Wednesday, August 13, 2014 Wednesday was the longer of our 2 planned day trips. We again packed fishing gear and a light lunch and headed east over to Brule Lake. Tyler, Curt and I had our sights set on Wench Lake and parted ways with Ben and Pete near the portage. It was again windy, almost too much so, but by ducking in and behind the many islands on west Brule and hugging shores through the narrows up to the Wench Lake portage, we made it without problems. It was there that our true adventure began. We like to test ourselves now and then, and we decided that no matter what, we were getting our canoes up to Wench Lake. Simply put, despite it relative short length (55 rods), it was the hardest portage I had ever done. Vertical the whole way, branches at canoe level the entire length, a very rocky and slippery path, and several large blowdowns completely blocked our path on more than one occasion. We knew when we made it to the top that we had tackled something not many people would choose to do, and the sweet smell of victory trumped all tiredness. Wench Lake is a beautiful higher elevation lake with some great cliffs and bluffs overlooking it. While it didn't give up any of its treasures to our rods and reels that day, it was still well worth the trip in and out to reach it. The rock slide on the Brule side of the portage was also spectacular, and was a great resting and picture location. We continued fishing Brule's western bays until early afternoon, but the fish were not cooperative. A single decent sized smallmouths and several smaller ones were all we could muster. Once again defeated by the fishing gods, we went back to South Temperance. Throughout the afternoon and evening we fished hard, hoping not to repeat the previous day's meager dinner. We did not succeed. A second smallmouth was once again added to the take, but that was all. A very strange phenomenon occurred on this evening as well. It was Curt's birthday, and Ben (with inspiration from our resident rapper Pete) came up with a rhyme and beat that only a 39 year old heavy metal loving, never listened to rap music white-collar working male could possibly muster. Needless to say, it was video recorded, and I'm waiting for it to show up on Youtube. However crazy it was, it was well enjoyed by all for both its creativity and uniqueness, and worked to lift our spirits after yet another day of slow fishing. Baffled by three days of unproductive fishing, we could not wait for the weather change coming the next day- when pressure was expected to drop and the winds were expected to change to light and out of the south. After once again ending our night with sky watching, we hit our sleeping bags with renewed optimism.