Trousers Lake-Cache Lake-Cache River

   I woke up in the morning to the sound of rain beating on the tent but buy the time we roused ourselves the rain had stopped. The sky was grey and there was a definite chill in the air. Fortunately for us Mike woke up to an epiphany on how to fix the paddle. Next thing you know he pulled out some zip ties and spare tent stakes. We assembled a collection of duct tape and before I knew it, the paddle was resurrected. The day was saved. Frankenpaddle was born! When we broke camp I went around to inspect for anything left behind and discovered a small dream catcher hanging on a tree in camp. I thought that was kind curious after what had happened with Mike’s recent epiphany. I left it there.

   As we set off toward the portage to Cache Lake Nate dipped Frankenpaddle into the water and propelled the canoe. When it went into the water it made a “kaplunk” sound and as it was pulled out and brought forward it carried a bit of water with it that poured off into the lake and sounded like “shhhhhhhhh”. That sound, “Kaplunk, Shhhhhhh” was going to be heard repeatedly and constantly for the rest of the trip. I can still hear it now as I write this report in January. We certainly were not going to sneak up on any wildlife with Frankenpaddle being used.

   The portage to Cache Lake is a 664 rod walk in the woods. Although it was long in portage standards, it wasn’t all that difficult and we only stopped two or three times to catch our breath. The only real difficult part of the portage is when it crosses the little Cache River. The muck in that part of the portage may be bottomless. It took careful maneuvering of the canoe and footing to keep us from finding out.

   On Cache Lake the rods were set up and shortly after, lures were being trolled behind our canoes. I chose to use a green deep diving crankbait made in the U.P. by RJ Lures that I had recently picked up. I wanted to see how it performed compared to the standard Shad-Rap. Before coming out of the northern portion of the lake my rod bent back and I had a fish on. After a short battle I put a laker in the boat. It was released to live another day.

   As we headed into the bay that leads to another branch of the Cache River, Mike and Chad were on the fish. As soon as I realized it, Nate and I started getting hits. Unfortunately for Greg and Brian B, they didn’t notice us catching fish and continued down the Cache River. Between our two canoes we landed over a dozen lake trout in the matter of an hour. These fish were real shallow and in the weeds. If you could manage to drag a lure for a short while without getting snagged in the weeds it was sure to get a hit. The bites were very subtle and almost felt like the lure was hitting weeds as well, so I’m sure we missed as many fish as we caught.  Since Greg and Brian were out of sight when we reached the end of the bay we decided to give up on the fishing and play catch up.

   The lake narrows into the Cache River, which flows through an open valley lined with evergreens. I had my head down looking at the map when Nate said “Bear”. I missed seeing it, but the rest of the guys spotted a bear standing along the river ahead of us. Greg and Brian B were well ahead of us on the river, stopped at a bridge that would need to be portaged around. When they got out of the canoe, the bear was standing on the trail and took off when they saw it. We are guessing it was the same bear. They also saw a spruce grouse on the other side of the bridge standing on the trail that didn’t seem to mind their presence. When we caught up to them we had a quick lunch of trail mix, summer sausage, and cheese while they told us of their sightings.

   The weather had cleared and blue sky was peaking through the clouds. The Cache River led us into twists and turns of a tag alder jungle that seemed to go on forever. Even with the current on our side it seemed like we were not making any progress. The river travels in a general southwestward direction but I can say most times I checked the compass we were traveling north, south, or east but hardly ever west. Occasionally the paddling through twisting river and constant “Kaplunk-Shhhhhh” of Frankenpaddle was broken up by the sounds of rapids and a short portage. 

   As the river nears Ferguson Lake there is a portage indicated on the map going to the lake. It must not be an obvious or frequently used portage because I never noticed it even though I kept an eye out for it. That said; all of the portages along this river do not appear to be frequently used.

   We were not sure how long it would take us to make it to Kawnipi Lake. A campsite indicated on the map next to a portage on the river (Northwest of Fergkson Lake) was one option. The campsite was not evident when we passed the portage so we pushed on. Unfortunately for us, the sky to the west of us turned dark and stormy. The landscape along the river did not look we would find a dry spot to make camp. With the storm moving in, even scaring off a flock of geese, we decided to turn back and try to make due at the portage. This time we tried even harder to find the campsite but only ended up finding a little garbage that might have been where the campsite was though I doubt it as there was nothing flat to put a tent on. We ended up making due with the flattest ground we could and managed to get the tents and a tarp up before the sky let loose. We had a short dinner feasting on more meat and cheese before retreating to our tents.