We wake up to a heavy, eerie fog that made the morning seem very quiet, and it’s neat to see the sun slowly burning the fog off as we look down the lake.

As much as we like to trout fish, we didn’t like seeing so many people on Argo, so we decide to just make tracks for Brent. That second morning, there is always a soreness in your arms and shoulders that you haven’t felt in a while, but it returns like an old familiar friend. There is a short portage north into an unnamed lake that leads to Cone, which has a funny property to it: every step is higher than the one before it. It’s neither long nor hard, but it just struck me as how it’s a straight shot upwards. We do the half- miler into Cone, and Brian and Pete tear off eastward down the lake, thinking that the portage is that direction. When Greg and I (who not only have our maps handy but are actually looking at them) start heading to the north shore, they see us, and turn their way back, with some extra paddling under their belt. I would say Cone to Brent is a pretty good challenge because it has some of everything: some vertical on the Cone end, an ankle twisting boulder garden section and a nasty mudhole midway, in which Pete nearly lost a rubber boot. Your reward on the Brent end is a stinky bug-laden mud pit that you want to exit from as soon as possible. When we get into Brent, it was good to think about only paddling for awhile because the portages up to this point on the trip were all a bit harder than I remembered them being (I guess I’m not as young as I once was…). Being in Brent also means that our fishing can finally start in earnest. We string our rods and hit some likely spots, working our way first eastward, then north, then east again as Brent snakes around. We stop for lunch at a nice island campsite on the north-south part of Brent, but decide to move on to see if the big site on the far northeast end is open. We fish our way down the narrows of Brent, getting into some eater-sized walleyes and the occasional northern, but only very few bass. It’s getting breezy again, so we paddle to the campsite we had our eye on. Good news, it’s open! We unload, set up, and relax a bit in the mid- afternoon, enjoying this elevated site’s view over the large bay to the south.

Some weather is brewing as we paddle out to fish, and before long the heavens open. Greg and I are obligated to paddle to a nearby shore since it isn’t feasible to fish in this deluge. Pete and Brian make a similar move around the bend as we wait it out. After the front passes through (an hour or so later), it gets downright chilly and the fishing predictably shuts off. We shake off the cold and paddle back to camp, warming ourselves with the muscle energy of paddling. It’s steaks on the grill and a box of cabernet, but we at least get to see some stars as it clears up around 11pm. Great stargazing spot on the south-facing rock on that site!