Renison Exploration
From Moosonee to Smooth Rock Falls; via a brand new ice road that travels around Moose River Crossing to Otter Dam to Fraserdale and onward to paved southern highways, is now a driveable alternative to the Polar Bear Express Train. I didn't need all of the road, just the stretch from Moosonee to Moose River Crossing that runs along the railway.
A tower 60km outside of town located at a place called Renison (on any topo) showed a trail easterly to the Moose River. I figured I'd make an easy ride there on the Bravo towing the auger, fishing gear, and some extra gas in the sleigh. From Renison I'd find my way onto the river and backtrack a few kilometers to a couple fishing spots that I know hold pike. It was a new direction, a day for exploring really.
Kissed Bren goodbye and armed with GPS, some extra insurance gear, food and fishing stuff I set off at 10am. A short 10km ride and I met up with the beginning (or end) of the new ice road. I was impressed. The road was well maintained, quite smooth, and it allowed for me to make as best time that a 250cc Bravo can make. (about 70km/hr max)
Only five minutes up the road an impressively large black wolf; the first I have ever seen, crossed my path and made a quick getaway into the nearby spruce. I thought that pretty cool, as I've found many tracks over the years but never the beast.
Continuing on I crossed Hancock Creek, then Kwetabohagan River and the Cheepas River. The road being ice and scraped at times right down to the dirt, I was forced to hug the shoulders as much as I could to prevent the snowmobile's sliders from overheating and sticking. After Cheepas though, it became impossible, and so I rode up onto the railroad tracks where there was plenty of loose snow beside and between the rails. Things cooled down enough to continue on full steam ahead.
I arrived in Renison about 11:30am, only 1 1/2 hours or so after leaving. There were no signs of skidoo tracks guiding me off the rail so the Bravo broke it's own.
Snow was deeeeeeeeep as this winter we have had major dumpage. Great thing about the Bravo is it is good and light, and with the extra wide ski skins rides up on top really well.
From behind the tower at Renison I could see down a hill, across a swamp, and into two spots along the treeline that looked to be trail access points. When I rode to them I was sad to find they were both completely overgrown and blocked with fallen trees. After a short tour to scout the swamp I got my speed up on approach of the hill but pulling the sleigh behind I made about half an ascent before getting bogged down. Stepping off the skidoo I sunk into loose powder to my navel.
At this point right here, had I been riding my bigger skidoo, I would have been done for, good and stuck and digging for ages. It's for this reason that for years I have never ventured too far off alone to explore with the Renegade. Having the Bravo this year though it's given more confidence.
The sleigh disconnected (as shown in the pic) I was able to lift up the skidoo, set it atop the snow at it's side and then slowly walk it up the hill. When that was done I went back for the sleigh and dragged it up too. The process didn't take all that long but when I was done the heart sure was pounding and I was drenched in sweat.
Exploring Renison didn't come without a plan B. Another 8km up the way the Moose River and railway tracks were only about 100 meters apart. A cabin at a place called Tommyville was the easy marker and a trail did exist there. I didn't like the idea of going all the way there and then having to back track on the river about 15km, but, I had no other choice.
Upon reaching Tommyville things looked good until I pulled up beside the cabin and stared down a steep and snow drifted hill. The river right there, I knew if I was to go down there would be no coming back up.
At 12:30 I thought about my time left, my fuel, and having to break trail through deep snow from this point all they way back about 50km to Kwetabohagan River. I decided to abort the mission to these new spots.
On route home when crossing the Cheepas River I stopped the skidoo and looked downriver. Not a trail on it, I'd never skidoo'd it before either. The river has a few thin ice areas I figured I'd best be careful of, yet with all the powder thought we'd stay afloat okay. Only a 10km ride or so and I could arrive where the Cheepas monster of february 2007 lives..... so I went.
Was an easy ride afterall, but slow. The skidoo kicked snow into the sleigh weighing it down and twice I had to stop because my speedometer kept dropping, boggin' me boggin' down. Freaking great fun though. World was my oyster for the afternoon, a real treasure found all to myself.
By the time I got drilled and set at the home of the Cheepas monster it was 3:00pm. An hour went by, I sat there, had lunch, and nothing. The sun tucking in behind some clouds and a west breeze picking up I got the chills from being still a little damp from the ride. I took a walk to warm up.
Not that far gone the bell rings on my set rod. I bolt over and pick up my first pike of the 08. A wee fella.
Just got re-rigged when over at my skidoo my rod tip there is bending. Zip my butt over to it and get another small pike. While I'm fiddling around without pliers and spreaders to get my Cleo out of this runts throat the bell goes on the set line. Looking over though it's not moving, so I continue to get my hook out. Just as I set the runt free the rod there drops and goes nuts. I'm up and running, and when closing in line is coming off the tight dragged Abu C3.... set the hook.... nothing. Good fish lost.... if it was the Cheepas monster this is it's third time eluding me.
