Saturday, July 5, 2014

Grouse Hollow Journal for July 3, 2014



Last week we took our annual Canadian fishing trip to Keystone Lodge in Ontario. After spending a couple weeks gathering groceries, going through our old gear and buying some new necessary gear – okay, stuff I wanted whether I needed it or not anyway, booking a hotel, and visiting the Shetler boys up on Oak Ridge to purchase some night crawlers, we went south. Our often-time Canadian traveling companion and niece Angie Wright (she is Barb and Chuck's baby) was married to Brent Flesh on June 21 in Potosi. Her godmother, Ellen and I (did I mention that I'm her favorite uncle?) photographed her wedding day. It was a tad hot but perfect with lots of family and friends, laughter, speeches, good food, good drink, good music, and beautiful subjects for pictures. We stayed that night with my sister, Carolyn and her husband Jamie Scholl in Cassville.

On Sunday morning, Carolyn made coffee and served us muffins and long johns filled with raspberry cream while she warmed up a spicy breakfast casserole that Jamie made on Saturday. We visited for an hour and head north to home.

We weren't there for more than an hour. Poor Scout. She followed me to the pickup and back a couple times, obviously waiting for an invitation into the back. She gets good care from Jake and Pearl, so I am not worried about her too much. We headed out of Proksch Coulee by 11:30 – destination International Falls, Minnesota. We listened to a book on CD, John Grisham's Calico Joe. Good baseball story. We started a Louis Lamour novel on CD after that. We got a Subway at 7 PM that night in International Falls and checked into our hotel. It did not take either one of us long to crash that night after motoring the full length of Wisconsin and Minnesota north to south.

After breakfast Monday morning, I looked out our window and there was a guy opening up his rig, a Subaru pulling a Tiny Trailer. I called to him from our second floor room and asked if they ever slept in this little “camper.” He said, “Come on down and I'll show it to you.” This Tiny Trailer, is, well, tiny. It looks like an overgrown car top ski carrier. It is aerodynamically beetle shaped, maybe seven feet long. The elderly man, okay maybe 10 years older than me, opened up the rear hatch to display a full camp kitchen complete with gas camping stove, dishes, silverware, a place to work, and even USB ports. Inside the sleeping area, there is a 6' 3” mattress. His wife came along and said they had slept in it over 40 times in 2014. “It has more room than a pup tent,” she said, “and if the weather looks threatening, we get a hotel.” They were pulling it with a loaded down Subaru Forester, and she said they averaged over 20 miles to the gallon. (I didn't tell them that we were getting over 21 mpg with our loaded to the gills four-wheel drive Ranger pickup.) The catch on the cute little camper is the price. New, it sells for $15,000; I can get a whole lot of hotel rooms where there is a hot shower and at least queen-sized beds for that much folding money, and usually there is breakfast and hot coffee, that we don't have to make. Okay, I think I would become claustrophobic in that little space too. The couple was really nice though. They said they have been to some get-togethers of Tiny Camper people and really enjoyed them I wished them well, and I did not ask them why they were staying at a motel on this beautiful 90-degree plus day.

Monday morning must be the doldrums at the US/Canadian border, at least at International Falls and Fort Frances. After paying our $6 bridge crossing toll, we drove right up to the one and only border gate open. The young man was polite, checked our passports, asked a couple of questions, and wished us a good trip. Gasoline in Ontario is a hefty $5.60 a gallon or $1.49 a liter.

We got to Dryden and then Vermillion Bay and then Keystone Lodge without incident. On the way, Ellen spotted a sow and cub bear along the highway and she got some pictures. The lupine and indian paintbrush are flowering and there are millions of dragon flies or helicopter bugs. There was evidence of high water and flooding in a lot of places, but we only had to drive through water over a highway once, north of Vermillion Bay and there were Canadian DOT types monitoring each trip through the flood. (We could see the yellow and white lines on the road, so it wasn't so bad I guess.)

