SEPTEMBER 28 FISHING REPORT

 
Hey Sportsfans —
 

A jig and a minnow, that’s all you need to be a successful fishermen on Lake of the Woods. 

The scenery out on the lake is starting to get golden, with the leaves falling and the colors changing. What isn’t changing is the great fish that our fishers have been reeling up. 

The charters have traveled all over the lake and still find it to be constant. Guides have reported that the fish are “thick out there”. 

Worms are no longer what the fish seem to be going after; frozen shiners and colorful jigs are what the fish want. 

Fishing out on the lake has been better than in the river; all we are waiting for is the shiners to run so we can fish the Rainy River. 

—

Fall Classic rates are good until October 22nd. Give us a shout (#218.634.1849) to get up here one more time before the snow and ice hit us. 

SET THE HOOK!

SEASON 4, EPISODE 1

Season 4—Episode 01 (Clearance Clarence) 

Six days remaining in prep week until the first guests arrive at FSFO (Flathers and Scales Fishy Outfitters). With nine camp boats the chore of rigging was explicitly Rusty Flathers’. Let’s get his day started!

Fisheries Biology. This was his university major at East Jesus U, (location East Jesus, Indiana) studying under now current business partner Professor Cosmoid Scale. Each was attempting to flip their knowledge of subsurface aquatic species (things that swim underwater) into a successful world-class NW Ontario fishing camp. Basically, men—doing men things—or so they thought.

Meanwhile, Ms. Sally Squatsnfishes, Rusty’s girlfriend and let’s be honest “I’m going to save you from making most of the mistakes in your life” better half, sat on the main deck of the grand lodge with their shared British Labrador puppy Link snuggled in her lap—waiting for her man to make his first of potentially many miscues.

Did she love Rusty for his ambitions? YES. Did she think it would be possible for him and Cos to pull off the opening of this fishing camp without her efforts? NO. And if it weren’t for the bullet hole in her shoulder, she would already be down by the boat house showing Rusty how to properly mount a trolling motor and gear it for action.

Remember how we got to Season 4? Sally is a kick-ass world-renowned outdoor fashion model.… Also, she’s a smoke show, triple top secret international espionage agent (one of the original Three-Eagles)…. And finally, she is a stacked for success, woman of the out-of-doors world!

“Now, let’s see how our man does, mounting these new trolling motors,” Sally whispers into Link’s ear while seated comfortably, watching from a distance, and recovering from her recent near drowning with the bonus gunshot wound to the shoulder.

Rusty, at the boat house: “It looks like I need to start at the bow with this new Minn Kota electric trolling motor—wire it to a 24 volt loop for power—install an onboard charger—pair the two trolling batteries with 24 volts of power—sync the handheld remote with the power head. Seems simple enough. Then I turn the switch on and go. Yes? Yes, a solid plan.”

An hour and some change later…. “Son of a bee sting!” he shouted across the island…. A direct result of unsuccessfully wiring 24 volts to an incomplete circuit providing only 12 volts of power, thus igniting the contact posts on the batteries making them appear to be sparklers lit during a Fourth of July celebration.

If it were not for the fact that gas fumes inside the great Norway (end of Season3) had previously claimed much of the brown curly locks on his now bandana covered head, there may have been more hair follicle collateral damage. As it turned out with this incident, only his eyebrows were now temporarily singed.

From her safe distance…. Sally kept her composure, telling herself, “Ahhhhhh, yeahhhhhh, I’m just going to sit this one out. But dang, he’s got a sweet set of lungs on him. Those ripples he formed across the surface of the harbor, reverberating toward the main lake, that’s also impressive!”

“Maybe I should take a closer look at the installation manual?” was Rusty’s next thought after splashing lake water on his smoldering eyebrows. “Hmmm…. Wiring a 24 volt trolling motor to a 12 volt system may cause it to overheat and suffer damage.” Thus, we have our explanation for the smoke coming from the head of the trolling motor.

“Hey Cos, do we have a repair pile?” was Rusty’s inquiry upon entering the boat house with the trolling motor in hand. “We may be one motor short, at the beginning of our season.”

