2026 Bear Hunt Day 4 - Seagull What Island

I really wanted to sleep in, but my brain had other ideas and the coffee maker was screaming at me.  So I got up and started my day.  It was getting light by the time the coffee was gone, so I chucked the lure a little bit and caught one pike off the dock.  I've caught quite a few pike off the docks by camp this year...

After breakfast, Locklar (sp?) took Pat and I upriver a ways to go after pike.  The water was rough from the wind, but most of the bays were sheltered enough to allow better conditions.  We fished mostly around and just above the rapids.  Numbers of fish caught were pretty good.  Most were small, but the activity was fun; this included catching a walleye on a chatterbait - in three feet of water.  That was quite unusual.  I did have a very ambitious small pike break my steel leader - losing my yellow chatterbait.  I was more than a bit bummed by this since it had been doing surprisingly well for me.

After lunch Chris took Rick and I way upriver.  Rick was dropped off at Ranger, and I went to the last bait at Seagull Shit Island.  I was glad to be going upriver; there is nothing wrong with the road baits, but hunting bears from boats is special.  As we cross some mythical plane on our way, it really starts to feel like I'm leaving civilization behind.  

I had to wear Vance's boots since the low water level meant wading in quite a ways in the shallow water.  I felt a little like Frankenstein, but it was better than wet feet.

I got situated and comfortable for the afternoon.  The weather was a comfortable cool and breezy.  It felt like a very beary day.  Not much was moving at first, and it struck me how much of bear hunting - how much of hunting - is just being comfortable in my own skin ... being in touch with nature and myself.  

Around 6:30 I caught something out of the corner of my eye and looked down/behind-me and saw a bear.  It was small - bigger than a cub, but not by much.  It must have smelled me and bolted off.  About 15 minutes later a bear came out to the bait.  I think it was the same bear, but it is really hard to tell.  It was a smaller bear and stayed in the area for quite a while.  As I watched it, I was pretty sure this was the same stand where I had major ground shrinkage after shooting a small bear; the log behind the bait looked suspiciously familiar.

A second bear came in which was definitely a bit bigger.  I still didn't think it was a shooter (or at least not a day 2 shooter).  But it was great to see a couple bears back to back.

The rest of the afternoon passed with lots of activity.  I'm not really sure how many bears I saw, and some of them didn't hang around very long.  But it was a fun night.  I didn't think any bears that I saw would break six feet and I'd like to stay above that in size.  We'll see what happens later in the week.

As dusk settled in I heard something to my right and glimpsed a wolf coming in.  It was only within sight for less than 10 seconds.  It didn't hang around long enough to have to make any kind of a decision.  It was neat to see, if only briefly.

As it got dark, one final bear came in.  It was too dark to see if it was three feet or 8 feet (it was somewhere between there).  It did look quite a bit bigger, but if it is too dark to adequately size it, it is too dark to shoot.  After a few minutes the bear crashed away as the boat came in to get me.

Rick had shot a pretty nice boar.  They tend to look smaller in the bottom of the sled, but it was a nice bear.  The wind had completely dissipated over the afternoon and the ride back to camp was wonderful.

It was a late night, but was able to turn in after a too-late dinner feeling fairly confident I had made the right choice in not shooting.  I was also fairly confident that it had been a really nice day and there are still several days to see more bears.

2026 Bear Hunt Day 3 - And The Wind Blows

I woke up to heavy rain in a very humid cabin.  I couldn't get back to sleep but quickly realized I had left my computer (and bear tags) in the lodge.  It was already a challenging morning....  At least the coffee was good.

I somehow survived until daylight, when I was able to reel in two more northern pike from the docks.  They were small, but the day was already improving.

After breakfast, Dave took Pat and I out for fishing.  The rain had moved out of the area and the conditions were generally improving - it was becoming a pretty nice morning.  We stayed in the area not too far from camp and cast for pike.  I brought in a couple small pike and, somewhat oddly, a few small bass in areas where normally I haven't previously caught bass.  But I'll take it!

I had started off using a chatterbait, but at some point switched to my favorite ... a spinnerbait.  Shortly after the switch, I hooked into one fairly nice pike.  It hit hard and took off, pulling drag line with it (my drag is set a little light).  It took a few minutes to bring it towards the boat.  SNAP!  The line broke.  I swore.  Then - very oddly - the line started pulling again.  I unswore and brought in a 34" pike.