Clouds rolled on by but I stayed around until 5:00pm then packed it in for home. No more action with the fish. The sun setting I later picked up trail at Kwetabohagan and followed that up to the ice road.
Although the Renison pike exploration was a bust, it turned out a fun day. About 220km of adventure and a number of small rewards.
Big Red Renegade 600
Two days after the Renison tour my buddy Steve and I set off to do some powder riding. The day before I had got my big skidoo back from the shop. Poor buggah had needed an engine rebuild pretty much as two new pistons and one cylinder found home under Big Red's chassie.
Awesome, awesome day for riding, we took off out of Moosonee and for the first 20km's or so I took it easy on Red to break her in. Idle was definetly wonky from the start though, I couldn't get the rpm's to settle down below 3500 after releasing the throttle. My skidoo wanted to just keep going forward. I played with the idle setting a little but no matter what I did the problem continued. To go along with that, while I was riding I sometimes felt the machine would get subtle and sudden bursts of speed.
No worrying about it in the moment we kept going, heading towards the Cheepas River where I had skidoo'd through days earlier. Steve was riding his brand new Yamaha Apex 1000cc long track. Frizickin' sled of his was really slick and quiet as a mouse with the 4 cylinder. He had a little space on the back to bungee down a geri of extra fuel so we could play out in the snow a little longer than normal.
Once we hit the Cheepas it was heaven. Winding around riverbends at mach 9 in nearly two feet of top snow was a great way to kick-off Big Red's return. Steve took time for a pic upon my request.
We came to the railway bridge and ice road on the Cheepas and stopped for a break and refuel. Upon leaving there to which way we came Steve for the first time in the day takes the lead, punching the throttle hard. I watch as he spits up snow and digs right into the river ice.... which in turn actually breaks because he was sitting on a thin spot and waves of water come up and eat the snow above the ice. I'm like "ohhhhhh shiziznit" cause I could be sitting on thin too, and punch the throttle to get off.
It was all just a flashing moment but I no sooner get moving that Steve smokes a hidden ice ledge that was under the powder and it sends him totally airborne. His skidoo; now a plane, in flight rocked right, left then right again before throwing him off to the right and then landing on it's side.
Steve's OK. He's landed clear of the machine in deep snow. We stand his new Apex upright and find it's suffered a little though. His key that was tethered to him has ripped out taking part of the ignition with it. I'm like... "crikey bro... this sucks, but, thank god it happened so close to the road, we can come pick it up with the truck."
Steve dusts himself off, tries his key in the broken ignition and she won't turn. I check it out and remove a broken piece inside and then he tries again. Low and behold it starts. Steve's Apex once started too can have the key removed and continue running... hahaha... we're back in business.
We didn't quite bomb off the Cheepas as quick as we did on to it. When back on the Moose River though we put the throttles down again on a long 8-9km straight stretch and rode hard. Steve's Apex digs itself such a deep trench in powder that with it's extra weight topped out he said at 117km/hr. I didn't know he was full out at that when I passed him doing a little over 130km/hr. Hehehe.
Just before Kwetabohagan Steve goes off trail and hit this big rock head on.
Lucky for him it was head on. He was sent straight up and managed to keep his balance. Had that been a left or right ski impact my bet is that machine of his would have been saddling him when it landed. Frenchmen I tell ya... whenever I tour with these guys it's a gong show. lol.
We made it out alive. Put about 100km on. It was definetly a long time coming for me to get out on a "real" skidoo ride, and this tour provided multiple orgasm play.
Big Red went back to the shop that same week and after some investigation turned out the idle issue was caused by water in the carbs and solenoid backing up fuel into the air filter. Once that was dried out everything was good again.
4:10 To Yuma.
Fish this one bay in the summer and fall for pike. If the train is on time the action in there can be good on either topwaters or trolled spoons. Never ice fished it, so on the 13rth of the month concluded it was time to give it a go.
From a buddy I bought an 8 inch auger extension for the Jiffy so I could give the 10 inch blade a rest, keeping it sharp for March. It was a nice when I left Moose Factory but on the way I ran into this.
Came out on the other side of that wee squall alright.
Upon drilling some holes found there was a problem. This auger piece I was sold (the one I won't admit to buying because "it was sold" to me) was shot. The blade seemed sharp but the spike was done. It took me 45 minutes to drill two holes each through about one foot of solid black ice and 1 1/2 feet of soft. I had to sit on the auger to get it to penetrate the black ice at all.