          “I’m reminding myself that a portion of your degree was in Aquatic Ecosystems, and not Electrical Engineering. Here, let me have a look at it.”

“Thanks Cos, sorry for the mishap.”

          “Hey, we’re both novel at this, no worries. Besides, it’s a simple fix,” he said while replacing the 20 amp fuse and putting the cover back on the head of the motor. “Should be good as new, seeing how it’s actually an original unit.”

Meanwhile, back on the deck of the lodge Sally continued basking in the morning sunshine, watching its powerful luster glisten off the spruce and poplar that were positioned closest to the water’s edge. And oh, what a sight… Because now, perched high in the top of the tallest bare limbed Norway, there were the two bald eagles she had witnessed prior and one new golden eagle who had joined the duo in a ghost-like manner. Unannounced—showing no ill will—simply joining the ranks to complete the connection of her Three Eagles.

This was followed, within minutes, by a small blue and silver tin skiff bombing around the corner of the island and idling down into the bay near their docks. A new visitor driving a very well-used boat.

From a distance she could identify: male, older, weathered and outdoorsy. And by the looks of the Yamaha outboard motor (Duct tape holding the cowling together) strapped to the back of the transom, a very trusting individual who put great faith in minor repair and maintenance.

“Ma’am…. Name’s Clarence Bishop,” said the man reaching out with a bow line to strap around a dock cleat. Seems you know my niece, Tawny.”

          “Ah, yes. I’m Sally Squatsnfishes.”

“I know who you are, I also know what you did to her.”

          “What I did to her?” Sally responded with a reeling mind. (I pray she hasn’t shared intel about The Kraken with this man.)

“You know—the bass fishing tournament—the one you botched for the both of you.”

          “Yes, correct, that was me.” (Does anyone in Canada NOT forget about something that happened in a fishing contest a decade ago?!?!)

“Anyway, that’s how I know you. But that’s not why I’m here.”

          “Then why are you here Mr. Bishop? Is there some way I can be of assistance?”

“Doubtful,” he responded. Thus, erasing any doubt that he was NOT a blood connected relative to Tawny. You had to be of Bishop lineage with such a short and confident retort.

          “OK, I’m not following,” continued Sally. “I can’t help you with anything, but you’re here because….”

“I’m here because my niece gave her word to sign on for a season, to help some Rusty Feathers fella start this fishing camp. And now she’s run off to the Yukon, claiming to be urgently called away by friends of our family. At least that’s what it said in the letter she left nailed to my cabin door.”

          “Um…. First, it’s Flathers—not Feathers. And are you saying you’re here to take her place?” (Whew…. She didn’t mention The Kraken…. Good.)

“I’m saying, when a Bishop signs on for something, we honor it. And like I said, she wrote in this letter that I needed to get myself out here ASAP to see that it happens. Can you follow what I’m saying, or do you need to see the letter?”

          “No…. No…. I get it. You’re here to help,” she finished. Also thinking (Do we really need this dude’s help? And if we do, then why in the heck is Tawny being so helpful without being asked?)

“You know Ms. Squatsnfishes, I’m getting a vision right now that you are questioning my integrity. Do you not see those three eagles perched in the tree?”

          “Um…. Yeah…. We would be honored to have your help Mr. Bishop.”

“You can call me Clarence. Now, where do I find this Feathers fella?”

–To Be Continued—  

SEPTEMBER 21 FISHING REPORT

Hey Sportsfans —

This September, the weather on Lake of the Woods is completely unpredictable. 

At the beginning of this week, people enjoyed the sun in 80-degree weather, eating their shore lunch and fishing. Then, by the end of the week, they were buying gloves and hot chocolate, shivering throughout the lodge. 

The keyword this week was: PATIENT 

Staying in the 26-30ft area will do you some good, only if you are willing to wait it out. 

Guides have traveled all over the lake and have found it to be consistent everywhere. Word is, the more colorful the jig, the more fish you reel up. 

Some of our charters have been fishing on the south side, towards the gap in the 30-foot area. This must have really been doing the trick; some were getting their limits before noon!

