Sunday morning I creaked out of my tent unhappy with my decision to leave my sleeping pad behind. It was a decision I would become more unhappy with each night/morning.

I put together a breakfast menu for our first two mornings and figured we could empty our trail mix bags and polish off our granola bars on the final morning, which would precede our paddle for home.

Sunday morning pancakes were on the menu. I used a basic camp recipe of add-water-only pancake mix and instant oatmeal in a baggie, to which we added water to make batter. Cut a hole in the corner and squeeze batter into frying crisco and you get one heck of a nice, hot breakfast.

That got us ready for an active day of adventure -- a paddle up to Warrior Hill and the pictographs. What I was most excited about were the prospects of our first shore lunch of the trip and my first in a couple years. For some in the group it would be their first ever.

We packed a bag with the skillet, a filet knife, the Crisco, the Shore Lunch mix and the one-burner stove. But I was a little worried the main ingredient would be missing.

We pulled out west from our camp and as soon as we rounded a point to head north we had our first action. Lucas, the most unlikely contributor, had hooked a walleye but failed to set the hook and it was gone before we boated it. But within minutes of me trolling him past a nice-looking spot 20 feet from a rock wall that was sure to be adjacent to deep water Lucas had another strike.

He got this walleye on the stringer this time and we were hopeful for the day. Not more than a minute later his perch Husky Jerk had hooked into another walleye. Lucas 2, group 0. Maybe a minute later and Lucas had his third.

I didn’t have a line in the water yet as I was making sure to keep Lucas trolling through the fish. Lucas was the newbie after all and I was enjoying watching him carry the team.

The group contributed a walleye, two northerns and a smallie and we had more than enough for lunch if my rusty fish-cleaning skills didn’t massacre the main course.

We stopped on a picturesque rock island on the way to Warrior Hill. From there we could get a nice vista from one side of the island and – looking north – could see the forest fire on the Canadian side. We pumped water, Troy got the Crisco sizzling and I got to work on the fish. I hadn’t Y-boned a northern in about 10 years and failed miserably on patient 1.

I lost some good meat in surgery but we had enough for a good meal and my fillet work improved as the trip went on. We ate and hiked to the other side of the island for some spectacular scenery and a group photo that unfortunately didn’t turn out well (self-timer screwed up the focus; those pine needles are in perfect focus!).

Soon we were heading north to Warrior Hill and then the pictographs. We got a kick out of the international boundary marker and stopped for some R and R on a sandy beach before the long paddle back. When we got back near camp we fished some more and soon had a mixed bag for a nice fish dinner, this time accompanied by some instant mashed potatoes. Great dinner. Well done, Troy.

We sipped some cocktails and watched the brightest star we had ever seen. We’d seen some great displays in our 35 years on Earth but this was the best. Not a cloud in the sky – much like the day. We were spotting shooting stars, satellites, constellations … even Mars.

A great day but a tiring one. We got to sleep in no time – even those of us with sunburn and no sleeping pad – ready for the next day’s trip to Iron.