We slowed down and followed the caravan of four vehicles off the gravel road to the right. Anyone who didn't know the way would have missed the turnoff which was really just a break in the trees with some tire tracks going through. It was 2:00 p.m. and we had arrived at the off-loading area. From here, it would take the two Honda Foreman 400 quad's to haul our boats and gear to the lake - another 3.5 km over a trail hacked out of the evergreen forest. From there, it was a matter of a twenty minute boat ride to reach the island we would call home for the next four days.

My good friend Gene had graciously invited me on this trip (actually, I think none of his family or other friends could make it, so he was stuck with me) and I jumped at the chance. Gene is a veteran of many fishing trips over the years and I had never been on one that promised to be of this caliber. My fishing experience to date was day trips, to the mudholes, err … lakes I mean, around Edmonton, and certainly not for any trophy fish. In late April Gene`s cousin, Vic Lutter, had called and invited him on a fishing trip to the unspoiled vastness of northern Saskatchewan. Both Gene and I were truly grateful for the opportunity and look forward to next year, but I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I?

We drove to Goodsoil Sask. and bunked out at Vic and Bev's. It was at fine bed and breakfast they provided, and I would like to express my appreciation to them both. We wasted no time the next morning and were on the road by 6:00 a.m. After a couple of brief stops all nine fishermen were rounded up and off we went.

From Goodsoil we clocked 495 km north and east to Costigan lake, with gravel road the last 270 km. Now, that gravel is extremely hazardous to drive on; our party had one flat tire and one boat trailer had the Bearing Buddies knocked off by flying rocks (thank god we were able to find an empty beer can to tape on to the hub!). But, definitely the worst was that parched throat sensation from all the dust, which could only be relieved by cool liquids, which were thankfully not too far away at any time.


As a matter of fact, Gene and I were following our newly met fishing buddies, the father and son duo of Lyle and Les Moore. Often, we wondered if we would ever make it to our destination before dark, what with their frequent stops to drain the weasel and reach for another cool one. Lyle, Les, Gene and I were the rookies on this trip. Because of that common ground, we struck a friendly chord very soon; little did any of us know what this would eventually lead to.

It didn't take long to have camp set up that afternoon. Why, we even had time for some evening fishing. The veterans sent the rookies to a spot nearby to get our hooks wet It wasn't long before we had caught some nice 2 to 4 pound jacks both trolling and casting. Of course, we didn't keep anything at that point, but it sure did get us in the spirit for the days ahead.

We got back to camp to join everyone around the fire. Naturally, the talk was about fishing. with the veterans picking their spots for the morning and deciding who should pair up with the rookies. We also discussed "The Pool", a friendly competition for the biggest trophy (by length) with a category for northern pike and another for lake trout. This was also the night I was first introduced to the card game "Kaiser". Now, I am usually a fairly quick study when it comes to cards, but I will admit to being baffled by this game the entire weekend. I think it sums it up to say that the object of the game was to team up in such a way that everyone picked on the youngest member of the group, Gary Lange.

Gary is the son of a Goodsoil regular who couldn't make it this time, so he sent Gary as his replacement. Although, to hear the veterans talk about Gary's dad, the guy was irreplaceable. Why, according to Albert Eckel, Don Lange, Gerry Ford, and Vic, this guy would cut all the firewood, clean all the dishes, cook all the meals, fill the boats with gas every night and just generally keep everything in tip top shape! So, needless to say. Gary had some big shoes to fill. Luckily he had his elders giving him lots of encouragement. As Don Lange (not really related, but kind of) said, "it's not just criticizing, it's constructive." Gary was a great sport about it the whole time, although he did seem to take obscene pleasure whenever he beat anyone at Kaiser, which was about his only revenge available the entire weekend.

The next morning, Friday, we awoke to a clear but slightly hazy sky, which was to be the weather we enjoyed the entire trip. Unfortunately l overslept that morning, so l had to rush to grab some breakfast and hop in the boat. I quickly learned the lesson that when it was time to go fishing these guys were serious! Also, when a guy slept in he was immediately fair game for any and all comments about working the evening shift and being left behind to start supper (you were kidding, right Gene?).

After a 20 minute boat ride, we pulled into a series of little bays which would become some of our favourite territory over the next three days. During the ride both Gene and l became quite lost passing island after island and winding through narrow channels with sandbars. The terrain seemed quite identical at first with few distinguishing landmarks, it was only towards the end of` the trip we were able to notice the subtle differences in the shoreline and recognize certain islands in the little corner of the lake we explored.

The water was only a few feet deep in this part of the lake. but l was informed it was prime jack territory. Vic and Don were in one boat while Gene and l shared his Zodiac. During the course of the morning Gene caught two 13 pound Pike, l caught one 13 pounder (the biggest of my life to that point), and we both caught a1/2 dozen more ranging from 3 to 10 pounds! We could not believe the fish we were throwing back! We had been instructed not to keep anything on the first day (pike that is) unless it was a minimum of 40 inches long, so we practiced catch and release. lt sure felt strange to let those fish go. Needless to say it was an exciting morning as the fish put up a mighty struggle each and every time, whether big or small.

The action got especially frantic when the 1st of Gene's big ones broke a hole in the net and slipped back into the lake. There we were, with dumbfounded looks on our faces, me with the net and Gene with his rod playing the fish while we snaked the rod and reel through the hole in the net, swearing to beat the band the whole time. We all met on a beach for a shore lunch, and compared fish stories. So far no one had caught the big one, but everyone had experienced their share of action.

