Thursday, June 12, 2025 It was a cold night. I bring my 0-degree sleeping bag regardless of the season, and last night I was grateful for it. Even so, I had to pull on a few extra layers before I was warm enough to sleep comfortably. The morning is just as chilly. Thankfully, I always pack my winter running pants and long-sleeved shirt, no matter what the forecast says. Experience has taught me never to trust June weather in the Boundary Waters. After making coffee, I decide on a walleye-and-eggs breakfast. I paddle away from camp, trolling a jointed Rapala as I head toward one of yesterday's fishing spots. Within ten minutes, I land a nice eater-sized walleye. I paddle back to camp and fry it alongside a couple of eggs before pouring myself another cup of coffee. Later that morning, I run into a Forest Service crew. Of course, my permit is still back at camp. They follow me back so I can retrieve it, and after a quick inspection, we exchange a few friendly words before continuing on our separate ways. I spend the rest of the day fishing. The bite is slow, but during the afternoon I catch a beautiful 18-inch walleye that becomes dinner. I was convinced I'd found the hot spot, but no matter how many times I drifted back over the same area, I couldn't catch another fish. Tonight's dinner is pita pizza, and once again I'm amazed by the lack of mosquitoes and deer flies. There appear to be only two other groups camped on the lake, making Shell feel wonderfully quiet.