Don’t forget your warm gear and raincoats, summer is gone for real this time. 

—

Fall Classic rates are good until October 31st. Give us a shout (218.634.1849) to get up here one more time before the snow and ice hit us. 

SET THE HOOK!

SEASON 3, EPISODE 37

Season 3 – Episode 37 (Back to Business) 

Three women, a baker’s dozen Kraken Eggs, along with the corpses of Too Tall and Shorty Short accompanied Stash McGivern as he pointed his passenger boat south and headed for the mainland. “Let’s not make this a habit out here, Flathers! Seems as though people show up dead around you at this place!”—were his parting words.

Though he was officially exhausted, both mentally and physically, Rusty knew there was work to be done. Six days—count ‘em—SIX—until the opening day of FSF0 (Flathers and Scales Fishy Outfitters). And so far, the only thing they had nailed was the fishy part. Undercover Eagles, espionage secrets about Kraken Eggs, a drowned girlfriend (brought back to life) with a bullet hole through her shoulder. He had come to NW Ontario with ambitious luster to tame walleyes—northern pike—smallmouth bass—muskies…. Not digging skeletons out of septic tanks, climbing the inside of a tree to access a Witches Broom, or supervising a borderline looney (Hazel) who insisted on staying up all night to paint eggs. It was time for Rusty Flathers to get “Back to Business!”

The day prior…. When Sally poked and prodded her walking stick around the giant beast of a Norway Pine, she struck paydirt when she hit the bump on the root that looked like a face down egg salad serving spoon. The device, being solar driven, triggered a pressure release on the trunk of the tree that opened a hidden door of approximately 2ft X 4ft in size.

The mysterious gases emitted from inside the trunk were dodged by everyone. Everyone except Rusty Flathers. He took a straight on hit (downwind blast) that watered his eyes and nauseated his stomach, but otherwise no apparent permanent damage. Yet.

Once exposed to the inexplicable gas, it was then reasoned by Sally, Ellie, Hazel, Tawny and Cos that Rusty be the one to climb the interior ladder of the tree. After all—there was no HazMat suit available—and he had already been exposed to the pungent fumes.

“Stop pushing—stop pushing,” he pleaded to all five members of the audience that felt compelled to force him inside the trunk chamber. Then once his shoulders and hips had been cleared the space became manageable—albeit Closter phobic—lacking oxygen—genuinely damp and grotesque.

          “You’ll be fine honey, you’ll be fine” Sally encouraged from behind, while also noticing that a fairly large clump of brown locks from the back of his head was now missing as he disappeared inside the tree. “Just don’t rub your hair,” she continued.

But inside the trunk of this great beast of a Norway Pine, Rusty could no longer hear the world outside and missed her message, thus beginning his ascent of the magnificent tree. One at a time—two hundred and four feet to the top—maybe they would allow him a late lunch if he returned with the Kraken Eggs.

Halfway to the top…. Some wheels began to grind inside Rusty’s noggin. “Hey, you came to this island to fish, to own a fishing camp. You’re not just bait for catching someone else’s eggs. But maybe I am more than bait. Maybe I am trusted to accomplish what others might not. Keep climbing Rusty!”

Turned out… It was closer to suppertime when they returned to the main lodge at the camp, where he was fed a feast of kings for his efforts in retrieving the THIRTEEN Kraken Eggs. Fresh walleye fillets for everyone! Served over a heated bed of fantastic wild rice.

“Never thought I’d be sitting on an island in the Canadian wilderness, eating fish, thinking about the biology of Kraken eggs, and not be teaching fisheries biology at East Jesus U,” offered Cos to Ellie who was seated directly across the table.

          “Well, I signed up as a student aid with this whole Eagle Three thing, and now I have a Glock on my belt and Kraken eggs in the fridge,” she replied. “So, there’s that.”

“At least we will have stories for the incoming freshmen!” Cos returned and then reached out for a confirming clink with his fork.

