Our trip north had been thankfully uneventful, with no flats or other breakdowns. We did meet Albert Eckel, one of last years veterans, and his crew on their way out. Someone in his convoy was having tire trouble, which is no surprise at all on those brutal gravel roads. The only good thing about the rigorous drive up to the lake is that it keeps the less adventurous at home, leaving Costigan to those interested in a challenge just to get there.

I would also like to take a moment at this point to acknowledge all those involved in the arduous task of surveying and building the quad track into the lake. Without their efforts, none of us would have had the extreme pleasure of this, or other trips. Vic was sharing with me on the drive up how difficult it was just to find a passable trail to the lake, with many failed attempts before the right path could be found. Then began the extremely difficult task of clearing the bush on the way to the lake. All I can say is that those who go nowadays owe those who cleared the way a huge debt.

Unfortunately, it is almost too good a road now, as we pulled up to the shore where the boats are launched, low and behold if someone hadn't driven their 4 x 4 pickup in that far! What next, a pier? I guess the only bright side is that it's a huge lake where you can fish the entire day and not see another soul if that's your desire, or it's easy enough to find your buddies for shore lunch once you get the lay of the lake.

Now I had said that there were no problems on the drive up, this is not to say the boys did not have any problems on the lake. It seems Pat figured his boat was the Titanic, because he had launched it, loaded it up with gear on shore, and shoved off to begin the ride to camp, when he noticed it was a little low in the stern. He had forgot to put the plug in!!

Unfortunately, George did not have the video camera running because it was a $10,000 prize winner for sure. First Pat tried to find the plug and then move the gear to stop the leak, but he quickly gave that up and decided the best alternative was to paddle back to shore, and then when he got close enough he jumped in to pull it the rest of the way.

Needless to say Pat was relieved his trip was not cut short, and we did not spend the rest of the trip performing a salvage operation. Luckily the only item that was wet at all was the piece of luggage at the bottom of the boat, right at the back, which just happened to be Gene's sleeping bag! I say lucky because it could have been much worse, it could have been my sleeping bag!

Camp was mostly set up as Gerry had been in with Albert's crew the previous week, and was also staying with us for our trip. Oh, to be retired and have the freedom to do whatever strikes you at the time! It was a simple matter of pitching tents and grabbing a bite to eat, and shortly we were relaxing by the fire. But it wasn't long before a few eager souls wanted to do some fishing, so the crowd around the fire thinned out considerably. And, wouldn't you know it, Wally caught a jack that first night that was bigger than the pool winner from last year! And Wally was sure a good sport about the fact that the pool didn't start until 8:00 AM the next morning, it just meant that we had to eat that one so he could still try for a trophy that could qualify.

After all the boats were ashore there were a few stories around the fire, then everyone drifted off to bed after a long tiring day. All except our friend Deep Woods that is. It seems George likes to stay up late around the fire and burn a weeks worth of wood each night. I had explained to George that he built himself a white man's fire, but he should learn how to build an Indian fire; a white man builds a big fire, has to move back and gets cold, but an Indian builds a small fire and stays close and keeps warm. I don't think George quite had the knack of it by the end of the trip but he always made sure we had embers going in the morning to start the first fire of the day.

Gene wrung his bag out as best he could, but it was still a mighty damp nights sleep that first night. I must say I certainly saw a different side of Gene that night, he was actually nice to me, at least up until he realized I was not about to share my warm space. And then, with a growl, he rolled over and went to sleep. You could tell when he moved though. As soon as a naked body part touched a cold wet (versus warm wet) piece of the bag, a little yelp would ring out, followed by a few curses which are not printable, even on this worthy site.

The weather this year was almost the complete opposite of last year with the entire trip subject to unsettled conditions (don't I sound meteorological?) But, I was glad the wind and rain kept the mosquitoes at a tolerable level. You can always dress for weather, but those damn bugs can sure ruin a good time.