August 3, 1993; Day 7; Freda Lake. As we headed north on Freda, the lake narrowed and shear cliffs lined the waters edge. High water marks were several feet above our head. At a place called the narrows we passed from lower Freda Lake to Upper Freda Lake. A tiny rivulet flowed between lakes that was too shallow and too narrow to accept our canoes. We didn't want to carry packs and canoes over the rocks, so we opted to drag the fully loaded canoes along the rivulet of water. Upper and Lower Freda could well have been named as two different lakes. Water in the lower lake must have been shallow and that was the reason for the abundant algae. In the upper lake, the bottom dropped out of sight and the water was pitch black. Upper Freda Lake was deep with vertical shores. If ever there was a nice lake to camp on, this was it. We paddled slowly, scanning the shoreline for the slightest hint of a campsite, but for most of the shore, we were unable to even step foot out of the canoe. It was straight up on the right and straight down into the inky black.

On the far side of the lake, the topography flattened and there was just a hint that a good campsite might wait discovering. We wanted to stop and enjoy this lake, so we veered off course and found a campsite situated adjacent to a small bay. To the west and south there was an unobstructed view of the lake. Best of all, there were no cliffs to climb and no long hauls to get our gear up on the flat. Our landing spot was solid rock that tapered gently upward to a flat cook area.

After supper, we headed out for a little recreational fishing. This night will long be remembered and I still keep the lure that I used hanging from a shelf in my office. Everything was perfect. The lake was calm as glass and the canoe stayed put while we cast our lures. There was a feeding frenzy going on under our canoe. We hesitated to put our hands in the water to wash off the slime between fish. Often a Walleye came flying out of the water near the canoe when we dropped the jig into the water to adjust the line in preparation for the next cast. Several times huge northern's would come from the depths stalking the Walleye that we had on the line. This reminded me of jaws.

We conservatively estimate that we caught 20 fish in a half hour. Most were a paddle blade long. We released all, and had to pull ourselves away to get back into camp before dark.

Pictures show my daughter and I returning to camp after an amazing evening of fishing and a view down lake with cloud reflections