(Not so) Humble brag right here, Ive caught so many smallmouth that my Iphone will no longer accept my thumbprint. In this, Ive realized IPhone thumbprints don’t work with working hands, yet all of America has the latest Iphone. Show me a man with a flip phone and it shows you a workingman.    We woke up early this morning for two mid-vacation millennials and went back to newly named ‘Pike Bay’. By now we have given up on finding the walleye in this lake, and have had our fun with smallies, so today we will be northern fishermen. We drifted through the bay five or more times and by the end of the morning hooked into around 10 small northerns, nothing over 25”. Half surprisingly, we didn’t stumble into any smallmouth either. It was hot out this morning, not a cloud in the sky and no breeze on the lake. By 1:00 the canoe was acting as a UV mirror and we were both crispy from the sun and ready to go back in. We had scouted some fire wood on beaver island (there were 2 beavers asserting that it is THEIR island by slapping their tails as we drifted by each time) and went there to chop some wood for tonight, and stock up enough to leave some for hover is lucky enough to find this site after us. I love the humble tradition of leaving wood by the fire for a tired paddler, or food in the cabin for a lost wanderer; to me no human act is more pure. I get my first burn of the year walleye fishing on memorial day so it is only fitting the last skin burn of the year comes labor day fishing. After a day like today it is hard to believe fall is right around the corner. It was a great afternoon for a bath and to play with our chipmunk friends who, by now, have become pretty domesticated. We left a handful of trail mix out for them and watch as they run about collecting the peanuts and M&M’s. 

I feel like we are finally starting to sync with the areas rhythms, but sadly it is too late. We are smart by now about our secret night small mouth bite so we didn’t put the canoe in until 45 minutes before sunset. Waiting for the surfacing of the smallies, we tossed a couple lures and Seth hooked into a big northern. On the attempt to net it, we realized that the northern was too big to fit into our net (note to self, if you are portaging a net portage a big one). The northern jumped next to the boat and shook the hook. No nice northern pictures to post, I guess you will just have to take this ol’ fisherman’s word for it again. 

Then, there they were. We rowed 25 yards right up next to where the smallies began surfacing. They smashed the shad raps, we couldn’t help each other net and unhook because we were getting doubles left and right. Then, all too quick, the 15 minutes was up. Thanks for the fun smallies; this will be a spot I will tell stories about for the rest of my life.