Since that first trip to Canada in 1988,there have been many memories made...stories that are mostly funny, with a few of a more serious nature. Here are some of them.

Now...no matter what lake we visited over the years it was our custom to drink the pristine lake water. (can you see where this is going?) Canadian waters are usually deep, clear and cold, and drinking the lake water was what everyone did! It makes a great mix with your favorite Crystal Light flavor or just straight! A dip of the water jug, your hand or, in a pinch, your hat, was all that it took to quench your thirst. So...drink the Meta Lake water we did.

Giardia is a parasite carried in Beaver (and other animals) and there were quite a few Beaver on Meta Lake. Like food and water, parasites typically go in one end of the Beaver and come out...well, you know! So:

1) the lake is shallow;
2) sediment stays stirred-up;
3) beavers swim in the water;
4) beavers poop in the water;
5) Jack drinks the water!

The rest, as they say, is history! The first signs of "distress" that any of us had was a very unpleasant form of "projectile pooping!" (sorry so graphic) The day after returning home, however, things got really bad. 104 degree fever, sweats, lightheaded, body aches...thought I was gonna die! Bethesda North ER was not much help. Gave me some meds and sent me home. 4 hours later...back in the ER (this time at Christ Hospital) and, after getting poked and prodded, stuck with TWO IV's (one of which resembled your basic garden hose) they diagnosed my malady as Giardia. I'm here to tell you, folks...Giardia is some BAD SH__! Took a few days to get it through my system...several others on the trip also caught the bug, but with much milder side effects.

Morale of the story: If you go north, only frequent large and deep lakes!! (and yes, I still drink the lake water)

If you haven't heard the "beaver fever" story, well...here you go!

The night before we were to fly into Kag Lake (don't remember the year), the outfitter called. Seems that a bear had gotten into the cabin and tore it to pieces...even carried the refrigerator outside to get into it. So, with the cabin unavailable, he put us on another lake...Meta Lake. Meta is a smaller lake with an average depth of only 14'...not at ALL the depth of lakes that we typically frequent. Shallow waters means that, because of the lack of depth in the lake, sediment never quite has a chance to settle to the bottom. Normal wave action and wave action from passing boats keep things constantly in motion.

We always tried to plan our meals pretty closely in order to avoid too much weight on our fly-ins. See...the outfitters charge each person for excess baggage weight so you would try to keep the weight down by take fewer clothes, fewer fishing rods and tackle boxes, powdered drinks rather than liquid ones and frozen foods instead of foods in cans. But our meal planning always featured one or two dinners that were NOT fish-related. Usually steaks one night and something else another night.

On one trip to Birch Lake we decided to bake a ham. Bob and I were in the boat that morning, came in for lunch and put
the ham in the oven to bake while we fished in the afternoon. Oven set at 325 degrees...going fishing for about 5 hours...should
be about right!

Came back around 6:00 pm, mouths watering for some ham and, while the photo at the right is NOT the ham we baked
(this one actually looked much better) we had overcooked it...our ham was burned, charred and black to within about 3" of its center!
Bob affectionally called it a "moose tumor!"

Who knew it was a pre-cooked ham? Shoot! :(

Dennis, Larry, Bob and I comprised the crew for the 2008 Fall trip. The cabin wasn't built yet, but we still did a bit work on the property. Fishing was the primary activity, however, and our home was a cabin at Camp Midgard, Lloyd Bergmann's place at Angler's Cove.

The weather that week was a little on the cold side...not untypical for Canada in mid-to-late September.

A number of years before, Bob had exchanged one knee for a new one and ever since that operation had complained about always being
cold. In fact it was sort of a joke in his later trips...he would go through the cabin closing windows and I would go behind him opening
them again.

Bob and Dennis fished together one day...Larry and I in the other boat. Bob was known for not staying out late, he would return to the cabin in the late afternoon where as others of us would remain "fishingly engaged" almost until dark. That day, Larry and I came in...it was my day to cook dinner. Will NEVER forget walking up to the cabin door, opening it and getting blasted in the face by a tidal wave of heat. You could actually see the waves of heat escaping that cabin as it hit the cold outside air!

So in we went, grousing at Bob all the way for getting the cabin so hot. Shoot, he had the wood stove actually glowing RED on top and he was walking around in long pants and a sweatshirt!

Every few minutes we had to come outside and get a breath of cool air. On one of those trips I took the thermometer that was mounted on the south corner of the cabin and laid it on top of the refrigerator as I was making dinner. Oh, about 15 minutes or so later I grabbed it, looked at it and called Larry over for a look. BOB HAD THAT DAMN CABIN AT 92 DEGREES! And he was perfectly comfortable sitting in his chair, grinning from ear-to-ear!

"Pooh" was our golden retriever of over 17 years. The most faithful pet anyone could have...unconditional love at its
highest level... with that typical golden retriever happy face!

Pooh (her real name was Maggie) joined our family as an "almost newborn" of about 6 weeks or so. Her presence
warmed the house and our lives for each ensuing year, month, day and second.