This was sooo not fun at all. By the time I was done the two holes I was whipped and dripping saline through seven layers. Set up my rig then had a quick "work accomplished" beer followed by a shot of hot chocolate. I was chilled again instantly cause it was another day in the north... COLD!
yeah, patent is pending so find your own ingenious idea... OK. lol.
Day was turning out sunny although the winds remained a little gusty. The drilling followed by the beer got me drowsy and I ended up taking a nap on the back of my skidoo for a little over an hour.
When the 4:10 train to Yuma hit the pistols started firing, it was just like over at the Cheepas monsters house. A first bell woke me up and I was quick to ice one mini-snot and then over the next 25 minutes iced four more. The bite turned off around 4:30 as quick as it turned on. Picked up two that were a half decent size. I wasn't about to take many pics of these fish though because with wet hands that gusty cold wind was blistering on the phalanges. Here's the best anyhow.
I was happy with that. A five pike day. If I had of known to show with a better auger at about 3:45 I could have saved nearly two hours of sleeping in the shivery wind.
Took off around 5:00 but snapped a couple nice pics. First shot was the mouth of the bay I was fishing and the second one was on the new ice road. Good fishing for february on the Moose.
On my off days from fishing; not work, the usual routine over the winter finds me making lures or tying flies. Last year was all muskybuck inlines and a few bucktail jigs, the year before were spoons, inlines and bucktails, and before that was mainly flies. This coming summer I have a few trips planned in which atlantics, arctic char, brookies, lakers, pike and eyes may be targetted. Not quite finished yet as I still have some sculpin pattern bucktail jigs to tie, I have got a decent start. I've tied flies only as, I hope to cast the 6 and 9wt's a little more this year, and, I'm equipped with enough lures for the trips.
To get a scale, the big black bunny hair leech in the middle is about 4.5 inches long. I tied alot more than what are only seen in this pic.
These mice patterns are for bigger searun specks. They look OK but I can't cast worth a crud so on the water they may look retarded to a fish. I tied the two bigger ones weedless using a flourocarbon weedguard.
These two atlantic salmon flies are popular to those who fish atlantics. One is the Ally's Shrimp and the other the Blue Charm.
These bushy-headed freakizoids are weighted with wrapped lead wire around the hook shank so I get them down. They're supposed to be sculpin-like bunny hair immitations. One I call Bunk's Devil Bunny because... well because it looks like the devil. Scary like.
Having a student working for me on the weekends had helped me free up time from seeing patients. Now I'm just the guy she consults while I do important work like tie flies, watching fishing TV shows and poker, and go on-line to read about shhhtufff on fishing boards.
That is all.... almost.
Run & Gun Onakawana
Back June 17th, 2004 a friend and I took the Little Bear train out of Moose at mile 186 and got dropped off south at mile 116 Onakawana. From there we paddled our tushies down the dirty Abitibi River through Allan’s Rapids, onto the Moose River and home. Was about a 90km trip and relatively boring and tedious, and yet with some interesting highlights that make it another story for another time.
I wanted to go back up there. Since 2004 I have had it in mind to skidoo up to one spot that was on that entire Abitibi portion which I figured would hold fish. This past Sunday my buddy Steve with the Apex switched his work shift to come along on the expedition.
We set off at 10:00am figuring it was 75-80km. We had no idea of trail conditions but I knew that a local outfitter had been taking southerners back and forth from Moosonee to his camp up there. The trail turned out to be mint. There was not one problem area the entire trip and because of that we got up there in 1 1/2 hours and enjoyed every bit of the scenery along the way. This was a relief because I had heard this river could be dangerous in places and, it's a big isolated area and that needs some respect.
Upon reaching the spot Steve and I spread things out. For a small area the bottom must have been quite contoured as depths were variable within short distances. The deepest hole was probably only around 8 feet and many places had strong current. Ice conditions were weird. About 2 inches black ice at the bottom of two feet of different layers of soft ice and slush.
Once the lines were down it took about 20 minutes and the first fish to hit a chunk of fallfish on a Williams.
This 22 inch ling turned out to be my first ling ever. I said to Steve, "I caught a new species, the trip is a success."
Things slowed after this fish for about an hour though. Decidedly after jiggin and snackin' awhile Steve was to head to the southern set-up to clean the hole and I'd go north. On the way there, the north bell goes. Steve is too far off and I'm right there anyway.
A bright colored walleye with a weird bloody tail. Fish on the dirty Abitibi River (even the lake) take on such cool colors. The pike are really silvery and mauve, the ling light brown not dark at all, and the walleye white and beige.
After just the two fish it shut down. Sad state of affairs that was too because the day ended up just amazing. -3C, the wind died around 4:00pm and the sun came out after the clouds cleared.
I was sure this spot would be pikey... and after moving around to try new holes we covered a good lot of space. Dunno...