What was very odd was that the lure had actually broken, not my line.  And since the hook part of the lure was no longer attached, I'm very confused about how I was able to bring in the fish.  Maybe he just really wanted to break the monotony of watery life for a few minutes.

After a tolerable, but a bit slow fishing morning and lunch and a nap, it was time for bears.

Weather was nice, but a bit breezy.  Forecast was for warm, but all the projections were for no rain.  Dave took Pat and I out on road baits; I was set up on Bear Creek.

The wind dramatically picked up after getting dropped off.  And it was generally toward the bait.  This was an uneasy situation.  And as often happens, I was having a difficult time settling in on the first night on the bear stand.

I won't say the wind made me uncomfortable being in a treestand, but it was close to that at times.  The afternoon passed rather slowly.  With less than optimal conditions, no bears showed up.  That is a long, long time to sit in a treestand in the lonely bear woods.

As darkness approached, it started to spit rain a bit.  This increased sporatically over the final hour or so in the stand until, when Dave finally came and got me in the darkness, it was full on raining.  My mood was sour.

Back in camp, only Kelly and Carla had seen any bears.  Carla had one which just stared and wouldn't come in.  Kelly (on the Meanest Sow in the Woods stand), saw three smaller ones and a decent one which also wouldn't come in.

No doubt the wind affected all of us.

I was ready to turn in after a far-too-late salmon dinner.

2026 Bear Hunt Day 2 - In Camp

After a much better night's sleep than the previous, I was up wwwaaayyy too early.  I read the entire internet before packing up and hitting the road.  I know they don't like it when I get to camp too early, but I can only putz around my hotel room for so long.  When I briefly thought about turning on my work computer, I knew it was time to go!

Not being in any hurry, I methodically made my way toward the border.  There were almost no other cars on the road, even in Warroad.  I got to the border and had a brief conversation with the Canadian Officer, then parked and headed in for the firearm paperwork.  I always appreciate the professionalism of the Canadian Border Security Officers.  I handed over my paperwork, had another brief friendly conversation and was on my way - a guest in a foreign country.

I continued on into Canada.  Traffic stayed exceedingly light all morning.  The drive was wonderful - scenic and easy.

I stopped once for coffee when I saw a sign for a "Coffee Bar", but that was a mistake - a big one.  The coffee was terrible, little more than brown water.  It was actually worse than the hotel coffee earlier in the morning.  So it goes...

I was glad when I finished Lies My Teacher Told Me.  OK read?  Meh...  Recommend?  No...  I finished the drive with some Garrison Keillor and an older podcast before turning everything off and just thinking back to my first bear hunt all those years ago.  I do that a lot on the final stretch of road.

I got gas and made my final few km into camp.  I parked at my cabin and walked to the lodge.  Carter and I talked for a bit; Maureen also stopped by.  It felt like visiting family.

I threw a lure for a bit while waiting for the cabin to be ready.  I caught two pike - this has to be a good sign - right?  One of them was even a reasonably decent size (not a monster).

With my cabin ready, I allowed myself a brief nap.  It was going to be a good week.  Another pike at the dock and a bit more forced down time before heading into the lodge.

Dinner was chicken cordon bleu while we all started to get to know each other.  The real adventure starts in the morning.

2026 Bear Hunt Day 1 - Driving and Driving Some More

The hotel was ... 3 stars at best.  I can't blame the hotel for all the other denizens slamming their door, but I can blame the hotel that every single one of them felt like it shook the whole building.  I had to resort to turning up the AC fan and wearing ear plugs, even then it seemed like my neighbors were coming through the walls.
Not surprisingly, I woke up with a headache.

But a couple cups of barely adequate hotel pod coffee put me in a good start.  I wasn't in a hurry so I stuck around long enough for hotel waffles.  There were ... ok ... maybe hotel waffles should be reserved for motorcycle trips.

