We are not early starters apparently, but after some coffee, grits and oatmeal we set out at late morning with a daypack. Just lunch stuff, fishing gear and rainwear; we are traveling light, built for speed to ensure a successful mission to infiltrate Canadian waters. You can We quickly arrive at the portage into Horse. And the girlfriend hoists her canoe and makes it about 3/4 of the way. Older child brings the canoe the remainder of the way. Perhaps at this point we should have taken this as a sign of troubles to come, but we are determined and set off up Horse Lake. As we come around the first narrow and enter the long section of lake we encounter a stiff southern wind. The command boat, with the lighter child in the bow, behaves more like a paper boat in whitewater than a seaworthy vessel, being blown first to one side, then the other until we run ashore. We realize that despite spending a tremendous amount of effort, we have only travelled a short distance. Unable to make headway, and after a brief struggle with ego involving another attempt at progress, the expedition is halted, and we return to the point behind which there is calm water. We spend the afternoon fishing there, but have no luck. We're not sure if its time of day, or simply not a great location, but we head back to Tin Can Mike, slightly defeated.

However, youth being what it is, plans form on the paddle back to camp. An innocent request to the girlfriend to paddle closer to some cliffs so he could "see something." A few minutes later and his true purpose was revealed, we were going to witness some cliff jumping. A few minutes spent probing his landing area, and he was given the all clear. This might have earned me a few disproving glances from the girlfriend, but she was a good sport and paddled back to get a better view. Then we had to spend a few minutes finding appropriate sized rocks for the younger one to jump from, because nothing his brother does can go unmatched.

After we return to our camp, the younger boy asks to be ferried over to a point across from camp to try fishing. He and I head over. He quickly starts having luck catching small sunfish, and I move down the shore seeing if anything larger is lurking. A bit later another largemouth is landed. Contemplating giving up on my insistence on only eating walleye, I'm debating bringing this one back to camp when it gives a good thrash that surprises me, getting itself back into the water and settling the decision for me. It is at this point that I notice a freshening breeze and hear the girlfriend calling. Dark clouds are moving in on us quickly and I realize that while we are only 50 yards from camp, I made a severe error in leaving with no raingear for either of us. A slightly frantic paddle to return to camp, we miss the landing area in the strong wind. By the time we get turned around for another attempt, the brief rain shower has passed by, leaving calm water but a boy who would like to be off of it for a while.