Lushcrush wrote:Just wondering ... how do you cook those trout?
You fillet 'em up just like a walleye, coat them with a little mix of flour and spices, and fry 'em up for an excellent shore lunch.
Calyxes, I tried to cut the hook with my multi-tool, but it was too tight of an area to get at. My only other options were to grap it with the pliers and yank (no thanks) or cut it out, I chose option #2.
I probably could have eaten the miserable thing, but with six hours yet to the campsite (two hours over land), and no live well or way to keep it refrigerated, the thing would have been long dead by the time we got to our camp, and set up. I like 'em fresh.
Anyhow, to continue, the rest of the trip was most excellent.
Only one day of light rain; which I spent a good part of in my tent napping, reading, and sipping from my flask of Dickle Brothers whiskey. Other than that it was 70-75, sunny, with a mild breeze that kept you nice and cool on the lakes.
The walleye fishing was really slow due to the previous weeks rains and the cool water temperature. We were probably about a week early for the prime walleye fishing. However, the cool water temperature had the lake trout cruising the shorelines in about 10-15 feet of water. We caught, and ate, plenty more of those guys. Perhaps even a relative of the one who had inflicted the damage on me. Hooked into quite a few nice smallmouth bass too, heavy fighting hogs.
Beautiful country up there, with plenty of wild life. Loons and ducks on every lake, beavers cavorting in front of a couple of our campsites, bald eagles drifting through the skies.
On our last day we camped on a small island about 40 feet across from the tip of a peninsula which was to be our pick-up point. Around six in the morning I exited my tent to relieve myself and after I'd done my business, I heard something slowly crashing through the underbrush on the peninsula across from our site. I squatted down and waited, thinking "Oh sheet, that better not be a bear."
Next thing I know, an enormous moose comes waltzing out of the woods and starts crossing the shallow, narrow straight directly towards our campsite on the island. Whoa! I slowly stood up and tried to stealthily make my way to my tent to retrieve my camera. The Moose froze. Busted. He stared at me for about 2 seconds, did a head bob, and took a sharp left turn into the deeper water with an gigantic sploosh. Amazing how such an enourmous beast can swim so well. He swam about 60 yards to a shoreline which was probably his original goal anyway. He just wanted to use our little island as a short cut. I did manage to get a couple shots of him swimming with nothing but his head above water.
Time to pack up and head home.