Friday, August 21, 2026 Rising from our soggy sleeping arrangements, my fiancée and I got to work on breakfast. She’s quite the wilderness cook, among other outdoors talents, and she whipped up pancakes with brown sugar that her dad described as “something you’d get at the State Fair.” He’s a man who values his breakfast and coffee, so that approval was a ringing endorsement. Coupled with the fact that he stayed dry and slept well, we were off to a great start.

We were off to a sluggish start for the day, and my fiancée advised we send a scouting party to secure a site while the others broke camp. For our party’s pace, this was actually the more expedient option. I took my father-in-law in a canoe and set off to the eastern reaches of Lake Three.

With the water low, things our map showed as islands were actually peninsulas. Combined with my unfamiliarity with the area, this led to us getting way off course. We ended up in Lake Four stuck on the wrong side of a temporary peninsula. We carried our canoe over the gap, figured out our location by comparing a downloaded map to the paper map, and found a great site on the northeastern side of the lake.

After staking our claim with a hammock and returning for the rest of our party, it was time to head across the water again. This time, we had the benefit of knowing what the area looked like! With two canoes and five people, we gave each person the opportunity to duff once. My brother-in-law took his turn for this crossing. He has some experience fishing, but none in canoe country, so I recommended he try trolling my biggest flicker minnow as deep as he could manage. Sure enough, a decent-sized northern hammered it just before reaching camp, and I was one step closer to my goal.

After setting up camp, I cast my faithful red and yellow Mepps #5 at a rock near our landing. A smallmouth ate it, and we now had something for the fish fry. We all took advantage of the beach landing area to swim, and then it was time for a serious fishing expedition.

My brother-in-law and I loaded up in the canoe and took off towards a pair of islands near the east end of Lake Three. In the channel between the islands, we had slow luck until I pulled out the trusty white spinner.

Within a few casts, I had a northern on the line - not the smallies we were hoping to fry up, but promising evidence that there were indeed fish in this channel! Just minutes later, another northern took the spinner. As I reeled it up to the boat, my brother-in-law readied the net. Just as he was about to swoop the fish up, it accelerated hard under the boat. I saw a green back, a white belly, and the snap on my leader breaking under the fish’s strength. Just as I was discovering its powers, the white spinner was gone forever.

We tried our channel a little longer before deciding to explore a rumor we’d heard. We made for the far side of Lake Four to seek out the rapids heading into Hudson. While we didn’t make it quite that far, we did get to the far end of Four, casting and exploring along the way. We realized we had better head back to camp, as it had been a few hours, we’d neglected to set a firm “back-by” time, and we were getting hungry for dinner. After a quick discussion, we elected to try trolling the flicker minnow again. We wanted to pick up one more fish - anything would do - to add to the frying pan as penance for our long time away. About halfway across the lake, something hit it. A decent northern hit my minnow hard and we had our protein in the boat. My brother-in-law put his own jointed swimbait in the water, and not long later the rod jumped. We never determined if it was the rocky depths or a monster northern that took his bait, because the line kept moving but the lure never surfaced. Either way, the lake won his lure.

We got back to camp, fried up our fish, and enjoyed a relaxing night at camp. A little night fishing with my fiancée and brother-in-law yielded the lone walleye of the trip, and we were treated to a beautiful moon on the paddle in.