Three Svens

It was time for the annual pilgrimage to NorthWestern Wisconsin last weekend. The Three Svens were reunited and several other Svens drove up to lovely Lake Namakagon for the long weekend.

Those that came up on Thursday night missed the best bite of the weekend in the channel to Jackson Lake - not evidenced by Sven Jay's giant.



We did actually catch some nice pike. Nothing huge, but it was fun.




They also missed out on Sven John's pasta night - no special sauce required. The weather cooperated and we had a campfire while we waited for the straggler Svens to arrive.



Friday dawned bright and we headed out to all the shallow warm bays we could find. No fish...
It was so bad that to keep from getting skunked two of the Svens headed back to Jackson to catch anything with fins before the Dry rub pork needed to get thrown on the grill.



Sunburn? Check.
Windburn? Check.
Bearburn? Almost. A momma black bear and her 2 cubs were dumpster-diving at the Echo Point Lodge. All of the Svens that were off the lake ran over to watch the show.




Earlier in the afternoon I had asked of there was a dump around. When I was a kid we went to the Gunflint every fall. We used to drive to the dump in the evening to watch the bears dig through the day's garbage. A good time was had by all.
Fishburn? Nope, but there's always tomorrow...

Even the beloved rock pile of 46" Musky fame wasn't producing like we expected it to.

Saturday was a day of transition weather-wise. It started windy and partly cloudy. Then the wind changed direction and the clouds blew in. Then rain. Then more wind. Then it cleared out and was sunny. It was tough fishing. OK not that tough...



We tried most everything but to no avail. We had enough pike and bluegills for breakfast, so we were fishing for pride and fun at this point.

All the Svens trudged next door to the Echo Point Lodge for our annual steak night.

Now, I grew up fishing in the boonies. Running water and indoor bathrooms were foreign to me on fishing trips. If we wanted to go out to eat it was a 40 mile trip one way on a logging road. It didn't happen. So, gathering at the Echo Point for a grill your own slab-o-beef is something I can take or leave.

The first year we were catching so many fish, we didn't want to go at all. The Svens in the SS Mouse showed up an hour late and mostly frozen and were happy to stand near the hot grill.

Last year we moved the dinner up and found out that they don't light the grills until someone shows up to eat. Unfortunately, the first people don't get the best coals. A little hot for proper grilling. This year we gave them a half an hour, but nobody else showed up, so they lit them when we walked in.



That was it for me. I'm goin' fishing. Sven Jay came with me and we tried several more spots with no luck. When we got back the fires were roaring and the boys were playing cards. We watched Strange Brew - LSJ wasn't there to bring inane movies - (Dude where's my car? You've got to be kidding me!), so we went with a classic.



Sunday morning we had a fish fry and leftover french toast and packed up to go. As we pulled the boats up to the boat launch Sven Jay looked down in the water and said "Musky!" There it was, slowly swimming off into the abyss. Sure, Sunday the weather cooperates. There's always next year...