With conditions similar to yesterday, I once again am forced to put on my fleece and vest. It is 5:00am and the only sounds I hear are those of a few birds chirping in the brush. Other than that there is complete and utter silence, the likes of which I haven’t heard since the last time I was up here 4 years ago. A nice change. After a quick breakfast of apple-cinnamon oatmeal, I slip the canoe into the water and head across the lake. Not a ripple on the water, it is 100% peaceful at this time of morning. I almost feel guilty for ruining the reflection on the water with each cast. After working my way down the shoreline for a half hour, I finally tie into a nice 21” walleye using the same spoon and leech combination as the previous night. I quickly throw him on a stringer, release the anchor, and continue to work the same area. With no more action, I move on, drifting across the channel toward a point that looks as though it extends nicely into the water, a good possibility for walleye habitat. Only 40 feet off shore, I am surprised to see that the fish finder indicates a lake depth close to 90’. In addition to this, large schools of fish appear to be suspended at 40, 60, and 70’. I quickly forget about my prospective walleyes and change to a black feathered quarter ounce jig and leech in hopes of bringing in a laker. After about a half hour of jigging and drifting out of position being that I am by myself, my patience runs thin and I decide to head back to the campsite. In the words of Arnold however……“I’ll be back.”

By the time I get to the site it feels as though it is time for lunch. I am quickly informed that it is only 8:15am. Being that this is the first year that I have taken fishing so seriously up here, I am not used to utilizing the entire day’s sunlight. Despite the time, I make some cup of noodles anyway and head over to a back bay full of lily pads at the other side of our site. This time I put on a white and gold mepps spinner in hopes of getting a couple of good-sized smallies. It only takes one cast before I have a nice smallmouth on shore. These fish sure are the toughest fighting fish pound for pound up here. Surprisingly, this is the only smallmouth that seems interested this morning and I turn my direction towards a section of water off the point. Three more casts and I feel a big hit on my line. Definitely no smallmouth. I get the nice size northern halfway in when it throws the hook. Damn those bony mouths! I am further displeased when I get snagged on a rock less than 10 feet from shore. It is always more frustrating when you can see your lure hanging on to that rock looking, almost seemingly laughing at you in the most subtle jesting manner. I quickly hop in the canoe and get unsnagged from offshore and continue to fish the point. In the meantime a group of kayakers passes by and offers us a nice 28” northern that they have just caught. Being that it’s their last day on the water they will not need it for eating purposes. We eagerly take it. Fresh walleye and pike for dinner tonight!

By this time my brother is up from his slumber and excited to experiment with his new fish finder. There seems to be little else electronically that a computer science major can tinker with in this remote wilderness. I inform him of the congregation of lake trout discovered earlier in the morning and we’re soon in the canoe heading once again across the lake. Sure enough, the lake trout are at the exact location as earlier in the day. This time I make highly exaggerated jigging motions with my trusted silver spoon and leech as I had read to do in Furtman’s “A Boundary Waters Fishing Guide.” My brother holds the canoe steady. After three minutes I suddenly feel as though I have caught a snag as I pull up on my line. Highly unlikely I think to myself, considering we are stationary and in 90 feet of water. Then my spool goes off as though it’s possessed. This is by far the hardest pulling fish I have ever encountered…..Ever. My heart races as we go back and forth between him running and me reeling. Since we were reluctant to bring a landing net, I quickly decided that I would have a better chance landing the fish from shore. I was already out of the boat before my brother could say, “holy shit is that him!” I look down towards the submerged rocks where I finally see the exhausted lake trout. God save me if I lose this fish I think to myself. My heart doesn’t stop pounding until I have secured the trout to the back of the boat with more knots that I can count on one hand. My first lake trout that I have ever caught measures 13lbs. and 31”. I have succeeded at my one mission this trip: to catch a lake trout. Everything else could go wrong the rest of the vacation for all I cared; I had accomplished what I had come here to do. That night we ate lake trout with fettuccini alfredo and fresh green beans. We don’t seem to be the only ones benefiting from the days catch either. It hasn’t taken the gulls and bald eagles long to locate the fish remains we had laid out on the rock off our campsite. Tomorrow we will move further east down the lake towards boundary point.