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Part 4

My engineering background created my system of organization, I have no choice.  All the free tourist information for each of the states I will travel through is neatly filed in a travel file box along with the important stuff like proof of who I am and dog rabies certificates (not for me, for Nuke and Rad).  I have my fishing gear, backup fishing gear, extra fishing gear, and fishing gear that I just might need neatly packed into Tupperware containers; I am a regular rolling Cabelas.  I've got everything one would ever need for fishing, boating, pet care, and camping.  The cracks in the bottom of the boat have been welded. The dogs have been vaccinated for lyme disease and heart worm, and  I am ready!!!!

Symbolically, I have cutoff a pair of my work slacks to make a pair of fishing pants. 

I am leaving in the morning to meet my folks in there motorhome.  We will be caravaning.  My mom might be one of the best mid-western fishing guides alive today; she doesn't fish, but she has lots of ex-boyfriends scattered through the Midwest; and they fish.  I can hardly wait!!!!  Lets go Fishing.

Stayed the night at the rest stop.  My packing system is such that all I need is to set an ice chest, a Tupperware container, and the dog's gear outside of the car, and roll out the mat for some reasonably comfortable sleeping arrangement in the back of my Ford Probe.  Unfortunately the dogs had to sleep on the asphalt; but, they did okay.

We stayed at Spring Creek Camp and Trout Farm.  This is a beautiful grassy and forested spot on the side of the Boulder River. The Boulder River looked treacherous with runoff.  I kept the dogs on leashes to keep them out of it and safe.  To continue on with the family joke, mom sent Big Timber post cards to the rest of the family members.

On the road here, I admired the many Osprey nests along the Clark Fork River from the freeway in passing.  The latter part of the day was hot.   Despite  the air conditioner the dogs got agitated by the hot sun shining through the hatchback glass; it's tough to be black on a sunny day.

It is very hot and very hard on the dogs.  On the road, we all huddle around the air conditioning vents.  Thank goodness there is at least one vent per person or animal as it may be.

We stopped at the lookout over the Bad Lands, North Dakota off of I-94.  Its like a blast oven here.  Through the binoculars we watched a lone Bison and took tourist pictures of our group of adventurers.

We drove on to the rest stop just past Dickinson, North Dakota.  It's a very nice area; but, it's unbearably hot and muggy even at 11:00 pm when I am making this journal entry.  This is a great place to give the dogs a work out with some dummies.   I want to keep writing so it cools down; but, I don't think it will so I'll try to sleep.

Hackensack, not much of a town but a bait store and a big map display touting 90 lakes in a ten mile radius.  The bait store, though pretty typical for the area, is like an aquarium with large tanks of live minnows of every shape and size.

Ten Mile Lake, they told me that this is how far the Indians had to walk to get here.  My Uncle Kenny and Aunt Frieda have a place on Ten Mile Lake.   I've been drooling about fishing here again ever since In-Fisherman published an article about tracking walleye in Ten Mile Lake which include a topographical map with walleye holding areas.  My Uncle, Kenny, hated this article because I was not the only fisherman that the national article brought to his fish haven.

I said that I was here to fish the lake again.  The prior had been some twenty-five years past.  I remember only two things about the adventure.

The first is watching my Uncle Kenny reel in a pike he caught deep drifting a daredevil lure; the fish didn't so much as shake the rod and my Uncle kept saying to us that he was bringing up the bottom.  I have a photo of my brother Kenny and I holding my Uncle's fish to help me hold the memory.  Sorry that the photo is so fuzzy; but, so is my memory.

The second was boating by a dock in my Uncles boat and seeing lots of 9" leaches swimming around; my Uncle kept asking us if we wanted to go water skiing.... I think NOT!!!

My Uncle Kenny had his boat ready for me complete with a dozen nightcrawlers and a dozen leaches.  This was my first exposure to individual boat lifts on the docks.  The storms are so severe in the Midwest that people lift there boats out of the water on boat lifts located next to their docks.  Good idea and convenient.  These guys say you got to have one; it's the only way you can moor your boat out.

Finally, In the evening I was able to wet a line from my Uncle's boat.  I didn't go far;  just off of the nearest point where I saw another fisherman anchored.  I caught and released two rock bass.  I've only caught rock bass in the Midwest.  They look like they are a cross between a crappie and a smallmouth bass.  The locals consider them a trash fish; but, I enjoyed them.  I had driven 1600 miles to catch fish and rock bass are fish, success right off the bat.

I fished until well after dark.  I mastered the boat lift and turned in.   I was anxious to get my boat and gear into the water.