I was on the road right around daybreak.  Traffic was minimal at first.  It picked up around Madison, Wisconsin (predictably), then slowly drained away through the day.  By the time I was in northern Minnesota, there were so few cars it was almost eerie, but in an oddly tranquil way.  It started to rain around Wisconsin Dells and rained for several hours until I got somewhere just south of Superior, Wisconsin.  Most drivers were taking it easy, so it wasn't a bad drive even with the rain.

I continued listening to Lies My Teacher Told Me.  It didn't get better and didn't get worse.  I learned a little, disagreed a little and drifted off a little.  While it probably helped make the drive more enjoyable, I'm ready for it to be done.  My biggest take-aways from it are 1) History is complex and 2) History is better explained as the unintended consequences of millions of poorly-made decisions (and I still say Loewen should STFU and write a better textbook...).

I watched the miles count down through the day, stopping for some new and ever more questionable snacks.  With my recent oral surgery, I still feel the need to be a bit careful about what and how I eat.  At one point somewhere Squaw Lake, I looked at the beautiful scenery, the near complete lack of any other cars and just thought, "This is absolutely incredible."  And I meant it.

I kept driving, stopping in the town of Baudette to get gas before stopping for the night.  In the morning, I'll be crossing the border on my final leg to the land of black bears (and wolves and pike and smalleys and, and and).

2026 Bear Hunt Day -0.5 - Sometimes Struggle Is The Solution

A picture came up in my history feed a few days ago from our 2017 Total Eclipse adventure.  It reminded me of how much things have changed in the last nine years.  Minor health issues; reminders that my body has an expiration date even if I don't know when that is.  A special needs dog; the universe revolves around her as she slowly becomes the dog she might have always been.  It's been three years since I've done any kind of motorcycle trip and six since S/O and I have done one together.  Work responsibilities have increased, even if I'm convinced most of what I do doesn't matter.

“The universe is Time's body.” - John Crowley, Little, Big

But sometimes it seems like something has been lost.  I have no reason to complain; I know I'm incredibly fortunate.  We lose things because we first have things to lose.

And if I look at it objectively, it is hard to say I've lost much when I'm on a 1000+ mile journey to hunt and fish.

I was mulling this over as the week before bears progressed.  I took a few hours of precious vacation time to mow the fantastically long lawn on Wednesday, packed up Thursday and had a final shortened day at work Friday.  I was able to leave with Inbox near zero so I'll count that as a win (big time).  I was on the road shortly after noon.

I easily settled into the drive.  Indianapolis was bonkers, but at least there was less construction than I recall from my last time through; Indy NEVER has no construction.  Then traffic lightened considerably for the remainder of the day.

I was listening to Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James Loewen.  It was mildly interesting and informative, but he certainly seemed to be selective on what he chose to complain about and his principles were applied erratically (so maybe the aren't really principles).  It wasn't bad, but it was too easy to let my mind wander, especially since it was quite repetitive.  I'll need to finish the book to make a final judgement, but all I can say is after writing a 20 hour book, he could have just written a better textbook.  But I guess complaining is more fun, and I suspect writing what he would consider a "good" textbook would end up being even more cumbersome than the 1000 page tomes he says are terrible history text books.

I easily found my hotel in Northern Illinois.  A quick gas stop and some soda from Walmart and I called it a day.  The real adventure is almost about to begin.

2026 Lake Erie Fishing - S L O W

My last day off was in January.  Usually I'm ready to commit myself to an asylum by now, but I guess this year I've just been living the routine.  I don't think this is a step change, but possibly I'm focusing on future possibilities.  Eventualities.  The timing of this trip is poignant; it is mostly people who've retired from the same company I work for. They can be a bad influence on me.

Memory, as a mirror, is cloudy at best.  At worst it's a black Sharpie that scribbles on our reflection. - James Wade

It's equally likely that I've been overly focused on my recent oral surgery (and recovery), and that has created novelty, even if a distasteful flavor of it (no pun intended).  It hasn't been easy.  My timing of the surgery was such that I either do it "now, or wait a year ... I don't want to worry about this while on my fall adventures."  This was the right decision given how difficult recovery has been.  I've had my final follow-up just in time for Lake Erie fishing - which kicks off the start of these adventures.  Serendipity.  Hopefully I am ready.

Saturday passed with threats of heavy rain.  Somehow I got the lawn mowed with only one brief downpour.  S/O was nice enough to help with trim work which made a huge difference.  The world won't end of the lawn is too long, but getting this done was a mental burden relief.