The 8 miles of gravel, rock, and dirt road into Keystone showed the wear and tear of many inches of rain, but it was easily traversed. There were flowers and butterflies all along the drive that is surrounded by “the bush,” thicker than usual I think. Our host, Dave Frostiak welcomed us at the lodge office and we visited some. The rest of his crew were in town filling up on supplies for the camp fry and week in camp.

El unpacked our coolers and supplies in cabin 11, while I took the pickup down to the boat launch and outfitted our fishing boat with our depth finder and trolling motor. It was warm and humid and windy and gray and the sky promised rain, but we were on the lake by 2:30 that afternoon. We started at a 2013 hot perch fishing spot several miles across the lake. We got nada, fishwise at first, but we did get wet. There was thunder and then a downpour. We sat under our big umbrellas and continued to fish. When it let up, we motored to Portage Bay and tried another favorite perch weed line. There had been enough rain that as soon as the boat got up on plane, I pulled the rear plug to drain the bilge. In Portage Bay, we hammered the perch, little bitty ones mostly – no keepers. We did put a few nice walleyes in the boat though, so we had enough for a fish fry. We got wet again, on the ride back across the lake, bouncing and bucking from one whitecap to another, splashing spray up into the wind and into our faces. El fixed boiled potatoes for supper and I fried the walleyes. After a hot shower, I made popcorn and we watched part of Lonesome Dove (we could only watch one episode as I forgot the DVD controller and it doesn't have front buttons to choose options like episode 2). I saved the evening by grabbing out Grumpy Old Men. We crashed at 11 PM, just after dark. It was still storming out.

On Tuesday morning, the temperature dropped dramatically and the storm continued; it was windy and rainy. I fried bacon while Ellen prepared eggs and toast for breakfast, and then we put on our rain gear and we went visiting; Leann Frostiak met us in the bait shop and invited us in to warm up. We visited with the Frostiak's long enough to have coffee and solve the problems of the world. Leann lost her mother to cancer in the winter and she has a long hard time of it. Daughter Heather has only one year of college yet to finish her nursing degree. Dave said, of my three sons, only Doug stayed on at the lodge. Doug has a degree in resort management and wants to do this as a career. Mike and Jeff work at the mines at Red Lake. He said minimum wage to start there was $23 an hour. “I can't compete with that here,” he said.

We got on the water by midday, motoring to Convention Bay and some good walleye and perch spots – usually. Here and there we picked up a fish. Ellen is famous for all the northerns she hooks and she finally hooked a little slimer – northern pike are slick with slime and stink like garbage, think wet dog - after rolling in fish guts on a hot day, when you get them in the boat. The rain held off and the wind started to subside. We were back in time for the 4 PM camp fry where all the camp comes out for a dinner prepared by the hosts. This year's main entree was pulled pork sandwiches, but the usual baked beans, potato salad, and wonderful cakes were present. El and I sat with a group of guys from Dallas, Texas. We discussed the Cowboys and their beloved owner – yes, I am being facetious – they all hate Jerry Jones. They are not real thrilled by their prospects again this season. One guy was a Bear fan who lived in Minneapolis for much of his life, hating the Vikings and Packers. Ouch. We were too tired to go fishing and started watching Hidalgo before we had to hit the sack.

Until next time, get out – more next time. Have a great 4th of July! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for the week of June 26, 2014

I took this shot of a huge bull moose that was feeding in a bay near the Mounds in Peephole bay one evening while we were fishing.

Ellen shot this  angry hen grouse that was protecting her chicks while El was out for a walk in the bush.

El got this shot of a sow bear along highway 502.  The cub ran for cover.

This is a bear track on the road near the camp that Ellen shot while on a walk.

Down the hatch!  This is a different view of Ellen's big walleye.


23" walleye

13.5" perch

18.5" small mouth


“How high's the water, Mama? Six feet high and rising.” The Mighty Mississip and Ma Nature are tag teaming, ushering in summer with all we need weather wise to remind us that they still hold all the cards. We have only had a couple inches of rain but lots of thunder and lightening in our coulee - almost every other day. I have to admit that I love a good thunderstorm. I sit out on the porch and watch the fairly limited horizon of Proksch Coulee for lightning bolts after each kaboom. I don't know what I like about them, but I usually find them fascinating, comforting maybe for some reason. I usually sleep right through a big thunderstorm. I remembering learning once that while one might not see the lightning, it is the electric charge that makes thunder. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, more than 80 percent of lightning stays inside the clouds where it usually can’t be seen.