Pooh made it to the cabin in 2012...her first trip to the lake. She and her new friend Bailey, a lab owned by Lloyd
Bergmann, enjoyed swimming together at Lloyd's place despite the Pooh's failing eyesight. She was a natural in the north
woods and took to the water like it had always been part of her life.

2013 saw her eyesight fade to darkness and it broke our hearts. Still, she was a trooper and learned her way around our home instinctively...knew every blade of grass outside of the front door...and could go directly to her water and food bowls without help. A week or so before our spring 2013 trip, Pooh suffered the first of several seizures that began to mark her final weeks and days with us. The vet supplied us with the proper medicines and gave us to OK to take her north. She managed very well over the next week or so, but suffered another seizure early one morning as she laid in bed with Janalee. After it was over, and a few brief minutes of rest, she was as much her old self as before. She finished her trip and went home with Janalee and the kids while I and others stayed behind for another week or so.

While I was away at a conference in July, Pooh died at home with Janalee, JR and Jennifer at her side. Her ashes reside on our mantel and the memory of her freely and happily swimming in the lake resides in our hearts each time we return...a reminder of her spirit and the joy that she brought to all she touched!

Now if you go to the north woods either you go as, or come back as, a "manly man" even if you are of the female persuasion. There's something about being "out there" living off of the land (or lake), drinking the lake water, doing your "business" in the woods with the bears, sitting by a wood-fueled fire at night having chopped the wood that afternoon, and generally communing with nature that helps even the most girly man grow a pair!

On one trip to Smoothrock Lake at the Almos Bay camp I decided to treat the guys to a "Manly Man Night." Those of you in the greater Cincinnati area will know of a place called Jungle Jims. JJ's is a food market where you can get almost any food that you can't get elsewhere. What better place to go to get things for Manly Man Night.

One section of Jim's contains exotic meats...meats from around the world...meats that you would never find anywhere except in the meat's country of origin. They have everything from bison to rattlesnake. So to Jim's I went. Unfortunately, no rattlesnake this time, but enough other weird meats to serve for MM Night and keep the guys guessing.

Manly Man night arrived in camp and medallions of each meat were prepared, one of each for each person at the table.

You have to know that father-in-law Bob was an ex-Marine. Even in his later years he was strong as a horse with a handshake that you would never forget. The manliest of men! Hot off of the grill, to the first medallion of meat made its way around the table and a clue was given to the guys. BISON! Got it. The next medallion was passed and clue given. ANTELOPE! Right. Medallion #3 circled the table and yet another clue was given. OSTRICH! Bingo. Medallion #4 was distributed and its clue was recited. CARIBOU! No one got that one. Now, the final medallions were started around the table and when it got to Bob he proclaimed to the group that he was full and would pass on the last helping. WHAT? The manliest of men (so we thought) got cold feet?

Medallion #5 was KANGAROO! But Bob just ate crow. We never let him forget it!

For a number of years our group flew into Smoothrock Lake in the Wabikimi Provincial Park in central Ontario, a short flight from the base camp just outside of Armstrong.

During one trip, friend Larry Giddings and I were about a mile to the north of the cabin casting for pike near the opening to a small bay. It was a bright, sunny day and we were more focused on chatting than casting.

On one cast I threw my bait a little high only to watch a seagull in flight swoop down, grab my spinner bait out of the air and proceed south down the lake!

Now I've played quite a few fish in my time but never a bird! And I'm here to tell you HE COULD FIGHT!

Not sure exactly what to do, I did the only thing that came to mind...jerked my rod tip downward toward the water and watched that gull drop from the sky, squawking all the way until splashdown. Now I've also unhooked a whole bunch of fish but this particular catch was going to be interesting to even get close to, let alone release from the clutches of my Gamakatsu.

Larry had a thought...instead of dipping him up in the landing net, he would pin him to the side of the boat. A long pair of needle nose pliers later, the gull was again heading south down Almos Bay...I suspect he's STILL going to this day!

A deep groan broke the silence of the day in the fall of 2014.

It was a low, slow, muddy groan that rose up the scale slightly, then down...warbling a bit each time it was uttered. Melancholy, unhappy, painful, distant but near, the groan was intermittent over the last week or so that we were in camp, but it was clearly heard from the deck, morning and evening.

Dennis and I heard it a number of times while we were on the lake. Seemed to be coming from the area just west of Little Belmore Bay, a small bay just around the corner from the cabin.

the more we heard it the more we talked about what it COULD be...but nothing made much sense. Until one evening it dawned
on us what it was.

See, each fall there is a thing called a rut, where moose get a little "feisty" and try to make intimate contact with a female.
OF COURSE...THAT'S WHAT IT HAD TO BE! The next time Dennis and I went out on the lake we spent some time in the area of
Little Belmore again and sure enough, Mr. Moose began singing that lonely song...we could even hear him moving around up in the
woods just out of eyesight.

Two impressions were left in my mind:

1) That poor moose had "bugled" for the last week or so that we were there which tells me that no female would have him, and;
2) His bugling sounded very familiar to me...reminded me of my high school days!