Post dinner, Tawny rose from her seat and walked toward Rusty with palms held out suggesting he should rise. Then without notice she clasped his hands, gave him a wink and a nod for a job well done, and a rather obvious peck on the cheek. Was this act for Rusty, or just another jab at Sally? TBD.

And then (next in line) this was followed by a BIG ‘OL SMOOCHER from Ms. Sally Squatsnfishes herself. Big enough to weaken the knees and drain blood from Rusty’s brain. Big enough for Link (their British Lab puppy) to cover his eyes with both paws. Big enough for Cos to whistle unyieldingly while Ellie and Hazel screamed “Hey get a room!”

“I just hope my hair grows back,” Rusty added, after coming up for air following this kiss of all kisses.

           “Sweety, you’ll be fine. Everything’s fine,” Sally comforted. “Plus, I’m digging your whole Little Steven (Steven Van Zandt) E Street look with Link’s bright red bandana on your head.”

“You know…. This is probably the time where I would tell you to stay at the island…. See if my hair does grow back…. See what grows between us.”

          “But you’re not going to say it, are you Rusty?

This made him shrug his shoulders and step back a couple of paces while stammering, “You already know.”

Later that same night it was Hazel who continued to alarm Rusty, when she offered, “Seems odd all your hair fell out after getting doused with those gases, and your head is REALLY egg shaped, dude.”

It was also Hazel who insisted on staying up, beyond late, to paint the Kraken Eggs using bone marrow she had salvaged from a pile of northern pike bones. That and the box of Crayola Ultimate Crayon Collection, of which were Rusty’s, and yes coloring can be fun for adults as well as children.

Tawny and Cos had bombed out early to bed, immediately after supper, to their respective rooms in the bunkhouse. Then Ellie accompanied Sally to the nighty-night in the back bedroom of the main lodge (does Rusty need to be concerned AGAIN) #GoldRopeRanchRomance, and this left Rusty to caretake for Hazel who insisted on painting eggs. It was a Three Eagle settlement based on Hazel turning her Glock-19 over for safekeeping during resting hours.

Rusty did have to admit the coloring effect on the eggs was marvelous. Hazel used vibrant colors and delicate patterns to enrich the rather blah blah blah color of the dull white shapes.

“So, what’s the deal Rusty?” Hazel asked when the final of the thirteen eggs was completed to her satisfaction. “Are you and Eagle One a deal, or what?”

          “Well, between you and I,” he offered, “that’s a tough one to answer.”

“Seems like it shouldn’t be. But neither should Kraken’s, septic witches, or men with egg shaped heads and no hair.”

          “Sally’s a hard woman. My dad always told me to tread lightly around women who like furry cats and Stevie Nicks. But she shows little liking toward either.”

“Dude, you’re weird, but I get it. It’s like she wants to rule the world, but she doesn’t have to.”

          “Well, I guess when she leaves again in the morning, which I understand the three of you (Three Eagles) are leaving for Australia to complete your mission, I’ll have to take it at face value. Are we meant to be together? YES, I believe so. Does that mean it’s going to eventually happen? NO.

When morning came the silence between Rusty and Sally was palpable. He wanted her to stay, but he wasn’t going to beg or plead his case for her to stay.

And then—Stash McGivern pulled away from the dock with three women continuing their chase of The Kraken. Cos went to the boat house to gather tools to complete the dock work. Rusty returned to the chore of prepping skiffs with electronics, trolling motors, and fishing gear. And Ms. Sally Squatsnfishes sat on the deck of the grand lodge, resting calmly in the porch swing—Link nestled in her lap—a freshly brewed cup of Timmy’s in her hand—the Ontario spring sunshine bringing warmth to her heart and healing body.

Her silence was then pierced by an eagle’s cry. She immediately glanced upward into the rich blueness of the sky—and witnessed only TWO eagles circling.

-THE END-

Ready for Season Four?!?! YES… Sally opts to stay at the island to recoup from her wound, and to be with her man Rusty. Who was the “third woman” on Stash McGivern’s boat? Yep—you guessed it—Tawny Bishop. The one and only person most capable of filling Sally’s unfillable shoes. Best of luck to The Kraken. He will surely need it!