I had enough time on Sunday for both a long dog walk and a nice bike ride.  I'm lucky to live in the rural area I call home.  After knocking out a few last chores, I headed out to Dave's house.

After talking a bit, Dave and I headed to Nick's house.  Nick isn't going fishing this year, but I guess his house still makes a decent gathering point.  But almost everyone was already grouping, so we picked up only Phil and Dan and headed north.

The drive up felt long.  We ran into the car with Mike, Jim and Lou at a rest stop before meeting up with everyone at the hotel.  Father Mike was still en route so there was some down time before heading for dinner.  I was tired but knew sleep wasn't going to be easy so I resisted the urge to lie down.

I struggled to know what to eat at Jolly Roger with my recent surgery.  I ended up with Shrimp 'n Chips.  It was, at best, OK...  The potatoes were oddly both undercooked and overcooked at the same time.  The breading was fat (which is good), but fell off of the shrimp loosely.  I'm pretty sure the last time I was actually inside a restaurant was on the previous year's trip - now I remember why I rarely eat out.

Back at the hotel, I turned in early even though it was light.

_________

I woke up at my usual time and messed around a bit on my phone.  A group was going to breakfast, but I stayed back and ate my packed fruit; I got the better end of that deal for sure.

I was in Steve's boat along with Dave, Dan, Mike and Jim.  The last time I had fished with "The Dude" (my nickname for him) Steve was 2018 I think?

I had a slight headache, but I was pretty sure it would subside once we started fishing (I was right).  We motored out and started where Ned and Steve had good luck the previous day.

In short, the fishing, all day, was S L O W.  Often painfully slow.  It was slower than One Fish Bay.

My first catch was a really healthily fat catfish - which was fun to bring in on light tackle!

Steve did a decent job of trying to get us on fish and he stayed in contact with Ned and a few other captains.  But the fish were just not there ... or were not biting (which is it?????).

I think my total for the day was three walleye (it might have been only two), two sheephead, one cat and 1 goby.  I have an odd sweet spot for goby.  I know they are invasive and are known for raiding the nests of other fish, but they are cute in their own way.

It was so slow that I was ready to be done about an hour before we quit.  Total count was less for both boats than what a limit would have been for either boat.  

But it was still a good time.  There wasn't too much shop talk which was nice.  Weather was objectively splendid with reasonable temperatures and low humidity.  But fishing may have been better if the wind was a bit more active.  Still, just being out on the water was a good break.

Then it was off to the fish-cleaning house and the lollygagging and waiting to hit the road.  Only Dave, Dan and myself were heading south; everyone else was staying another night.

The drive back towards home was a bit painful, but conversation was good.  After dropping Dan off at his house, Dave and I split up the rest of the fish at his house.

I got home right near dark.  S/O helped repackage fish.  It would have been nice to take the time to remove all the Y-bones before freezing, but I just didn't have it in me due to the late hour.

So not the best year of fishing ever.  I won't take the slow fishing  a premonition of what my year's future outdoor adventures will bring.

2026 Hog Hunt Day 6 & 7 - Letting Him Walk

Rick and I went out to feed on a very cold low-country South Carolina morning.  When we got to Fish Snatch, Rick looks at me and says, "Take a look.  Don't get lost."  I wasn't too happy that he wasn't going to help since I'm just colorblind enough that finding blood trails is a challenge, let alone dry blood trails.  I understood the pig is likely still running around, and even if not, the chance to find it is remote given the pig's reaction after the shot, but respect for the animal requires a good faith effort.

I spent a chunk of time looking for blood, then following what looked like a scurrying-type path and general small-grid searching.  I would have liked to have spent about 10 times the amount I did, but there were places where it was so thick that a hog could be 10 feet from me and I wouldn't see it; the unrealistic part of me was hoping it would be in one of the open areas.  After a while, I realized it was futile.  

I was surprised that there were a couple of dead hogs in the form of old scattered bones - I know locals often shoot and leave lie since they don't care about hogs (I strongly disagree with this), but there are other interpretations.  I grabbed an old lower jaw bone off the ground and told Rick that it was all that was left of my hog.