5:00 is quitting time around here and so we got on route home. Weren't 10 minutes heading back when we barrelled right into a snow storm. Visibility turned garbage but the trail could be made out well enough and we did well to get off the Abitibi in good pace. The day overall was fantastic. It was great getting up there finally and it was an awesome month for exploring and probing a couple new spots.
KESAGAMI LEGENDS Chapter 1.
There really is only one month in the north and it's called Kesagami.
New moon day, friday March 9th, good and brisk at a "feels like" -31C and all gear accounted for Bren and I drove across the river to meet up with the good folks down in Tozerville. John and Dale Tozer of Bushland Air were found on the ice strip readying their 206 and waiting to shuttle us over to the big lake for some fizishin'. Johnny Turner would be the pilot for the first trip in of the season... first trip for anyone. BOOOYAH!
Over the summer the plane got a new engine, John turned that mutha over and we were airborne in no time. Some folks who had booked to go fishing over the past couple weeks had backed out due to the cold weather... wimps.
We touched down on the lake to find the snow not deep at all and, no slush. Perfect. No signs of life ever having been there either. Little wind in the air the day was cold and mainly cloudy, but, as the day would go on the weather was all over the place. One hour sunny, the next cloudy and flurries.
Bren and I set up.
While I was drilling Bren got into the walleye within minutes. The process of setting up took me longer than I could remember. Worked up a wicked pit-back-bum drip, steam was coming off my nog and I was panting like a dog. I finally got everything finished around 10:40am. I have a method, but it seems my arse is slowing down as the years go by.
I got back to our walleye area, put a lure and minnow on, dropped it, and before it hit the bottom of like 18 inches of water I had a peyekeral. Sick sh!t if you ask me. Haha.
11:00 on the nose and for me the bell tolls, and so I'm off an running to the east. Big fish time..........
Feisty buggah!!! I get some reel peel, some shakage and bakage below the ice. Digging the set-ups I've created for this year, it's nice to have rods with reels that act like perfect tip-downs. I felt all his moves and countered with a few of my own. It was real Travolta versus Bacon Saturday Night Footloose vibe.
DRUM ROLL DOOOOOOOODS!!!
Up comes a teenaged 35 incher. A rebellious teen caught in the act, he was totally underdressed for the cold weather so he received a quick f"lashing" before being grounded back to a warm room in the basement.
I barely had time to reset my whipping stick when the bell rang again. Big brutha was home and in one real foul donkey mood. Little did he know the "Chuck Norris" was still flowing through my veins and when he stupidly decided to take a bite out of me I turned around, charged and drove an uppercutting treble deep into his yap. "YO MOFO!! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!" I says.....
Big Brutha pike did in fact want a piece. He was all like Pike-Fu and Pikarate under the ice. A few times I felt his kicks and blows... when the wussy wasn't trying to run from me. I may have lost an emotional tooth but after a sprited battle my "Chuckness" was not to be "fawked-with" and I did what any good fishing Ninja God would do... I pinned him in the hole then smacked him in the kisser.
ONE........ TWO........ THREE!!!
There's the count and here's the trophy.
40 inches of CHUNKY MONKEY... take that.
All is chill again after awhile. Actually, I'm chilled. The sweat before the cold didn't work out. Figure it's lunchtime and some hot chinook-scallop-crab-clam chowder on the Coleman oughtta warm das bones.
Ohhh, but wait...???... before I can get the kitchen stove out Bren's got something sizzling under the ice.
My lovely wife after giving a good stir reaches into the pot and pulls out....
.... A 35 INCH HOT DOG.
Turned out my regulator for the stove was pretty close to shot. We ended up being only able to cook one bowl of chowder for the both of us, and that took about 1 1/2 hours. I had my half bowl with a Moosehead and some banana bread.
Recharged, Energizer'd and EverReady'd Bren and I got back to catching feesh. Lots of these happy scrappy's were shopping around our neighbourhood Dimestore.
We were minding our business... sitting back enjoying the walleye-ness of Kesagami, when a couple nasty nasty bad mannered skank pike came cruising down our street. Bren, whom is quite well trained in the art of Pike-Kwon-Jitsu, kept her cool and calmly said to me... "I'll take care of these brats."
Choosing her jiggin' rod equipped with small spoon and 10lb Power Pro she slapped the first pike in the mouth and said, "You likey pikey?"
Ohhhhh, and it was soooo ON!!! They traded slaps, pulled the 10lb hair, screamed at the top of the reel, but near end of this hot mudsling, Bren summoned her inner Wonder Woman and sexy redboot-roundhoused pike beeyotch number one into the atmosphere and grabbed her by the chin in a death grip.
"YOU LOSE LOSERGIRLFACE!!!" Bren shouts at her defeated opponent.