Later in the afternoon the water calmed down enough to launch my boat and fish for a short while.   I trolled a chartreuse Marks lure with a leech on the hook.   I caught and released three large white fish (3-4#).  The whitefish were real scrappy.  I had marked schools of fish 35 feet down in greater than 100 feet of water.  I caught the fish by using my downrigger and trolling a Marks lure at 35 feet down.  I also caught and released 3 more rock fish.   The chartreuse Mark's lure is hot here.

At dinner my mom was disappointed that I didn't keep the whitefish because the livers are a delicacy (you know, tastes like chicken).

I gave the dogs a good swimming workout from the dock.  Nuke has really become dummy greedy and doesn't like to share with Rad.  The flying bugs here are terrible, and they are really bugging the dogs.  I use Purina Insect Repellent Gel for horses on them to give them relief and refuge from the bugs.

After dinner I fished until midnight for walleye without success.  I did what they said you can't do; I moored my boat in the water.  I have 1/2" rope and a 16 # anchor for my 14' boat; this would hold a battle ship.

One of the impressive things about Ten Mile Lake is that fish appear constantly on the fish finder.  Clouds of bait and larger individuals about.  Just watching the fish finder is entertaining.

At lunch, Aunt Frieda informed me that we're out of meat, that I need to stop this dam catch and release and bring back whatever I catch.

Throwing aside my puritan sportsman catch and release attitude, I promptly caught and kept.  In the afternoon I fished the ledge of an underwater point that juts way out into the lake.  I caught a ~3# hammer handle, 5 nice perch, and 2 Rock Bass.  Seems like the only lure that works in this lake is my chartreuse Marks lure.  My Uncle says that the Rock Bass are trash fish; but, what he doesn't know wont hurt him and I kept and cleaned them anyway.  We had plenty of fish for dinner.  My Uncle thought all of the fish was good.  (Note: most Midwestern people think Burbot are trash fish too.)

In the evening, I swam for hours with mom, Nuke, and Rad.  The water here is so soft it feels like silk.  The dogs just love it; feels good to me too.  My mom was wearing a pair of chartreuse watersocks.  Her feet were attacked by a nesting Rock Bass; that darn chartreuse.

During the afternoon, I had a swim with my mom, dad, and the dogs.  I followed that with a nap; tough life.

In the evening at 8 pm, I went fishing with Aunt Frieda and mom in Uncle Kenny's boat.  It was windy and pretty rough; the lee side (the side we were on) is the side that I would have fished; but, Aunt Frieda pointed to the other side of the lake where the wind was blowing into and said that's where we have to go. 

We crossed the lake to the other shore.  When we approached the other shore Aunt Frieda said fish here; so, I let out my chartreuse Marks lure with a night crawler and immediately caught a skinny 22" walleye.  This was the first walleye I had caught on this trip.  The fish hit like a ton of bricks.   When I pulled the fish into the boat, Aunt Frieda jumped on the fish, popped the hooks out of it and threw it into the live well.  I was impressed; what an Aunt to have.

I caught two small hammer handles on that same lure with minnows on it in 18 feet of water.  You could mark the fish over weed beds on the fish finder.  In 12-14 feet of water, I hooked a nice pike on the same lure with nightcrawler on it.  We had to chase the fish cause it stripped so much line.  I guess the fish really woofed the lure and the lure was worn out from catching so many fish, because the lure broke off.   Ode to a good lost lure.

Aunt Frieda caught 2 small hammer handles on a beetle spin.  She got the largest fish trophy by boating a 3# pike that she caught on an old chewed up silver and blue rapala nick named 'ole blue', her favorite plug.

Tomorrow we head out to our destination, northern Wisconsin at Pleasant Lake.

Northern Wisconsin, near Lake Superior and the Michigan upper peninsula border was the birthplace of my parents.  It's the slowest paced area I know of, and I love it.  It has suffered from negative growth, and I love it.  And what I love most is the cabin my grand father built and Pleasant Lake.  Pleasant Lake, a private lake full of Muskie.   What more could one dream about.

Dad and Mom stopped at Mellen, Wisconsin to stay the night with my Uncle Bill.   Not me, I went on to Iron Belt and Pleasant Lake.

I stopped and had dinner at Stubs Tavern in Iron Belt.  This was Bruno's place.  Bruno is long gone; but, I can still remember him insisting that we have beer when we were here as kids (perfectly legal then).  Except for brother Doug, we obliged him.  Doug held out for orange pop.

After dinner, I drove the rough 17 mile road to the cabin at Pleasant Lake.  I hope I didn't break open any welds or crack on the bottom of my old boat.  It's cooler here.   Clouds of bugs.  The cabin is still intact.  I can hear the lake and muskies calling me.  I'm happy and excited.

I've arrived.

Mark's Amazing Adventure Continues