With a mix of new people coming in, I moved my stuff around once back in the lodge and had the usual down-time.  Then it was time to head out for the last night of hunting.

I was dropped off on the Zombie Hog Stand.  It was another gorgeous blue-bird day - cool with a biting breeze; I  was dressed well for it.

As I sat down and got situated, I began to have a confidence crisis due to my miss the previous evening.  Part of me was almost hoping not to see anything.  I tend to overthink everything; I swear my brain needs a good therapist more than anything.  I have definitely been overthinking my shooting recently.  And while I had shot hogs at this stand more than once, the distance felt oddly long.

For most of the afternoon, absolutely nothing was moving.  It was a nice afternoon and I was just enjoying the afternoon.

As it started to get dark, movement on the left turned into a boar walking out to the corn.  What to do???  With my setup, I was rock-solid and I did have enough light.  But shooting while a bit unsure of myself???  I put the cross hairs on the pig's head, then backed off, on, off, on, off.

I was not in the right frame of mind.  At some point indecision becomes a decision.  I settled for a picture.

(and yes, I realize this isn't a clean head shot, but gimme a break - lining up the rifle and camera while not dropping either is a bit challenging)

Ethically this felt like 100% the right thing to do; I was at peace with this as darkness claimed the situation.

I was going home with a good chunk of hog meat (room in the freezer at home remains a question).

Some deer came in a chased off the hog which ended my 2026 hunt.  Back in the truck, Claude hadn't seen any pigs.  Denis had seen a bunch, but was holding out for a big boar.

Back in the lodge, Rich and Rich were in camp from Ohio.  They seemed pretty nice, but I only had a chance to talk to them for a short time before Rick and I went to Denis' house for dinner.  It was fun having all of us there to BS and talk about the week (and just about everything else in life).  Denis got a bit distracted and the ribeyes were, ummm, extra, extra well-done.  We all made the best of it.

As I was getting ready to go to sleep, I remembered Rick had not cut my shirt tail.  This may come back to bite me at some point in the future.  Karma is a bitch.

_____________________

I was awake early and ready to be home.  A quick shower and I was out the door.  One of the Rich's was sleeping on the couch so I tried to be extra quiet as I scooted out.

The interior of the Maverick had the lingering smell of smoke from my hunting clothes.  And it wasn't a good smoke smell - a serious cleaning and deodorizing was going to be needed for my camo.

I was glad to be on the road.  I had the roads to myself for several hours.  Bridges and roads appeared to have been pretreated for snow even if the forecast had changed to make freezing precipitation unlikely.

I was listening to River Man by Ben McGrath for most of the ride home.  It was an OK book, but definitely not as good as the review I had previously read about it.  I didn't find Dick Conant (who it is about) as even remotely compelling.  And while McGrath is a good writer, the tone of the book was like that of someone who had worked in New York for far too long and had only recently discovered that there exists people, places and things in flyover country.  As a journalist, McGrath didn't call out as even potential-BS some of what was shared in the book.  I can't believe he hasn't talked to enough people to see this?  I've certainly met my share of characters on some of my epic road trips enough to nod my head at the main-character syndrome half-truths (or sometimes less than half).  The book may factually represent what McGrath saw and heard, but should have been a bit more careful in bleeding reality out of it.

As the book ended, I did reflect a bit more on Dick Conant.  Society is very quick to celebrate eccentric people who throw off the shackles of work-a-day life and travel the world in a canoe.  But we don't often acknowledge that the higher likelihood is eventual tragedy like what almost certainly happened to Conant.

He had saved [100,000 straightened] nails and wasted life. - Donald Hall

And yet (there is always an "and yet"), whether we are talking about Dick Conant, Hall's Washington Woodward, myself, or Ben McGrath, I'm not sure it is fair to call a life wasted if it is/was lived deliberately.

I continued motoring on.  The Saturday traffic was highly tolerable all day.  I was home before 2:00.

S/O and I took care of the pigs shortly after I got home.  Loins were packaged for the grill, all eight quarters will be dynamite on the smoker, and there was enough good trimmings for eight burgers.

Until next year, I'll have some reflection to do after this year's hunt.  Two pigs with one shot.  A miss.  Maybe the first time I've let a pig walk...