We awoke to drizzle, which made that bag all the nicer to burrow into just a little deeper. Why, even Gene's bag was dry by now, at least dryer than it was outside. But, eventually it was time to get up and take on the day. I reminded myself that a poor days fishing is a hundred times better than a good day at work and my mood brightened immediately. The plan had been to fish close to camp, then have a lunch break, after which our esteemed guide Don was going to take us to a new part of the lake. Well, new for Gene and I anyway. Gene and I started out fishing for lakers in the deep water right off shore from camp with nary a bite. The next thing we knew, all the boys were headed off for the day, with us in hot pursuit.

We had learned last year you didn't want to dawdle for fear of missing the boat, so to speak (good one huh? Boy I crack myself up sometimes, haw, haw, ho, ho … what, you guys don't get it? Never mind, sometimes I wonder why I bother … sigh). From now on I swear I will have my lunch in the boat at all times, because the two of us were some hungry by the time we got back to camp.

Our exploring took us to a little bay, the very same one I described at the beginning of my tale. It so happened that this spot has become our new, favorite jack hole. The fish seemed to bite on just about everything, and it seemed that almost every cast resulted in a bite with some great fish being caught.

It was quite a sight, all five boats drifting around this little body of water, all catching great fish. It was here that Aaron caught a huge one, and set the standard for the rest of us to meet for the rest of the trip. It was 451/4" in length, and weighed 21 lb. 14 oz. The old hands claimed it was the biggest any of their parties had ever caught! We spent the remainder of the morning crossing a series of lakes and trying more jack holes, but none produced as big a specimen as Aaron hauled in.

In the afternoon Gene and I went back to Vic's Island to try to beat Vic's trout. We both agreed that letting Vic win the pool two years in a row would be unthinkable, and we were determined to do our best to stop him. Unfortunately luck was not on our side, we did land some, but nothing that gave Vic anything to worry about.Back in camp that night there were more stories of the days events around the camp fire, although Aaron was rather modest about his jack. More than a few of us that were glad that Vic had not caught a jack that big as we would never hear the end of it!


There was some speculation as to exactly why Don invited Wally along. Wally was of the opinion he was there to push the boat over sandbars. He seemed to spend more time out of the boat than in it. Wally's customary position every night was with his bare feet propped in front of the fire with his boots and insoles by the fire to dry.

I don't think I saw Wally dry the entire trip until we arrived back at the trucks to go home. The only other item of note was an unusual dish served for supper. The hash browns had the distinct flavor of gasoline, so Cameron dubbed them "gas browns". I know I took an extra step back from the fire, just to be on the safe side.