We headed through Ima to Thomas so I could begin the long road from beginner to master trout fisherman.

Anthony, here more than happy to strike a pose! (Disclaimer: I take full responsibility for the frame pack, any other glaring inefficiencies standing in the way of a streamlined fashionable BWCA travel style, but we made it work and could do all our portages in a single trip!)

Tragedy struck that day in a form I least expected. We decided to do try some trolling for trout. With our line out and us gently moving along, Anthony suddenly says "I could learn to love this." Other fisherman begin moving into the area and then I hang up on a rock. No big deal, so we start to turn the canoe around slowly and then bang, I see the line shoot up the rod towards the rod tip! I sense all my line and lure is gone forever when magically a tiny knot is tied around one of the last eyes and holds tight. I grab the line, and hopeless amateur I am, start putting it in the bottom of the canoe in a big pile. Well that big pile becomes a big knot and we had to pull to a campsite to fix it. I'm in the right place. I know how to get down to the fish. Other people are working the same area, when I hear just the happiest guttural "Yeah!" come from out across the lake. I know what the guy's got, so I work harder at the knot. Not much more than five minutes later I hear "I got another one!" I think I'm going to die now, and irrationally I consider chewing the knot to pieces with my teeth. Well, that knot took two days of my precious time before I gave up on it, and we left the spot, me pouting. Through Fraser up to Kekebabic, we really got into a groove, and covered lots of ground. The weather was relativey nice and Anthony really loved, loved, loved the change from flat to granite cliffs landscape. Kek was gorgeous, the stars came out that night, and Greg was game for some cliff diving.