Moments later Bren sent Nasty Skank Pike of 37 inches packing with a message for her friend. For awhile we thought we were OK in the neighbourhood again. The sun broke from behind the clouds and we lounged out to the sweet sounds of silence under warm rays of Vitamin D goodness. Things were peaceful again................... but below, in the cold darkness, maybe behind some piece of structure, skank Dirty Scuz Nasty Pike two, waited.
SHE SPRANG!!! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ Screamed the reel. Caos insued, utter pikedemonium. Dirty Scuz Nasty Pike using sniper skill momentarily stunned Bren........
........ Not for long though.
The Vitamin D of the sun had cured all ailments from Bren's earlier battle with 37 Nasty Pike. She healed fast and between rounds pressed buttons A & B as rapidly as possible in order to build energy like Little Mac does in the old Nintendo game Mike Tyson's Punchout.
Entering round two Bren snuck in three quick jabs and gained some stars. When Scuz Nasty Pike Dirty took a swing and miss Bren pressed her start button and using her stars KO'd the big fish. As her coach I couldn't have been happier.
I'm not telling how big Scuz Nasty was becuz you're all dirty for even guessing.
That was that. The afternoon sailed by. We mustard and relished in our accomplishments. Trophy pike on Kesagami and we were on 'em like flies on honey on bears eating rice. It was nice.
Thinking of food as it was late in the day when I set the rod down on my chair and got up for some banana bread. Mmmmmm chocolate chips-O-MY-GOSH my rod was heading for the hole!!!
No real time to set my food down I was left no choice but to enter into combat with King Koopa Bowser.
Power of the banana in hand I did battle Bowser with my long rod Excalibur. He proved a very cunning adversary possessing veteran skills and superpike strength, I wasn't sure during some moments whether to defend myself or continue eating my supper.
Bowser's rage grew though as time wore on, and cloaked under a veil of ice the rogue threw fireballs of hate and daggers of just wicked-gnarly Swiss Army make. Chomping at the bits (of walnuts in the bread) I shielded myself from the attack waiting for my moment to go all Spartan King Leonidas on Bowser. And then that time came...
I sprung from under the shield and using Excalibur thrust hard at Bowser. And I won.
Bowser submitted, laying defeated just then on my lap. Becoming my P.B. - personal beeyotch.
And a picture for my mom all smiley and grown-up like too. Here ya go babe, aren't ya proud of your son the great Ninja Spartan Chuck Norris Fishing God he turned out to be. Haha.
After I set all 23+ pounds of 42.5 inch Bowser free to swim again it was getting late so we packed up our gear and summoned Pegasus to take us home.
*** this one is for you Wayne***
Once in the clouds on Pegasus 206 a gorgeous sunset guided Bren and I home back to Mount Olympus.
Newt and Toot were waiting when we got home and were very excited when we shared our legends of leviathan Kesagami Pike.
KESAGAMI STRIKES BACK Chapter 2.
We'd caught word that Kesagami lake was building an army empire of trophy pike and droid walleye. Fearing that someone may catch them first, Bren and I, along with our friend Gillian joined up as a rebel force to overthrow evil plots of grandeur by other unworthy anglers.
Sunday March 11th we climbed aboard the Millenium "206" Falcon and hit light speed towards deep subarctic wilderness bush on Planet Kesagamium. Captain Dexter was Solo at the helm.
Windchill was -38C that morning but warming up enough to fly. Daylight savings time had my body in a deprived state but we were ready. On the way in I couldn't get the song "Jungle Boogie" out of my head. In fact, I hummed the lyrics and the brass section over and over again in preparation for our battle.
Upon landing we set out our artillery. The usual weapons for jiggin' and riggin' were laid out and I got to work drilling out our old holes. The day was frickin' cold with the wind.
Sixth hole into the rotation I find pan grease and spare walleye bits in the hole. A quick realization that someone had landed here the day before was concluded. I did not want to work too hard and relocate because of my fear of overheating then sufferring hours of chills in the cold so, I stuck with the plan but drilled only one new hole to replace the wasted one.
Not long after setting up day camp on Kesagamium a probe pike wandered into our territory. Gillian was quick investigate with me at her side.
The probe was equipped with a number of defense mechanisms to prevent capture but, Gillian herself having three young children is well trained in chasing probes down, securing the scene and exposing the truth. Gillian did just that with this probe 35-36" pike.
Around lunch time our Rebellion began to feel as though the droideyes were not overly numerous in our area. Taking a break, I retrieved the "new" regulator from my coat and fired up our Coleman Instamatic Food Materializer 3000. As our goulash cooked a Tie Fighter broke over the horizon and landed on Kesagamium.
As soon as the Fighter touched down, from the eastern bushes two Skidoo Crafts came tearing towards us. One as it was approaching veered off to the Tie Fighter while the other met our Rebellion.
