7 am(ish) with Pete rousing Steve and I with a "U da Man, Steve". A little surprise from the chef this morning with an egg bake. Wow! I'm starting to envision an Emeril style show with Steve on set cooking over an over turned canoe. Call the Food Network. Could be big.

Wind is whipping this morning and flurries are on and off. Much debate between the old pros on the plan of action. Pete and Greg convince Steve to take a run through Poacher Lake. Steve starts complaining that Poacher is a dead sea. Greg states that "Pete rarely requests a lake, so he wouldn't be doing it unless he really wanted to fish it." Something is starting to stink. We start on Sunday Lake and after a very slow start, Pete barks first for the green cup. Appropriate, because this will be a Petey day. The wind and lack of Lakers has us heading for Poacher. It is actually a pretty cool way into the lake. There is stream paddling and some lifts over some beaver damns and a short portage or two. Once we are in Poacher, Steve and I start trolling the northwest shore. We both start with hot and tots, but I have zero luck on that as I have had all trip. I switch to my purple and yellow rapala. Hit my first Lake Trout soon after. Splashes are seen from Greg and Pete's canoe as well. We make a wide turn and go back down the shore. Greg and Pete disappear around the bend. It is a little slower today and the wind doesn't help, but I'm landing a few lakers. Steve is switching lures like a bass fisherman.

As the noon hour gets closer, we decide to paddle around the corner and take a run down the southwest shore to the camp / lunch spot. Steve claims, "I bet they haven't caught a thing." At this point I was sitting with about 7 fish and Steve had 2. When we caught up with the boys, they just hooked into a doubleheader, had a full stringer (4 lakers) and claimed about 10 a piece for the morning. I was born at night, but not last night. Steve had been had. Greg and Pete fished Poacher last fall and failed to mention they had better luck on the southwest run than the normal northwest shore. The sheepishly uncompetitive duo pulled one over on the master, Steve. Ham sammys today thru a Jon/Pete effort. No where near the sandwich artist that Steve is, but still an awesome lunch.

After lunch, both Steve and I at different times made a pass by Pete's and Greg's canoe to check out their gear. Pete was still using the Pink and Purple hot & tot. He says he is retiring it after the trip. Hot lures don't retire in my book. They usually end up at the bottom of a lake snagged. Not sure if I have given the official count yet, but another lost lure today makes 6 for the trip. The wind has picked up even more after lunch. We make a couple passes and only manage to land a few more. Pete and Greg have slowed down as well. Back on Sunday we fight the wind and manage to catch no fish in about 90 minutes. I wasn't going to break first, but as soon as Steve said "I think we should...." I agreed. It's Miller time and my ass hurt from the canoe and my back hurt from 90 minutes of battling the wind with no fish. Dinner was excellent as always with pasta and trout both breaded and blackened. Left over brownies for desert was a nice touch. A group effort on wood gave us enough to have a roaring fire from 5 until 11 and enough to supply the next campers with a night of wood. Pete thinks it appeases the fish gods or something. 27 degrees on Eddie before we hit the tents.