Lakes: Talon, unnamed lake, unnamed lake, unnamed lake, unnamed lake, Dragon, unnamed lake, pond, Upper Kilburn. Travel Distance: 16km. Portages: 9 for a total 2115m.

From Talon Lake we had two choices to get back to Dragon Lake. The southern route involved a 125m portage out of Talon to Boomerang Lake, a paddle down a wide channel and a 375m portage from Boomerang to Dragon. The northern or “scenic” route was 5 portages and a number of small unnamed lakes to Dragon. Albert warned us this route gets little use and he was not sure of the condition of the portages. Well with all that said this was a easy decision and we were soon off on the scenic route. 350m portage north out of Talon was no problem and on to the next portage. After searching the shore, pulling out the GPS, travelling back and forth over where it had to be we finally found it back in the trees. This portage had a number of deadfalls and trees to be ducked under with the canoe. Fairly flat but a challenge with all the obstacles. It also contained an abundance of blueberries and raspberries. It has been a very wet season up here and a wonderful berry crop as a result. It is difficult to stop and pick blueberries while carrying a canoe but impossible for me not to. The return trip is much more productive for eating. We travel thru a number of small narrow lakes and channels eating berries on every portage to Dragon Lake. Here we are to portage north and Albert has warned us this portage is hard to find. “Pretend you are an otter coming up from the lake and look for a little hole in the bush.” WTF. Well we are into a challenge and I have been working on bringing out my inner otter for a while. We get to where the portage should be and even pretending I am an otter it is not evident. Jim and I both disembark and try casting for the portage. As I am crashing thru the bush I here Gary proclaim that we can bushwack over if we like but they are going to take the very obvious portage a few yards over. Deciding the scenic route is not always the right choice we follow. Some more channel paddling, 3 more short portages, and we are on Upper Kilburn, our destination for the night. Check out the western most campsite on an island. Very pretty sight, but as I like to lay more horizontal than vertical we decide to try the 2 sites on the north shore. The first is not usable but the second will do. Not particularly attractive, we have to climb over and move deadfalls to fit out tents in, but the best of the 3 sites on this end of the lake. This was important as I had studied the map and declared that this was prime walleye area with excellent structure. Once camp was set up we headed out fishing. It has started raining lightly but that will not stop us. A couple of hours and a few average pike later we decide we did not have to stay on the west end of the lake but since we are set up we will stay. Jeff and Gary have kept one eater northern and since Jim does not eat fish we decide one more will be great for supper. They direct me to a small stream flowing into the lake just west of camp and confidently assert that as long as I successfully get my lure into the water even I cannot fail to catch that one more fish we need for supper. They are right!! Third cast and supper is provided. I carry a collapsible fishing net that is great for landing big fish for a photo or walleyes for the pan, but I do not like to net northerns especially with treble hooks on. By the time they get done twisting and thrashing around I usually spend 15 minutes getting all of the trebles disentangled from the net. On this trip most pike have been released alongside the boat without removing them from the water, but I have landed many pike, and much larger than this one, by hand. I confidently grasp the pike, raise him out of the water to clear the side of the canoe, and…. He is gone. One powerful thrash, the pike is swimming free, and one of the treble hooks is imbedded in my finger as far as it can go, with no barb in sight. I suggest to Jim that if he should paddle us back to camp as quickly as possible, as he may be more comfortable on dry land than in a canoe with some who may pass out. He gets us back to camp and I discover it is very hard to try to open a snap swivel with one hand when your other hand is attached. Jim cuts the line and helps me and my lucky lure up to camp. At this time I am a little light headed and lay down face up in the rain. Some part of my mind is thinking that while having a hook imbedded in my finger is not good, having the other 5 hooks and lure jiggling every time I move is not good either. I am not sure we can push the hook thru as it is right up to where they come together and I instruct Jim to cut it off so I don’t do more damage. Gary and Jeff make it back and start to assess the situation. It is late afternoon about 6 hours travel time to our vehicle and 2 more hours from there to Red Lake. Besides that would cut our trip short which I am not about to do and I am not sure how the travel would be with a hook in my finger. We decide to see if we can push it thru with the remaining shank. No luck but we do get it pushed all the way in. Now what. Only one option left. WE have to cut it out. “Cut me Gary. Cut ME!!” By using a needle nose to push on the hole where the shank disappeared Gary is able to see where the point is. Using my well sharpened fillet knife he makes a decisive cut. @#$#@#%$##@. That hurt. Gary says“ I think I cut in the wrong spot” Not what I was hoping for. Take two. #$##@#$&^%. It hurt the second time too. But maybe not as bad as the digging around in the cut with the needle nose to extract the hook. A couple of tires and it was done. I retire to the tent to treat and bandage my bleeding finger. As I open the 1st aid kit to get at the antibacterial salve and bandages I have to set aside the sterile scalpel and surgical forceps to locate the needed items. I lay in the tent for a while and holler out for Gary to get me what I need. “One more green peanut M&M please.” It is soon apparent that any guilt he had over that first cut is gone and he has decided that as I owe my life to his quick and decisive action, his need to be at my beck and call has ended. After laying in the tent a while I am feeling well enough to hobble out to the kitchen area and have some pasta. Not quite the glorious day of yesterday but I could be home working.