A large Cree Wookie got off his skidoo and introduced himself as John MacDonald with the MNR... He carried a primitive taser but seemed nice enough and wore the badge of a peacekeeper. He asked me for my permit.
Upon reading my name on the permit the large Wookie then says "You must be Moosebunk? We've heard about you." "Is that a good or bad thing for me" I replied sheepishly. Then we laughed.
The Wookie and I talked along time about Kesagamium's army of trophy pike and droid walleye. We discussed the areas politics, special interests, policing, past, present and possible future. This Wookie John MacDonald turned out to be related to Dexter Solo our pilot who flew us in. He also may have dated my sister-in-law a few thousand light years ago back on another planet called James Bay. Our Rebellion befriended the Wookie John MacDonald and allowed him to view all our artillery and captured droideyes.
The MNR Wookies left after some time. I am sure we will be visiting with them again on Kesagamium. Once I finished my goulash I approached the Tie Fighters. There were two crafts now which landed on the ice and three aliens were cramping our Rebellion's style by co-habitating a little too close.
After initial greetings I learned these folks were from Timmins. Turns out one of them knew of the cyber-space phenomenon known as me, "Moosebunk." Couldn't be all that bad I figured. (even though they greased garbaged my hole and fished in my zone, lol...... probably thinking I was not planning to fish there again)
Turns out they weren't bad doods at all. A few nice fellas indeed, they befriended our Rebellion as well. I hinted to them before my departure back to camp that, in future in order to conquer Kesagamium's army of droid walleye and trophy pike that, they need not be nearby us but, that in fact the area where the army lies is quite vast where we are and they could easily find battles with fish off of many regions. I pointed out a few and afterwards left to join my camp. I hope these newcomers in the future release any of the trophy pike they happen to catch.
Upon my return, small waves of droideyes were attacking Gillian and Bren, a number of them being captured. Dexter returned in the Millenium 206 Falcon too, telling us that he saw an army of 30 or more Moose clumped together in parties to the north.
The winds of the day were finally settling and a warm soothing air heated by the seven suns was providing a spectacular stage for our final battle against the droid-eyes.
A platoon of larger droideyes came in and Bren captured one.
She attached a message to this droideye that warned the empire of trophy pike
which had eluded us on this day, that, we would return again when the moon is not new, but it is full. And, that they better prepare for battle then cause we weren't leaving without one. The droideye was released.
Minutes later a large jedeye and I fought. This one battled unlike any other I have battled. With it's masterful jedeye skills it cut off my lure by getting it hung up on the ice. I was devestated and now require repair.
We may have seemingly lost the battle this time, but we will win the war on Kesagamium's trophy pike and droid-eyes.
KESAGAMI GROUNDS AND POUNDS. Chapter 3.
The Cessna 206 had issues through mid march. Out of commission a couple weeks, plans for the southern'ers Ransome and HOF to fish with me unfortunately fell apart. Had things worked out though, the boys would have been in for -20 to -40C windchills and the likelihood of not flying at all because of the extreme cold and high winds. Who in their right mind would want to spend a couple full days fishing while exposed to that anyhow?
A seemingly long wait between bouts of pike and eye fishing Bren and I were finally able to make the return on thursday March 27th more than two weeks after the last visit.
Because of no southern visitors we went in for the first time with no live bait for the walleye. Didn't worry Bren at all as she's always confident fishing there with deads. Our work was cut out for us, maybe. With longer days now we opted for a 9:00am departure out of Moosonee.
On approach to our fishing hole, far off in the distance, my eyes were playing tricks as I thought I was seeing a huge blue and white moose. A fly over concluded that the beast actually appeared to be a large Toronto Maple Leafs fan, fishing alone. Not to be rude, once we landed Bren and I began walking over to introduce ourselves.
I had reservations at first because it's believed that Leafs fans are a strange brood; a rumor likely true, and a possible explanation for even my own wife's oddities. Closing in now I gazed at this big fella in awe. His shiney colossal head massive and painted with a pinkish glowing blush, I had guessed I made the mistake of thinking that this warped melon was actually a 60-point rack.
He stared downward into his single hole and made no movement.
"Hello there, great morning for a fish." I hailed. The unalarmed man remained still. A second attempt I shouted, "EH, HOW'RE YA DOING EH, MY GID MAAN?" speaking louder and accented-like as if we were on the Toronto metro. Bren and I were suddenly shocked, and once the man strained to finally lift that huge planet on the end of his neck we realized it was Mats... Mats dang' Sundin, Toronto's team captain and all time awesome awesomeness.
