Chippewa National Forest covers over 600,000 acres of land and water. The United States has 154 National Forests covering 188,336,179 acres of our country. If anything makes America a great country, it is this.
It’s a bit of a haul to get up north. I live in Minneapolis and the campground was four hours away. Well, it was supposed to be anyhow. Readers who are not from Minnesota need to understand there is this Great Human Migration that happens here on weekends in the summer, and especially on holidays. It is called “Goin’ up North”. Goin’ up North means that every single Minnesotan from the southern and central parts of the state are literally going up north, all at the same time on a Friday. Four hours? HAH!
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(this is an internet stock photo-I did not take this pic, but this is what the GHM looks like) |
I think I would’ve really enjoyed the drive if I hadn’t been
staring at the ass of a giant boat for two hours…
So. Stupid me should’ve
left at three in the morning, and I did not.
Five and a half hours (or was it six?) later I finally
pulled into the campground. After a long, beautiful winding dirt road drive
into Chippewa Forest I finally came up on the campsite. The old pines towered and the emerald maples
glittered in the setting sun. I set up
my tent (my brand new one!), and I set up my
sleeping bag (also new!). I set my can of sour cream
and onion Pringles next to my pillow for later, and I was ready to start the
party.
Little did I know the party was going to be: fishing on a
boat at night. As soon as I was set up
Maddy asks, “You ready to go?” And I
said, “Uh, go where?” She replied, “We’re
going out on the boat. We’re fishing
tonight.”
I had no idea that was the plan! How exciting! How do you fish at night, I wondered? And was I going to freeze my ass off? The answer to the latter is yes. Yes, I was going to freeze my ass off.
I wasn’t completely stupid, I DID pack warm clothes. I know how cold it gets at night when you go
camping in a northern state. I even had
two jackets in my car too. But did I
bring one of those jackets on the boat?
No. Why? Because I was stupid. I thought my sweatshirt layer would be
enough.
Anyway.
Now if you’ve read all of my previous posts you’ll remember,
Reader that one of my fishing goals is to catch a walleye. I’ve caught my Northern, but I’ve never been
walleye fishing before so I have had no idea how to go about it.
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This is my 18" Northern...before I knew how to hold bigger fish properly... |
Dan (senior), Wendy, Maddy, Dan (jr) and the
whole gang promised me I would for sure catch my first walleye on this camping
trip. I was super stoked.
So Maddy and I were appointed to Justin’s boat as the rest
of the crew was already out on the lake in their boats. I should explain this, and name names, so you
all know what the hell is going on and can picture this properly: ah hem. So
there were three boats. 1) Dan (everyone
affectionately calls him Senior) and Wendy’s boat. 2) Brandon’s boat accompanied by Brandon
himself, Dan (jr) and Josh. 3) Justin’s
boat: Justin, Maddy and me. So. Now that
you have that in order…
Justin, the captain of our ship, took us out onto Lake
Winnie (Winniebigoshish) to a low depth sweet spot where the rest of the crew
was fishing.
So how do you fish at night?
With bobbers that light up. It
was one of the prettiest sites I’ve ever seen.
The sun set in fiery golden hues and the water darkened except for the
bobbing glowing lanterns on the waves. It
was magical for me.
Very much regret not getting a picture of glowing bobbers...You'll just have to use your imagination... |
I quite unfortunately did not catch my first walleye that
night, but I had a wonderful time none the less of course. The night got cold. Wendy very kindly gave me a jacket from her
boat which saved me from chatting my teeth right out of my skull. We packed up
the gear and headed back to shore.
This I will say (admit rather) that I never really realized
how much responsibility there is in being a captain of a boat.
First, you can’t drink. You’re sober cabbing it the whole time. And while the rest of your crew is sipping
whisky and balling it like rock stars, that’s got to be a little hard not to
join in…
Second, you obviously have to know HOW to drive the damn thing. Hence having a license.
Besides
just steering it and controlling the speed you need to know other things
too. You need to know how to use a depth
finder, how to drift in windy conditions, navigate it across a plain of water
where there are obviously no roads... ‘Drive it
back to shore in the dark without getting lost for example.
Or, how to bail out water in case it capsizes is another good one. (Ah
hem…)
There’s a lot to boats that I did not know, and this trip
taught me a lot. And I have a whole new respect
for boat owners. I did not grow up with
boats. My dad would rent a motorized row
boat on our vacations, and there was the one summer we borrowed a fishing boat
from a family friend. But that was
it.
So, Justin drove us back to shore in the dark and we headed
back to a nice warm campfire. I was
hungry so I had some of Wendy’s leftover kabobs. They were fantastic and tasted like
home. Back in New York we have our own
sort of “kabobs” called “spiedies” (pronounced “spee-dees). Spiedies are hunks of beef, chicken, sausage or lamb
marinated in a spiedie sauce
for twenty four hours or longer, speared on
kabob sticks and barbequed with sweet peppers and onions.

You can eat it like a kabob or put the meat
and veggies on a long roll for a sandwich. Add some melted provolone and you've entered sandwich heaven.
The spiedie sandwich is a staple at the New
York State Fair and the smell of marinated meat and pepper and onions takes me
back there every time I smell it cooking. Or this time, taste it.
I don’t remember staying up that late Friday night. I had a few drinks by the fire and that’s….honestly
all I remember. I know I slept well
though. My new sleeping bag and new tent
were quite cozy and perfect.
I woke to the early sounds of forest life....
You would think this is a nice thing, but
truth be told I’m quite irritable when awoken by angry birds and even angrier squirrels. Whatever the hell they’re all fighting over
between 5am and 7am is a mystery to me, but it is sometimes so annoying that it’ll
put me into a right rage. The worst is
that one asshole in the tree branch right above your tent that repeats the same
exact single note every two seconds for thirty minutes straight. “RAWK” two
seconds later: “RAWK” two seconds later: “RAWK”. And then there will be a five second delay
and you think he finally shut the hell up and you start to relax and doze off
again, and then: “RAWK”. It’s
maddening. They eventually calm down and
the sounds become more peaceful, and sometimes I manage to fall back to a sort
of sleep. So. I don’t get much sleep camping… As much as I
love it, this is the only thing I have to whine about it. Maybe it’s because of
my sensory sensitivity, I have no idea.
I have no idea if anybody else hates the squawking assholes in the
morning or not, but darn it all I do.
So Saturday was a big day.
I have a lot to share, and a million pictures to go with my
stories. So stay tuned for part 3!
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