The afternoon was spent trolling for lake trout, which was an entirely different strategy. Vic took us to deep water (30 to 70 feet) off an island dubbed Vic's Island. We never got the whole story on how it got it's name, just some vague references about someone being marooned on it for most of a day once. We would troll with our lures at a depth of 10 to 20 feet. With Gene's fish finder we could always see the depth and spot how deep the fish were, but that was still no guarantee they would bite. However, before long I did get a bite and was able to land my first lake trout ever. This was certainly a trip for firsts! Shortly after, Gene landed a nice laker, (see how fast I pick up on this lingo!) so we had two keepers to take back the first day. We had decided to keep all the trout as they were less plentiful and harder to catch than the jacks.

We returned to camp well satisfied and enjoyed a hearty supper. I immediately noticed one of the veterans, Gerry Ford (he didn't have any secret service men on the trip with him, unless that was Albert's job) had an extremely red face and seemed to be having speech problems. Even so, he sure did seem to be enjoying himself After awhile someone let on that Gerry had been looking for some water to mix with his whiskey and one of his good buddies had pointed to a plastic jug on the table. Gerry poured a little mix and had a sip, but it still tasted strong, so he poured in some more.

Wouldn't you know, it wasn't really water, it was "Vic's Water", 190 proof water that Vic had brought along (I didn't see Vic drink any, hmmm). In that one glass Gerry had enough booze for the entire night! … for three people! After an enjoyable evening comparing stories and watching the ever confusing Kaiser, we turned in. As I dozed off I was determined not to sleep in the next morning. I didn't.

Early Saturday morning, we tried a different part of the lake and met up with Lyle and Les. We all decided to try the productive spot from yesterday and, after a few wrong turns, managed to find our way there. Les was the first one to catch his trophy, a nice 15+ pounder! He was so excited he invited us over for some peach schnapps and beers to celebrate. He was one happy fisherman and announced he was going to have this one mounted when he got home. Then it was my turn for a good one as I tied into the biggest jack of my life. It was 15 lbs. 3 oz and 39 ½" long. I was so happy I kept that one too. Then it was Lyle's turn. He tied into a 17+ pounder, 40 ¼" long!

Well, somehow our boats ended up tied together as we enjoyed another schnapps and a few more beers. When the schnapps was gone, Les pulled out a 66 oz. bottle of vodka from somewhere, and more beer! Les had a beautiful fishing boat with a livewell and all the gadgets. But, when you looked in the well there were no fish, only beer, schnapps and vodka, nicely chilled with freshly pumped lake water. Unfortunately at this point my recollection of the rest of the afternoon gets a little hazy, I must have gotten sunstroke or something (note to self; keep dorky hat on head while on the lake next time).

I do have memories of a boat clearing brawl, where everyone ended up in the water and my glasses ended up on the bottom of the lake. It was just as well, as I seemed to have trouble focusing at that point anyway. The only problem was my spare pair were back at camp, so l had to fish by Braille for the rest of the afternoon. I do recall how I ended up in the lake though, I reached out a hand to help Les back in the boat and the next thing I knew I was in the drink. You see, Les tips the scales at 315 lbs., while I am a svelte 195. You don't have to be a physicist to figure out which body was at rest and which was in motion!

Thankfully Vic and Don showed up to guide us back to camp as I know we couldn't have made it on our own. As a matter of`fact, Lyle and Les stopped to have a bath at a sandbar and actually did get lost. We were going to send out a search party, but a guide from Red's Camp (a fly-in camp) was kind enough to show them the way back. I don't know that the guide appreciated having interlopers on "their lake", but he was kind enough to help a guy in trouble - for the pick of` a lure out of Les's tackle box. Les and Lyle were definitely in trouble that afternoon and pretty well out of gas. They managed to cripple in with Les tipping the gas tank to get at the last few drops. Needless to say the four of us partyers were feeling the effects of the sun that evening so it was an early night. The veterans cast knowing eyes our way as they had seen these symptoms before and knew that sleep was the cure.

Sunday morning, our last day of fishing. All the sun stroke victims from the night before recovered quite nicely and were feeling no ill effects (i.e. hangovers). Although, young Gary seemed to be a little slow crawling out of his bag that morning - I wonder if he had had any of "Vic's Water"? Once again we ended up back at the jack flats in the morning, but fished trout in the afternoon, Vic tied into what turned out to be the biggest trout of`the trip, it must have taken him 45 minutes to land it! Luckily Don was critisi... errr, I mean encouraging him the entire time, standing there with the net in his hands. Gene and I caught two and had them landed during the time Vic was playing his one! Playing with his trout, I mean… errr, landing his fish to be more specific, oh. never mind. All together the four of us caught eight trout that afternoon, which was very satisfying.

Gene hadn`t gotten his trophy jack yet, so we spent the late afternoon hack in our favorite spot to try again. He did get another decent sized one at 13+ pounds, but unfortunately not the pool winner. Stop crying Gene, we did get an invite back for next year, so you'll have another chance.

Back at camp Lyle (northern Pike) and Vic (lake trout) received their pool winnings, some more Kaiser was played and stories were told. Vic was sure happy that the pool money stayed in Saskatchewan to help the local economy and didn't end up in the foreign land bordering on the west. We'll have to see if next year we can't bring that windfall back to Alberta.

Monday morning was real simple, pack up quick and get the hell out of Dodge. The trip home was again delayed by flat tires, this time on Albert`s new truck! One of his new tires was pretty much destroyed as the sidewall blew apart. While he was fixing that one we noticed another one had a hole in it too. Luckily Don had a plug kit so they were able to make it to the town of Pinehouse Lake for repairs. Actually, I think it was Albert's way of getting Gary into Pinehouse for a date!

Again, my thanks to the regulars for having us along. It was an incredibly relaxing experience and the company and the fishing were first class all the way. I'm already looking forward to next year!