"MATS, OHHH MATS," Bren barked as she went into an immediate head-to-tail spin, "It's so nice to meet you. What are you doing here all alone ice fishing?" Looking around I realized he kept no belongings with him, no auger, no scoop, no food, no nothing except an empty Gatorade bucket and an ice fishing rod. Heck, strangely he was dressed in his skates and hockey equipment. "Yizeah man, what the frizzick are ya dizzoing, out hizzere alone? Where's yer stuff, where's your pizzeeps, homey?" I questioned using my best city lingo. Tears came to Matseses eyes as he struggled to find the words, "I was on a playoff hunt, but it lead me nowhere."
This dood was distraught, he kinda bummed me out. We talked for awhile and Bren got a picture with her hero. When I asked how he managed that hole through four feet of ice he told me that just one drip of the sweat from his aging brow melted its way to the water below. About the rod, he replied that after the All-Star break this year and years past he's begun keeping it with him knowing that at any moment his season will likely finish. I asked Mats what his favorite fish to fish for is and his one word answer pretty much summed things up, "Crappie." I told him Kesagami was no crappie lake at all, that the fishing here was really quite exceptional. I questioned as to what he thinks the problem really is, to which Mats sadly expressed, "I believe I could do better but my career earnings of 60 million just isn't enough to buy a good team around me, my talent alone isn't enough Bunk, I need a team to succeed with but instead they give me Cryin' McCabe, a Pilon-akorovsky and a mouthy little Darcy *ucker." "Excuses," I told Mats. "Lines always have their ups and downs yet eventually you should be capable of hooking the prize." Matseses response, "yeah, well, we caught a nice one in 67, okay." I could sense that his lack of trophies was a sore spot but I needed to ask just one more question, how the heck did he end up here in the middle of nowhere..? Retreating back into his state of despair Captain Mats just mumbled away in broken Swedish, possible saying Ferguson, or McCabe, or not "waving" goodbye or "trading Santa Clause" or something like that.
Peeling Bren away from trying to console Mats we left the dood be and moved far away to our own area to get to fishing.
In all seriousness though, it was kind of a miserable weather day, gusty and cold. When we did arrive on the lake two locals out of Moose Factory were already there and fishing a big spread right down the chute in the middle of the lake. Turns out they had been camping a few days and not catching too many.... Bren and I kept our distance and drilled holes in sort of a new spot.
After the hour and a half process of getting all things set-up I was exhausted and a bit discouraged. A couple of the tipdown holes for pike seemed way too shallow and, Bren wasn't hitting the walleyes in good speed. I redrilled a couple pike holes in time then decided we'd stick it out and see what happens.
The day continued to beat on us with wind and scattered flurries, the holes often filling quickly with a foot of slush and making for more work cleaning.
Around 1:00pm way off in the distance I saw two dark objects move quick across a shoreline then behind a point. I said to Bren, "MNR is coming in again on skidoos." Well, we waited, and after twenty minutes I decided to start cooking lunch on the camp stove.
It was weird, as while I sat stirring the chili I kept saying to Bren that I felt like eyes were on me. Then, those eyes finally appeared.
I laughed about my mistake. Those hadn't been snowmobiles but instead two lone caribou traveling in the distance. Thing is, they can really move. Before long they were staring our group down as well as the other two Moose Factory fellas; one man had snowshoed quick to get his gun. The beasts for a moment remained too far for a shot, then they began moving towards the treeline and Bren and I.
The two bulls made a smart decision keeping their distance while in the open. Once along the trees they inched closer to us all. We were about 80 meters apart from the caribou and 150 meters or so behind us was the gun, Bren and I totally in the line of the fire. The caribou stopped one last time and glared, then stepped into the safety of the forest.
Bren loved that. Growing up she had only ever seen dead caribou which her brother or father would bring home from a hunt.
Fishing continued to be slow for Kesagami standards. One pike setup fired hard at some point but before I could get up from the chair it righted itself and that was that. Early afternoon Bren caught a new fish species for her and strangely, the first perch I have witnessed while living and fishing in the north. She was quick to ask if we could eat it... "YEAH!!!"
I think if I was a perch swimming around under the ice in the dark on this lake, I'd be the most scared creature on earth. So, we put the poor fishes fears to rest.
A little while later Bren followed up the perch with a decent pike she caught while jiggin'.
By the same means I released a similar sized pike as well during the afternoon, but my best fish of the day turned out being a nice sized walleye in the three pound range.
When Johnny arrived in the plane I couldn't have been happier. We had a good time on the lake, we always do, yet the cold and wind really drained me over the nine hours we endured it. The new spot kind of failed me too, but I'm not convinced that if the weather hadn't been more stable that we wouldn't have put a bigger hurt on the trophy pike. All in all we did pretty good though as Bren and I caught 29 walleye, four pike and the perch. I'm not sure about Mats..? If he did catch any fish at all, my guess is that they never really counted for a single thing anyway. Maybe next year he'll find a trophy to make up for it.
