Day 7: Taking it Slow on Knife and Toe
Friday, June 19th, 2026
With plenty of logs in camp that we sawed yesterday, I for once don’t have to start my day by plunging into the thick brush and balsam woods that surround our site. I spend the morning splitting, sawing, and tidying up, then wake Andrew at 7:30 A.M. with James Taylor singing “You’ve Got a Friend” from the weather radio. After breakfast, we hit the water.

With near-perfect paddling conditions on the lake today, I have Andrew take the stern seat for our paddle over to Eddy Falls. He handles the job perfectly and enjoys the change of scenery and extra legroom in the back of the boat. While we’ve passed by the falls a couple times already this trip, we haven’t hiked in for a closer look yet and plan to do so today. Along the way, a solo camper calls out to us from shore, telling us to try fishing below the falls for Smallmouth. There’s not too much traffic at the falls this morning, and we hike in for a quick look and a photo or two, then try fishing below the falls for a bit. Our efforts yield only one small bass, so we head back to where the trophy Northern was caught a couple days ago, each with a Syclops tied on, confident that another large Northern in the area is sure to bite. I immediately find a 28” Northern, but that turns out to be all. I switch to a large Mepps spinner, while Andrew changes to a twister tail. Still, we have no action whatsoever, until Andrew hooks into what seems to be the largest Smallmouth Bass of the trip. After a brief glimpse of this impressive fish, his line goes slack and the fish gets away. While there’s no way to know if that was the elusive 20” bass we’ve been chasing, we both are certain it was the best bass of the trip. After a slow morning of fishing, we are both feeling beat down after missing out on the fish that would have changed the entire day. We pull into nearby campsite #2038 to take a mental break and explore a bit. The site would work for three hammocks if needed but is overall just average. Andrew casts out from the front of the site and pulls in the catch of the day, dead fish remains that had been thrown off of the campsite, which further accentuates the disappointing fishing we’ve had today.

While we hadn’t planned this initially, our need for a change of pace leads us to the short lift over into nearby Toe Lake. Perhaps it’s because we are spoiled after the past few days on the clear waters of Knife, but Toe is mucky and weedy, with deeply stained water. But a new lake always injects a sense of optimism, so we cast out fully expecting to find a fish or two. And very soon, we do, doubling up with a 13” Smallmouth and a 23” Northern. We would stay here trolling this area of Toe longer, but dark clouds are gathering once again, and we are quite a distance from camp, so we keep moving. Even with the ominous skies, we can’t help but take a quick look around the campsite on Toe, site #2043. This one is a cozy, secluded beauty of a site with great space, a perfect fire grate area, and gorgeous white pines throughout the camp. We make short work of the portage back into Knife, where the skies suddenly start to clear. We fish several bays for Smallmouth, with only modest success. Andrew catches several smaller ones as well as a 15” bass and gets plenty of bites, but I get absolutely no action, even after switching to a swimbait and trying to fish just like Andrew does. The kid just has the golden touch when it comes to bass.

On the long paddle back to the site, we tie on a tail dancer, shad dancer, and the Walleye Wizard to try to salvage a decent fish for supper, but have zero action. Our canoe conversations on the way back are standard for a day such as this, deliriously singing songs we really don’t know, trying to tailor lyrics to fit the tune that describe how poor our fishing luck has been today. We arrive back at our site hungry and ready for a slower rest day around camp. We eat lunch and are still hungry, so we fire up the skillet early tonight for summer sausage with cheese, followed by hashbrowns and tomato soup. We break out the chess board so Andrew can demonstrate to me how little I know about chess, then kick the hacky sack around for the first time this trip. This is just what the doctor ordered for our lackluster spirits, because we are both terrible and able to let go and just laugh at our ineptitude. We eat a lackluster stir fry meal and discuss Sunday’s Mass readings, since we will still be in the park this Sunday. We burn a surprising amount of firewood just relaxing together around camp tonight, and considering how much we love campfires, perhaps this means our day was a success after all.

A week ago, I was driving up the north shore, my foggy, sleep-deprived mind alternating between numbness and caffeine-fueled panic as we trudged toward Grand Marais on highway 61. I prayed and silently pleaded for a successful trip, simply one that Andrew would be able to enjoy. The closest thing to an answer I received in that moment was the thought that all I needed to do was to relax and “Let the wilderness work its magic.” No matter what we were doing today, I kept thinking back to James Taylor’s soothing voice reaching through the crackling speaker of our weather radio, singing “You’ve Got a Friend.” The song somehow strikes the perfect balance of melancholy, patience, and comfort which perfectly accentuates the type of day we had today. Last week, I dreaded a day like today, fretting about whether it would be “good enough” to keep Andrew from getting bored or frustrated with this wild adventure. But even during a successful trip, the ordinary moments far outweigh extraordinary. A tasty meal by the fire must be preceded by hours of shopping, dehydrating, and packaging, then thrashing through impenetrable brush to gather the wood, then cooking it over the stove, and doing dishes when it’s all over. While the goals we seek on these trips are eating that meal, catching that fish, seeing that waterfall, or sharing that wildlife sighting, the overarching MISSION is achieving a deeper relationship with my son. As James Taylor sings so well, that mission is achieved by sharing moments together when the sky is “dark and full of clouds.” We’ll never forget our best fishing days, but we also won’t forget how terrible we are at pitching a tarp, the comic futility of playing hacky sack in the middle of nowhere, and the terror of being caught out on the lake when a gusty downpour overtakes us. Spending time in the wilderness with Andrew has allowed space for days like today, when just being together is enough, even if the bugs are biting and the conversation is nonsensical. All of these varied moments, shared together, are knit into the ever-changing fabric of our relationship. For now, the proper reaction shouldn’t be to question why today wasn’t what we’d hoped for, but to rest comfortably that we made the best of it, together.

But you better believe we are getting after it early tomorrow so I can finally catch a decent smallmouth, or I’ll never hear the end of it from Andrew!

Stats—> Portages: 2 | Portage rods: 21 | Paddle distance: 6.0 miles | Fishing time: 3:45 | Fish caught: 7 (5 SB, 2 NP) | Lakes: South Arm Knife, Toe | Top lures: Z-Man tickler (mood ring), Mepps #3 Syclops (Chartreuse)