El and I have seen some dandy thunderstorms - when we probably could have done without them. I remember one out west when we were on I-90 headed east. The clouds rolled and grew to towering heights, lightning flashed across the sky for miles and miles and thunder didn't just rumble, it exploded overhead and then it rained, hard. Two summers ago, I was fishing with Scout north of Stoddard. We had almost a limit of panfish in the livewell and I was talking to Randy Swenson on the phone with my back turned toward the west. I felt it before I saw it, a cool breeze on the edge of the front. I hung up, grabbed my huge umbrella, while my erstwhile waterdog scrambled to be under my seat. We headed out into big rain drops that got too big to bother with the umbrella flopping in the wind from moving and from the storm. We made it back to the landing in a direct downpour with bolts of lightning chasing us in. Afterwards, I got to thinking that maybe we should have just made a run for shore and got our metal lightning rod and selves off the water. The worst I have ever seen was in Canada on Cedar Lake. Ellen and I were fishing by Barb and Chuck in Portage Bay when we heard the thunder over the nearby hill. By the time we got our anchors up and rain gear on, it was raining. We motored around the point into a head wind that was kicking up three foot whitecaps. Knowing what I know now, we should have just stayed put, setting out the storm in the fairly protected bay. Anyway, after an exciting -okay, maybe wild or spine tingling might be better - boat ride, we all finally managed to get into a safe harbor on the point of an island and waited out the storm there. They all hollared at me when I dropped a jig in the water because there was still lightning around. Then there was the night we went out to eat with Jeff and Kathi Cermak and came back to blocked roads and downpours, accented with thunder and lightning. Our neighbor Tony Gerdman was out on a tractor in the dark moving downed tree limbs off the road by his house. Jeff wanted us to watch the Badgers on his new big screen that night but the storm blocked the signal. We went home and slept through the storm - at least I did. The next morning we had 8 inches of water in our basement, no power, and lots of traffic by our house. Later, we heard that we had nearly a foot of rain in a couple of hours and that a house had come down off the hillside in a mudslide along highway 35. Anyway, it gets hard to remember that here is really nothing anyone can do about this weather but stay inside or wear rain gear.
Anyway, by the time you read this, we will probably be back from our annual trip to Canada. Ontario and northern Minnesota have had some flooding issues on the roads we usually travel so we shall see. Gordie and Curt were in North Dakota this last week, fishing on Devil's Lake. Their first report wasn't exactly great. They caught a bunch of northerns and three walleyes and had high winds to deal with. No doubt we'll hear more later this week.Former physics teacher and my good buddy, Bob Bonine has had Lou Gherig's disease for going on two years.  It sucks.  He's Bob; he still likes his bloody marys and going out to eat at Rockies and Diggers and playing poker, but now he has to use a wheelchair to go any distance, and it is getting harder for him to talk because the wiring of his respiratory system is failing.  He still has his great sense of humor and gets on okay with the help of his better half, Roxanne.  Anyway, I would like to remind folks that dealing with this incurable and ultimately fatal condition takes a toll on people's lives. If you would like to help, the La Crosse Area ALS Support Group's Chicken Q and Silent Auction is to be held Sunday, June 29, 2014 at Veteran's Memorial Park in West Salem from 11:00 AM to 4:00 PM.  Tickets can be purchased by contacting RoxAnne Fox -foxrox54601@gmail.com or calling Connie Troyanek at 608-788-0670.  All earnings will be kept locally to help families who have a loved one diagnosed with ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis).Until next time, get out - finally, I want to congratulate Coach Pete Swanson and the Viroqua Blackhawks Baseball team on their great run to the “big show” in high school baseball.  Great job guys.  Enjoy.