RETURN OF THE JEDEYES. Final Chapter... probably.
After thawing from our cryogenic frozen state, the next day Bren and I quite stiff and tired suited up for battle on Kesagamium. The plan was an early attack on the lake. First, we would regain our stronghold at a pre-established settlement, then surround the perimeter with big gun tipdowns. Strategically we would take down as many droideyes as we can, reconvert big evil jedeyes back to our team, and finally get Bren inside for a showdown with a new PB trophy vadar pike. (I called it that morning before boarding the plane... ahem, Cessna falcon)
Landing on Kesagamium I thought maybe we took a wrong turn in hyperspace. Below the surface snow was slush... much like the mushy Degobau system. Pulling our sleigh we slogged through the dangerous terrain and found the remanants of our past honey hole.
The morning was mainly sunny and calm, setting up was comfortable. Before long though, droideyes were spotted probing our base. Bren easily held Fort killing 10 droids and one sith pike of about 35 inches. I wasn't really fighting all that hard during that time but I helped out and killed one droid.
It wasn't too long afterward that the Rebellion showed up to help.
Working another area to the south they battled with a number of droideyes. To the west a couple Chewbaccas out of Moose Factory (who had been around for days and surely must have smelled like a couple Wookies by then) were busily tending to droideyes firing on tipups. To the east Bren and I secured our perimeter until there was a breach on a southern gun-rod.
I set off on the attack, leaving Bren behind to man the chowder on the stove. Once there I could see heavy damage to the rod yet it remained intact. I released it from auto then manually fired the hook. A good sith pike challenged back from the darkside below.
The battle was quick. Using the force I overpowered the defenseless pike after it rolled on the leader.
Coming atop the hole it was realized a worthy 41" adversary had indeed been defeated. My robotic left leg could barely contain itself with excitement.
Finally, appendages and sith pike under control, we got a shot for the archives.
While Bren and I were taking photos of this pike the alarm bells were going off back at base. My sith pike had only been a diversion and now another threat existed inside the perimeter. I had to subdue my fish while Bren was sent running to the challenge back home. When she arrived and set the hook I received a message, "IT'S ON!!!"
"Read ya loud and clear babe," I responded in light speed. Another sith pike was wreaking havoc on our inner defenses but Bren used her jedi mind tricks and fooled the pike into sticking it's head up the hole. Once that was done, it was over for the enemy.
I didn't size this pike up but I gave it about 36 inches of frickin' evil. The sith may have been headed for a bonk on the noggin' then the table, but after it pleaded for it's life and sworn allegiance to our Rebellion it was released.
The battle pressed on well into the afternoon. The skies clouded over slowing the droideyes and sith pike which both seem to bite better with solar energy. The winds from the north again started to blow.
During a period of rest I was abruptly awoken in my lawnchair tie-fighter when surprised by an attacking Boba Fett pike. Cunning weaponry and a master of assault, I had no time to defend yet my shields held and I set off after Boba into deep space. Boba Fett pike screamed line off the reel in one long, long, long run before snapping the jiggin' spoon from my leaderless tractor beam line. Into an asteroid field that piece of space-junk escaped.
The day was coming to an end and I was chilling-killing droideyes. Bren was still up on me in numbers after her 11 to one start but I was closing the gap quick. Hooked into a droideye Bren shouts out, "that rods down!" and she kicks it into high gear to our eastern tipdown.
I didn't think we'd get attacked from the east today as the water below the ice there was almost too skinny at around nine inches deep. Before Bren got to the rod it had reset into position looking like the sniper had vanished.
She picks it up, sets the hook and makes about three sudden turns on the reel. Vadar pike had been lurking below but Bren surprised him with just one swing of her light sabre, pulling his head instantly into the hole-vortex-jedi-trap rendering Vadar totally defeated. It was freaking rad and I'd never seen it happen before. Bren destroyed Vadar pike in like two seconds with just one move.
Vadar wasn't happy none at all. He tried to tell us he is our father but we weren't buying his "bullsith." We had him now and there was no escaping.
We won. Vadar pike now finished his empire on Kesagamium would soon crumble. Bren held her new PB true trophy pike high, man, was I happy for her.
During the after party with the two Chewbaccas, a bunch of Ewoks, ninjas, Spartans, Mats Sundin, the entire Rebellion and our pilot John Solo, I found out my wife was really my twin sister, Princess Brenda, who had been separated from me at birth for our protection. Didn't bother me none though, cause that's how we roll on Kesagamium.
Body count - 45 fish.
- Play Star Wars finale music here -
Anyone visiting Kesagami please release these great trophy pike to enjoy catching again another day.
One of the best reports I have ever read
