I posted a while back about the summer fishing/camping trip to the “secret” middle-of-the-wilderness lake my buddy “Scott” (we’ll call him) and I took each year — along with anyone we could talk into joining us. It was our annual pilgrimage for almost two decades.
Three times during that era we vacationed somewhere else: a cabin on Lake Kabetogama (where I caught zero fish); a houseboat on Lake Vermilion (loved sleeping on the water); and that time on the Churchill River in northern Saskatchewan.
We were so far north we were under the Northern Lights.
Logos con carne 