long enough to take a wave over the back end of the boat and lose my hookup and flasher.

I returned to camp to find that Rad had slipped his collar.  When the wind dies the bugs come out in force.  Poor Nuke is bleeding at the eyes from the bug attack.   I took the dogs in early for shelter from the bugs.

May 19
Friday

Priest Lake, Idaho
Not a cloud in the sky this morning and it's freezing cold outside.  The dogs' water dish is covered with ice.  Maybe the cold will kill the bugs.  I'm going to kill that owl.  I'm going to wait in my warm sleeping bag to see what affect the rising sun has on the wind and the lake.

The sun rise is beautiful, the lake is calm, the breeze is slight.  I fished the famed "Mac Alley" from ~6 to 8 am with Rad before breakfast.  After breakfast, I fished from ~10 to noon until it got too hot for Rad on the water.

Now I'd paid my dues and was ready to catch a fish.  I stayed in camp until I saw a guide go out from the marina.  When I spotted one around 3 PM Nuke, Rad, and I took hot pursuit.  We followed the guide to the west side of Baratou Island.  Here I watched him pick up 2 Macs while I got skunked.   I'll try a new strategy in the morning, scrape the bottom.

The cold night did nothing to temper the bugs in the evening.  We retired to the tent early to escape the bugs.

May 20
Saturday

Priest Lake, Idaho
I stayed in my warm sleeping bag until the sun was fully up.  Another beautiful, clear, calm morning. The owl didn't wake me up last night.  I guess you can get used to anything; I can't wait to get used to the bugs and rain.

Nuke, Rad, and I were fishing by 6.  I applied the new strategy and literally drug my downrigger ball on the bottom at 160-170 ft.  It happened, the ultimate big mac attack.  One after another I caught three Priest Lake mackinaw.

First (8:30), I caught and released a 27" (~8 #) makinaw; this mac was within the slot limit requiring release.  The poor mac was bug-eyed and bulged from being hauled up from 170 feet.  I struggled for at least a half hour to make the fish swim.

Second (9:30), I caught and kept a 23" (~4 #) mac for long awaited camp meat.

Third (11:15), I caught a 24" (5 #) mac.  After struggling for half an hour to make the fish swim down, I gave up and added the fish to my bag.

All of the macs were caught right on the bottom in 160 to 170 feet of water with a black/white/yellow flashabou Mark's Fly tipped with worm and saturated in Baitmate Shad oil towed behind a #0 herring dodger.

I now had more mac then I wanted (my two macs), and I sure hoped that it was good eating fish.

I had fresh barbecued Mac for lunch, YUCK!!!!  I'm surprised that the dogs would even eat it.  That's it, I guess I'll go home.  The fishing is good; but, the fish is bad; to catch them is to kill them.  I think I'll nap.

May 21
Sunday