My plan was to write a journal entry every night of my Lake of the Woods fishing trip. I even packed a small battery-operated lantern, so I wouldn’t have to use a headlamp after I crawled into my tent. In six days, I wrote in my journal only once.

I wish I could say that I did not write because I was too exhausted to think straight after full days of fishing and exploring, but the real reason was that I was just too cold. Once I stripped off four layers of clothing and put on a dry set of long underwear, I just wanted to curl up in my sleeping bag and get warm for the first time all day. We’ve had cold weather on previous mid-May trips to Ontario, but this year might have been the first when it’s been cold for the entire week. It snowed a few times while we were fishing, and there was frost on our tents each morning. For the first time ever, some of us cut short our afternoon outings on the water just to return to camp and build a campfire. Most years we saved campfires for evening relaxation before and after dinner. This year there was a fire going just about any time we were in camp.

There are, however, benefits to cold weather. The fish are just coming out of their winter lethargy, often feeding in the slightly warmer water of the shallows. We always go to Ontario for opening day of walleye season, and as usual, we all caught our share of walleyes. Different than other years was the number of large northerns, muskies, and lake trout brought to side of our boats. I think all eight of the people on the trip caught at least one fish that will qualify as a lasting memory. The lake trout, which often are in deeper water when we arrive mid-May, were still in 15-20 feet of water, and I don’t think that a day went by when someone did not catch a muskie. Ben, a son of one of our regulars, came with us for the first time, and he may have had the best week of fishing in his life.

The best part of the cold weather is that it keeps other fishermen away. Our campsite is an hour-and-a-half boat ride away from a large cabin/resort area. I’ve never seen anyone else camping in the backcountry, but usually a couple dozen fishing boats motor in for the day. This year I don’t think that we saw more than six boats all week, and even those boats relegated themselves to a few known hotspots. Without much effort, we never got within a quarter mile of other human beings and surrounded ourselves with pelicans, gulls, beavers, and mink. We saw bears every day, all sows with cubs, but not a single bear ventured into camp.

I am writing this blog entry from the front porch of my house in a teeshirt and shorts. Hard to believe that a week ago my hands were too numb to comfortably hold a pen.

If you are reading this blog not long after I posted it, I am currently in Ontario for my annual backcountry fishing trip. When I return home, I’ll probably write about some of the highlights of the trip, but for now I am checking out my fishing gear and loading up my backpack.

Several of my fishing buddies on the trip (we are now up to eight people – six old guys and two sons of old guys) enjoy the preparation almost as much as the trip itself. For a month before we head to Canada, they are emailing back and forth about changes to the menu, innovations in group gear, and recent videos about catching walleye. I, on the other hand, wish that I could just snap my fingers and be at our backcountry campsite with a fishing pole in hand. I have a tinge of guilt for not doing my share of the prep work, but I am also happy to benefit from the extra effort these guys put in.

I do not know whether my aversion to planning is a personal quirk or a result of organizing too many trips when I was teaching outdoor recreation to college students. Even though I am now retired, planning trips for myself still feels like a busman’s holiday.

Just as well. My friends do a more complete job of preparing than I ever would. We eat better, we sit around the campfire more comfortably, and we know more fishing techniques than if I had a hand in the planning. I am happy to work my butt off in camp (e.g., set up the campsite, gather firewood, fillet fish, fetch water, wash dishes), but I am a bit of a freeloader right up until the moment our boats pull up to our campsite.

When I think about some of my best trips as a young man, they are the ones when I just grabbed my backpack, tossed in some food, and took off. Trips to Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, and Isle Royale come to mind. Today none of those trips would even be possible without considerable planning, as backpackers now need to apply for backcountry permits up to a year in advance. For the Yosemites of the world, spontaneity is no longer an option.

In terms of preparation for our Canada trip, I do meet with one of the guys a few days before the trip to repackage the food. He will have already purchased all of the ingredients, and we then bag them up according to each meal. Usually he has the job half done before I arrive, and we spend most of the time discussing our favorite Lake of the Woods fishing holes.