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Thunder Bay Chronicles
The
Thunder Bay Chronicles
Day
3: Experiencing
Nipigon and Old Fort William
By Noel Vick
We
woke to overcast skies – not classic laker conditions – but air
temps were tolerable and spirits ran high.
Fabled Nipigon was on the menu.
 The
day’s travels would take us to a reservoir of the Nipigon River,
not the lake proper. But
knowing that I’d be sinking a lure in waters, which connected to
waters that harbored 50-pound lakers maintained the mystery.
To fish Nipigon itself would have required considerably more
driving, not to mention a rugged and extensive snowmobile trek – a
trip better for small groups.
First
setting eyes on the Nipigon River brought chills. A world record brook trout came from these waters.
The
caravan pulled to the right.
We were at one of Gord Ellis’ honeys.
Shoulder-side,
the team was met by another Canadian outdoor writer, one who brook
trout fear. Ontario Out
of Doors contributor, James Smedley, traveled six hours south and
west to fish with ON ICE TOUR.
Smedley hails from WaWa, a mining and tourist town off the
Trans-Canada Highway. From
Wawa, Smedley writes, his wife looks after a gift and craft shop,
and a four-ton goose statue looks over the all of them.
Some claim that Wawa’s famous goose is the most
photographed landmark in North America.
There’s
no way you can call a guy named James Smedley by his first name.
His surname is much too fun to say.
Smedley. Although,
after hours and days of fishing and bonding Smedley evolved into “Smedmeister”,
“The Smedster”, and “Smeds”.
According
to Gord, our fishing destination was home to excellent numbers of
lake trout, sizable whitefish, obnoxiously large burbot – that’s
“eelpout” to Gord’s American friends – and tape-measure
brookies, which were out of season but might show.
Gord
put us on a necked down section of the lake that featured a 40 to
50-foot deep trough of good width.
A lone and uninhabited shanty shared the site.
The only other pedestrians on the lake were a pod of locals
– a mile or so away – who trudged through a lot of slush to get
there. Gord called their whereabouts a “community spot”.
I called it virgin. Everything’s
relative.
Again,
we bore dozens of holes and the team spread out.
Gord
and Smedley got busy setting what looked like hangman’s rigs, a
squared wood base, short post, and dowel, which hung at a right
angle over the hole. On
it, they balanced a spinning outfit that was rigged with a lively
Pearl Ellis’. Gord
explained that reading the rig is the art.
He watches the rod tip for “nervous minnow syndrome” and
other subtle clues. Occasionally,
something strikes with enough vengeance to flip the stand over –
no subtlety there.
Score
one for Smedster, he struck first blood.
Smeds set the hook with fluid authority and iced a fine laker.
And then another. A Smedley clinic ensued.
Leaden skies wouldn’t hinder Smedster’s lakers.
Gord
strutted over to him and I thought I saw them exchange “low
fives”. Something
smelled rotten in Ontario. Competition
was spawned. The
Canadians were rallying. And
I wasn’t the only one to notice.
Soon
after, Brian “Bro” Brosdahl smoked a laker on a Berkley Power
Tube and Chip and Tommy cheered.
They felt the same patriotism that gushed through my veins,
as well as the developing contest. I wanted to start The Wave.
I
wasn’t counting, but it seemed like Team USA out-fished Team
Canada. Ultimately, the
collective organization left the ice with a clutch of lake trout,
with the largest pushing six or seven pounds.
Time
to hit the road.
Chip
was loaded and pulled out. Next
came Tommy. Gord
followed in line. Billy
and the boys swung around and headed for camp.
Bro and I, in lollygagger fashion, brought up the back.
But to our surprise, we weren’t the last transport to
depart. A hundred yards
in front of us was a partially ditched pickup truck with its drive
wheel sunk and spinning. It’s
operator…Smedley, a Canadian.
Even
during times of war it’s difficult to march past a critically
wounded adversary. Bro
wanted to leave the Maple Leaf-loving sole to the dogs, or timber
wolves, but empathy got the better of me.
Exchanging few words with the enemy, Bro positioned the Sub
while I fastened chains. With
a burst of 4-high the Canadian conscript was freed, and only his ego
damaged.
Dinner
was served at Old Fort William, a staple tourist attraction that is
steeped in history. The
fort and its staff depict the fur trade activities of the NorthWest
Company circa 1815.
A
coterie of new arrivals joined ON ICE TOUR for a fur trader’s
feast, and subsequent days of fishing.
First, there was Brad Dokken, outdoor columnist for the Grand
Forks Herald, a writer who takes his craft beyond “hook &
bullet” – I read him regularly on the web.
Next came Eric Sharp, a legend in outdoor journalism and
staffer at The Detroit Free Press.
Eric is an accomplished fly fisherman as well as wine
connoisseur, a sort or Renaissance man. Then there was Larry Curthoys, an outdoor writer who hails
from Schenectady. Schenectady
lies upstate in New York’s bluer and greener regions, not the Big
Baseball and Clinton-fatigue parts.
Last
but not least was a pair from the windy city.
The
affable Mike Seeling is photo editor for the Chicago Daily Herald.
He’s been within arms reach of greatness that most will
only see on TV and in print, including courtside of basketball’s
greatest ever, Michael Jordan.
Earlier,
Tommy asked me if I’d ever met Mike Jackson.
I said no. He
went on to say, “that to meet
Mike Jackson is to experience
Mike Jackson.” So my
maiden Mike Jackson experience was at Old Fort William, where upon
request, he regaled the dinner party with a humorous and animated
narrative. The man can
deliver. Mike J. pens
outdoor columns for the Daily Herald, in addition to hosting Mike
Jackson Outdoors, a popular radio show.
Heaping
plates were passed from guest to guest.
A long day on the ice nurtured healthy appetites.
We ate like starved fur traders.
The
mess hall windows illuminated the dark Ontario sky and seasonally
vacated fort. Muffled
laughter and cheer could be heard from the street.
Quite a party.
The
next day’s plans included Lake Superior.
Webmaster’s
notes:
Noel Vick is a freelance outdoor writer and member of ON ICE TOUR. meadowlark@uswest.net
Special
thanks to:
-
Bill
Lindner Photography (651) 487-0586, www.blpstudio.com
-
The Best Western Nor’Wester
Resort Hotel, located on Highway 61 in Thunder Bay, Ont.
They can be reached at 1-888-473-BEST (2378) or www.norwester.net
-
Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources Great Lakes Heritage Coast
Project
(807) 475-1274, www.mnr.gov.on.ca and www.ontarioslivinglegacy.com
-
Sleeping Giant Taxidermy & Bait
(807) 622-9989
-
Old
Fort William
(807) 473-2344, www.oldfortwilliam.on.ca/homepage.html
-
CANUSA
Travel Information Network (807)
475-3035, www.gottagonorth.com
-
The
Neebing Road House
(restaurant & tavern) on Highway 61, across from the Best
Western
-
Nor’Wester Resort Hotel (807) 475-0792
-
Airlane
Catering
(Travel Lodge) (807)
473-1607
-
Wisk-Air
(helicopter service) (807)
475-4510
Tight Lines,
Noel
Vick
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