Our second day in Quetico would be a side trip to Blackstone Lake on a bright, sunny day. After a first class breakfast we loaded the canoes with fishing gear and picnic supplies and headed west towards Blackstone via a winding, sheltered passage which began not far from our campsite. Much of the journey was in a shallow creek which ran through a relatively flat, boggy area and as near as we could determine the route was about four miles in length.

There was a ton of submerged and emergent aquatic vegetation including a couple of different species of water lily, many of which were in bloom.

The paddling was easy but there were four portages en route...

And three lift-overs where beavers had been busy......

We did see one beaver swimming ahead of us, a first for Elissa, but it submerged before I could get a camera on it. We kept watching for moose, trying to be quiet when approaching bends and open areas, but saw none. We did see this guy.....

Who was enjoying the sun so much that he was loathe to slide back into the chilly water and allowed us to get pretty close.

We did not see any moose, but they may have seen (or heard) us. On one of the portages we found tracks which looked pretty fresh, and the splay makes me think it was on the run. Maybe we pushed it ahead of us?

We arrived at Blackstone Lake in the early afternoon and immediately headed to a small island not far from our entry point for a picnic lunch. After our sandwiches disappeared we caught a few small SMB by casting from shore, found a good blueberry patch where we collected a baggie full, and the girls took a swim. I left the swimming to them, the water was too chilly for this Florida boy (water temperature at home on this day was approximately 91)

After lunch we left Picnic Island (our name) and fished for about an hour and a half around a submerged reef that we found nearby, catching 15 or 20 small SMB and a couple of northerns including this one that Elissa took on a crank bait, and which at 28 inches ended up being our largest of that species for the trip.

Berkley Gulp leeches on jig heads were deadly on the SMB. Byron and Stacey talked to a group in two canoes that were fishing along the northern shore and discovered that they were camped further down the lake, and that they’d just landed a nice lake trout but otherwise hadn’t had much luck.

With four water miles, four portages and three lift overs standing between us and our camp we opted to depart Blackstone by mid-afternoon for the return trip. Maybe because it was downhill, or maybe because we were now familiar with the landings and trails, or maybe because we were gaining a little experience, the return trip went faster than the inbound trip by at least an hour. None of the portages were difficult in length or elevation, though one of the trails crossed a rocky creek where the footing was a little dicey for someone carrying a canoe. In any event we made it back to our base camp on Saganagons in plenty of time for supper, which was a good thing because Byron had planned the main course to be fish stew, and we had kept no fish. Not thrilled with the prospect of fishless fish stew, Elissa and I undertook the task of catching supper while Byron and Stacey went ashore and prepared to make dinner. Fortunately the fishing gods smiled and within a hundred yards of the campsite we were able to catch a fair sized northern and enough 12 inch SMB to make our stew, which we later enjoyed immensely while recovering from a day which had included many miles of paddling, eight portages and six liftovers. By the way, while we were fishing for our supper Elissa hooked a really nice walleye which I managed to lose for her at boat side while trying to grab it, much as I’d lost her largest lake trout the day before. When I told her that we’d count it as a “caught fish” since I’d had my hand on her leader she forgave my clumsiness. While our team was fishing Byron and Stacey discovered a good patch of blueberries near the tents and were able to gather a couple of handfuls to go with those we’d picked at lunchtime. After dinner, with full bellies and while enjoying our ritual post-dinner s’mores, we thought that maybe we were getting the hang of this northwoods stuff.