Running with the Devil
On a warm day in September 2018 myself and a buddy set out on an adventure. We trailered our ATV's as far as we could until the road we were traveling deteriorated so badly that the trucks were parked, the ATV's were unloaded and packed and the ride began. Almost 50 kilometres up a continually less travelable road that no others like-minded souls seemed to be using. The last couple of kilometres were nothing less than a challenge. With all of our weekend supplies less than strategically strapped onto our bikes and with one bike shouldering our canoe and paddles and fishing equipment, we blazed a trail into my friends simple, remote back country camp. Our journey took up the better part of an entire day and we arrived in the late afternoon and set to work doing chores around the camp to prepare for the weekend. Chopping wood, hauling water from the lake to the camp, refueling lanterns, a general camp cleaning and we were soon out of daylight. This was followed by a nightcap or two and then a terrific snoring competition in the single roomed camp. As the sun rose, so did we and the next part of the adventure followed. A paddle across a pristine Northern Ontario lake, a rough portage through a virtual moose pasture, another paddle across a lily pad engorged lake, another portage up one hill and down the other side, and at last we had reached our destination of a remote speckled trout lake. And yes, the fishing was spectacular. And yes, the return trip was a challenge as well. Tired, thirsty and satisfied we finally arrived back to the beach at the camp. With a pot of rice on the little woodstove and with fresh specks in the frying pan, it was down to the shore to enjoy a couple of cold beers and a rare, warm, late September evening at a roaring beach fire. My buddy, a high tech redneck, even provided some music for our setting. And then I joined Van Halen, singing "Running with the Devil", glanced further to my left and everything just fell into place.