This is the kind of fishing that doesn't get you a corporate endorsement. There are no sponsors, and certainly no TV crews! It's not glamorous and it's not fashionable! The beauty though is raw and powerful.
Something pretty can in a moment turn ugly and deadly. One wrong decision doesn't mean a lost fish, it means a lost limb, or worse, a lost life.
Usually a day's fishing in the bush starts early, as the sun rises. Usually you're on the road by the dawn's early light. Usually the coffee and bacon sandwiches are consumed as the truck's headlights still light the way. This day was different. I had two hours of home time before leaving. And I hadn't risen until eight in the morning. Dogs were walked, news was watched and breakfast was leisurely. Were I in the city on this schedule, I could have attended church service before hitting the lake!
We drove for about fifty clicks. Beyond fifty clicks is the ice road. And in a month's time you can't go any further. Ice roads melt. After that, another three on the SkiDoo. This brought us to a stand of conifers that sloped down to a spruce swamp and eventually the lake to be fished.
I spent well over an hour snowshoeing through that stretch of bush. Taking a bearing, picking a tree and winding my way. As the crow flies, less than one kilometer was travelled. Travis and Brad following my trail, cutting a path that the SkiDoo could travel to the lake.
I fell once. The snow, even with my snowshoes on, came to my waist. It took me ten minutes to get back on my feet! Once, and fortunately so, one snowshoe released itself from my left boot. Strapping on a snowshoe with heavy gloves on is next to impossible. But removing one's gloves when it's twenty below is not comfortable!
Eventually I broke free of the forest's grip and walked out onto our lake of choice! But it was more than an hour later before I heard the whine of a chainsaw and struggling motor of the SkiDoo. 
Again, any thought of corporate endorsements faded. Dreams of professional sponsorships were swept away by a wind that carried dry, stinging snow that easily could have been blown off Hudson Bay. Everything about this adventure became rudimentary. Depths were measured by arm lengths of fishing line. Strike indicators were branches cut from scrub on the frozen shoreline, our time of patience was used up building a "White Man's" fire.
We set lines, simple lines. Two or three split shot, a #2 hook and a minnow. There were no rods and reels; no fancy reflective glowing jig heads; just hooks and minnows. Minnows trapped in near by lakes.
So we set our lines. We stoked our monstrous fire and we waited.
After about an hour and a half of fire building, a little food and something to drink, we checked our lines. And sure enough, one branch was down! And a fish was on!
We re-set the line. Moved the deeper set-ups to shallower water and returned to our fire.
There were two more fish to follow. We didn't fill our limits, we didn't even catch fish we were targeting! This outing was in search of walleye. Truth be told though, these were my first Lakers and I was more than pleased with the catch!
Soon after eight the sun had set. Our day on the ice was coming to an end. Now the trek home was to begin.
The journey back through the swamp and conifer stand was trying and exhausting! There were two slopes that were just shy of verticals. Maybe ten meter stretches that took twenty minutes each to traverse. But the snow glowed beneath the light of thousands of stars! The forest gave us shelter from the wind, and our struggles to move the SkiDoo and sled through the swamp warmed me almost as much as our fire had.
Finally we arrived at the truck. We loaded the machine on the trailer, the sled in the bed of the truck and ourselves in the cab. Soon we would be warm in our own homes.
I've fished with guys that refuse to use live baits. I've even fished with some that will change the lure in a fish's mouth just for a photo that promotes a tackle manufacturer. I'm not adverse to fancy tackle, I have my share. I'm not adverse to a day on a well equipped boat. I'm certainly not adverse to comfortable digs within a quick boat ride or short walk from my fishing hole! But an adventure such as this is something every angler should experience!
Were I have been told how difficult this day was going to be, maybe I wouldn't have gone. I'm glad I wasn't told! I've never worked so hard for one fish though, ever!
And by the way, I'm still looking for endorsements!
