I Know You Won't Believe This
- BRIAN BEERS
- Dec 26, 2024
- 7 min read
I spent 6 months living with my brother and his wonderful wife and 5 kids in Rockford, Illinois. I worked at a local hardware store and slept on a pullout couch in the living room. It was an idyllic time for me to experience this wonderful harmonious family. I was there because I had been kicked out of college and needed to show a 6-month work stint in order to be able to re-enroll. I had hitchhiked around the country for three months and just needed to settle down. I had made the perfect choice.
The family had many friends in the lovely neighborhood. One day the folks from across the street came to celebrate one of the kids birthdays. While they were there, the father of the family, John, began telling my brother about the canoe and fishing trip he had planned. My brother and I both loved fishing and the out-of-doors, so we listened intently.
He and his son were going to drive from Rockford to Sault St. Marie, Michigan at the Canadian border. They would cross into Canada and catch a train that ran through a vast area of roadless wilderness. They would load their canoe and fishing and camping gear on the baggage car, and board the train. The train would stop somewhere in the wilderness at a point they had identified on a topographic map. The location was next to a lake. They would then fish, camp, and canoe for a week in this roadless, uninhabited area and then be picked up again by the train on its return journey.
“Zowie. I want to do that trip sometime. That is fabulous.”, I said to myself.
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“Bart, Bart, Wake up. We are about to cross into Canada.”
Bart awakened and rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”
“We’re at the Soo you idiot. Look ahead. That’s the bridge across the Soo Canal that connects Lake Superior to Lake Huron. Across that bridge and we are into Canada.”
We had left Carbondale, Illinois in the late afternoon, and had stopped briefly for a snooze in my Volkswagen campervan.
It was a 12 hour trip to the Soo, on our way to the Algoma wilderness. Bart and his wife had specifically come to visit us in Carbondale from Philadelphia so that he and I could head to the Algoma wilderness. We had been college buddies. He caught the fever when I described what I had heard about it.
We crossed the bridge, went through the formalities at the checkpoint (it only required driver’s license in those days) and headed straight to the Agawa Canyon train station. It was 6:00 AM when we crossed the border. It was only a short way to the station. The train departed at 8:00 AM.
Fortunately, everything we needed was available at the station. The first thing we needed was an outfitter. Inside the station was the Outfitters SSM. They had the items we needed that we didn’t bring -canoe, paddles, life vests, waterproof bags for our stuff, topographic maps of the Agawa Canyon wilderness with portages and camp sites noted.
We had brought most of the required stuff ourselves: Tent, sleeping bags, air mattresses, cooking gear, bagged food, gas stove, rain gear, ground cloth, fireplace grill, shake and bake, cooking oil, and most important, fishing gear.
We got our gear all packed, got the tickets and headed to the train. There we loaded all the gear onto the baggage car.
It wasn’t long before we settled in on that great train.
Into the Agawa wilderness we went.
And it wasn’t long before the train stopped for us and we had our canoe in the water in the trackside lake.
Our adventure began.
“Have you ever paddled a canoe before, Bart?”, I asked.
“No shit Sherlock. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know how to paddle. Why are you asking me now?”
“I am nervous. I have also paddled but never in a two-man canoe. You are the bigger stronger guy, so I think you should be in the stern. Is that OK?”
“Exactly what I thought. Get your wimpy ass up in the bow and keep us going straight.”
“OK. I have the map and compass, so I will be the navigator. That all fits.”
“Let’s go.”, he said.
And we were off. It was only about 10 AM so we had most of the day.
About an hour in, Bart said, “When are going to fish? Paddling is OK, but I came to fish too.”
I said, “Why not right now? Let’s get our gear together and the lures in the water.”
In less than an hour we had boated at least 6 walleye, although we did have some northern pike hit the lures as well. We released the pike and put the walleye on the stringer.
“Let’s get on the shore over there and have a bit of lunch.”, I said.
“Yes, I could eat half a cow. What do we have?”
“Well, it’s not going to be a cow. You know , I had to prep all this stuff by myself, so take what you get and be quiet.”
