Canada in October at Lake of the Woods |
It
was nice in Canada last week, except for the wind. In the sixties for four days,
it abruptly turned cold, with a skiff of snow overnight. When giant Lake of the
Woods has much wind, you have to cross the whitecaps and find someplace that is
sheltered in order to fish. A
fisherman becomes a hunter at such times, hunting a place that has the right
depth and the substrate to hold fish. Last
week I found such a place, a spot I had never fished before. Lots of fish in 30 feet of water, most
of them good-sized yellow perch, averaging twelve inches long. But the walleye were there too, and we
feasted on walleye filets one afternoon that were as good as fish can get.
Of
course before I found that sheltered spot, I wasted some time in less
productive places. But in Canada
in early October, every place you find is beautiful, with spectacular foliage
and not one piece of litter to be seen. You cannot get back in the secluded
waters of that giant lake without wanting to get out of the boat and go
exploring.
My
Labrador, Bolt, enjoyed that exploring as much as I, looking
for grouse and mushrooms and moose tracks. But at one spot, he surged ahead up a narrow game trail and returned in a flash. He retreated to the boat and wouldn’t get out. You could see him saying, “Don’t go up there boss, let’s get out of here and go somewhere else.” He came across the fresh scent of a bear or wolf, I am sure, and he didn’t like the prospects of seeing what he smelled.
for grouse and mushrooms and moose tracks. But at one spot, he surged ahead up a narrow game trail and returned in a flash. He retreated to the boat and wouldn’t get out. You could see him saying, “Don’t go up there boss, let’s get out of here and go somewhere else.” He came across the fresh scent of a bear or wolf, I am sure, and he didn’t like the prospects of seeing what he smelled.
Unfortunately,
the fishing in Lake of the Woods has declined over the last 30 years. Places
where we once landed fish right and left in early October are now just
fishless, and what you catch is about one-half the size of what was once
there. Places where we caught big
fat crappie twenty-five years back have none now. Of course, the guides know of secret places where they can
get plenty of fish for their clients, but if you go to Lake of the Woods now in
October, you will not see anything like what I experienced thirty years
ago. Lots of walleye and northern
pike, but they are small, and fewer crappie and bass.
The
numbers of walleye and crappie you can keep to bring home are low now, and I
think that is a good idea. If fish
numbers anywhere were decimated years ago, it was Americans that made it
happen. Twenty or thirty years ago
we were a greedy bunch, and everyone thought that fishing pressure could never
affect the plenty we found there. Today you
can still catch lots of yellow perch and bring home twenty or so per angler. If
you use light gear, you cannot help but enjoy catching them, and the 12- to 15-
inch walleye found with them.
Yellow perch are as good in the frying pan as walleye, in fact you can’t
really tell which is which when you eat them. I keep the bigger yellow perch and when they are filleted,
you have one nice chunk of meat from each side that can be fried whole, just
like a big bluegill or average-sized crappie.
We
caught a limit of four- to six-pound northern pike and they too are great
eating. But for the color of the
meat, when you eat northerns, you would think you are eating walleye. But they are slimy, and fishermen do
not like to handle them. You need
to find a sand bar, plenty of them in Canada, rub sand all over the pike and
then wash it off. Then the fish is
easy to handle and filet.
But
you have to know how to take a filet, which may be two feet long on an average
pike, and remove the Y-bones down the center. It is simple to do, but it is absolutely amazing how few
fishermen from the states know how to do it. If you do not remove that small strip of Y-bones, the filet
is tough to eat. But when they are
gone, anyone who doesn’t like a northern pike filet has problems with appetite.
This
country in Northwest Ontario is the land of my ancestry, French trappers and
Cree Indians. On my dad’s side,
both his great grandfathers were Canadian French and one grandmother was a Canadian
Cree. As I get older, and I see
the mess this country has become, I feel drawn to that Lake of the Woods
country.
When
I am there, and can retreat to some small cabin that can only be reached by pontoon
plane or hours of portaging, I have no idea what is happening back here in the
U.S. and it is the kind of peace some men yearn for. No T.V., no phone, no computers, just a land where God’s
face never seems to be turned away, where the perfection of natural law has not
changed since the beginning of time.
When
winter comes, with a pair of snowshoes, a man can walk anywhere, even crossing over
miles of frozen water. Build up a supply of firewood, and fill a couple or
three coal oil lamps, and be able to hunt well and fish through a hole in the ice
and you wouldn’t have to worry about who becomes president, nor the kind of
nation a new supreme court will create here.
That
wilderness is too difficult a place for those who live here on entitlements. They
will never be a problem. To survive there you have to work. But I know that if I were there for an
entire winter I could easily write a couple of books that I never seem to get
finished here. While there for
only five days I wrote the final three chapters on a book I am about to
publish.
Sometimes,
seeing the situation we have in the Ozarks, with growing numbers of lazy people
we all have to support, and the law and justice system we have deteriorating by
the year, it seems that Canada’s wilderness is a place where peace can be found
for a few of us… not many. The
Canadian government is far worse than ours, but the people who survive deep in
the bush are folks that live without fear of that government, because they are
out of reach. If I were young and
had no family, I would be there in a heartbeat, and never leave.
The
book I am finishing is entitled, “Little Home on the Piney” and it is the story
of my dad’s life from 1937 when he
was ten years old to 1945, when the war ended. It results from the years I spent listening to him recall
his boyhood on the Big Piney River. It is packed with old photos and artwork. If you enjoyed the book, “Ridge-Runner”,
you will like this one even better.
The first 100 books off the press will be signed and numbered, and if
you want one you can order it for 15.95 and we will pay the postage necessary
to send it to you. I will
personally inscribe those books to you or someone else. They’ll be ready well before Christmas.
My
address is Box 22, Bolivar, Mo. 65613.
Email me at lightninridge@windstream.net. Somehow, I have a Lightnin’ Ridge
Facebook thing that one of my Publishing Company employees set up. Ms.Wiggins, our executive secretary,
keeps it going and shows me reader responses. So if you know what that Facebook nonsense is all about, you
can see that.
Our big fish fry at Panther Creek is Saturday October
22. If you want to come, please
let me know by calling Ms. Wiggins at 417-777-5227.
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