“Oh my. Little miss good boy is barking.”
“Shut up you jerk.”
Bart and I had always been pretty competitive. I guess being in the wilderness didn’t change that.
We got to shore and I got out the lunch.
“Here you are dickhead. Feast away. We have beef jerky, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and gorp.”
“What the hell is gorp?”
“Silly. Raisins, peanuts and M&Ms”
“Anything to drink?”
“Just water. The hootch is for the nights. This is the water we brought with us. As we use it, we need to replace it with purified water. I brought Halazone tablets. Also Kool-Aid because the process leaves a bad taste.”
“No beer I bet.”
“No shit. We can’t lug that.”
“OK. Let’s have this wonderful repast and head on to wherever we are going to camp.”
“Yes, we should stop early. I have laid out a circle route of possible camp locations for the week that will get us back to the train stop in seven days.”
“How many miles per day?”
“Somewhere between 10 and 20. This means 3 to 6 hours of paddling. Want to leave plenty of time for fishing. We also need to keep the overall pace in case the wind kicks up and slows us down.”
We kept going, stopping now and then for a little while to fish. In late afternoon, we decided to stop and set up camp. It was our first night doing it so we were not sure how long it would take.
First, the tent.
Then our sleeping rolls. Then our cooking gear. It wasn’t long before we had our fish for the day cooking on the cook stove we had brought along. We had fileted the fish, and then breaded them and then into the frying pan.
We covered all our gear with a tarp and weighted it down with rocks from around the campsite. It was not close to the tent. We were just hopeful that there would be no bears. We had not brought enough rope to hoist our stuff into a tree.
We were exhausted. It had been a very eventful day. We were in the tent and fast asleep early.
In the morning we first inspected our gear. No critters had done anything to it. Next we made camping coffee (coffee grounds in the pot and boiled together). Next some hot water for instant oatmeal. Then some dried apricots and bagels with cream cheese (it takes a while to go bad).
We broke camp and were on our way. This day was pretty much like the first until we came to the end of the lake and had to haul our canoe and gear to the next lake via a portage trail.
It was work but we did it. We worked that lake just like the first. The trip I had laid our required 3 more portages.
The rest of this second day, and 3 more were pretty much the same as the first, canoeing, fishing, eating and camping.
By day 6, it became apparent that Bart wanted to show me that he had become as good a fisherman as I was. I had long experience, but he was a novice before coming on this trip.
Bart said,” I bet I can catch more fish today than you. In fact, I will bet you a hundred bucks.”
“Well, this is the last day we can spend fishing a lot. But we have to get close to the train pickup spot, because it will be morning when they pick us up. How many hours can we spend fishing today. I think 6 is enough.”
Well, we fished for 5 hours as we headed to our last day campsite. Bart was definitely tailing me.
Bart jostled me with, “You know, you have an unfair advantage. You knew what lures to bring and you have been using them. Me, I just picked up some based on that guy at the tackle shop telling me. I think my lures suck. How about I get to use your lures, and we’ll see who is really a better fisherman.”
“OK Bart. Here is my favorite lure. Let’s see what you can do.” With that I gave him my favorite Rapala.
Bart was fishing no more than 10 minutes when he hit a lunker, probably the biggest of the trip.
“Be careful Bart. Bring him in slowly. Not too much tension on the line.”
No sooner had I said that when the line broke and the walleye was gone with my favorite lure.
“Shit Ian. I am really sorry. I should have been more careful. I was really anxious to get that one,”
And I know you won’t believe this, but I said, “ Don’t you worry Bart, I will get it back. Just watch this.”
On my very next cast, I had a very strong hit. I held my breath and slowly brought it in.
Wow, it really was the same fish with my favorite lure hanging out of its mouth.
Bart shouted, “I give up. You are a better fisherman. You win. I will give you the hundred bucks when we get back to Carbondale.”
The rest of the trip was uneventful. The train picked us up at the appointed time, we got back the Soo and headed back to Carbondale. We were now experienced wilderness campers.
And I know you won’t believe this.
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