If you drove down the street that day you would’ve looked in bewilderment at me on the sideway making cast after cast down the street with one of my three new baitcasters. You would have had to laugh at the care and time spent making sure every adjustment was accurate and all the line was spooled perfectly. I know you would have laughed because all the neighbors did. All except one, who seemed quite agitated at the thought of someone in our working class neighborhood being able to afford a trip to Canada for a week of fishing.
“Catching anything?” was his opener to the conversation. Not wanting to spoil an otherwise perfect day I elected to avoid a sarcastic reply and simply answer. As we conversed, he asked more about the trip on which I would soon embark with some dear friends. The more we talked the more he became upset that I could leave my children and do something as expensive as go to Canada. Without diving into detail, I stated the trip wasn’t that expensive and made a quick exit. I simply chalked this encounter up as yet another in an endless series of events where an emotionally unstable person finds, and latches on to me. I’m charmed that way.
First, I need to introduce some of the other cast members, beginning with Scott. We met in college and immediately started talking. We’ve been friends ever since, which is no surprise given our shared tendency to drive our wives nuts, a similar passion for getting up at 3am and freezing our assess off in the river, a bad habit of spending a LOT of money on hunting and fishing gear, and what would have to be a similar diagnosis for ADD. Scott’s brother, Eric, and dad, Randy, have similar characteristics which insured this trip would be nothing short of a good time.
The trip itself took about nine months to plan. We talked about it constantly and after all that time managed to have everything set. We couldn’t wait for the day in mid-August when we would finally depart for our long awaited adventure. Every time we got together there, someone had something new he bought for the trip. By the time August came when we were to leave, you could almost cut the excitement with one of our new filet knives. By the time we left, we had enough gear to make any tournament fisherman green with envy. We had enough food to eat like kings, and I brought enough beer so as to barely be allowed to cross the border with it all. I’m a firm believer that getting there is half the fun. With the cars packed, we were off to the Laurentian View Resort, on the beautiful Ottawa River.
So here are some pointers I had mentioned. First, before I go any further, the trip was spectacular in every way. Everything went as planned and we made some memories we can take with us to the old-folks home. Oh yes, did I mention I almost didn’t get my passport in time because I forgot to get that taken care of until the last minute? There was lesson one for me. I spent so much time thinking about the trip that I overlooked some small, yet crucial points. You can easily plan too carefully and the paperwork is among the easiest thing to overlook or underestimate. As a first time traveler I caution against this. Getting too deep into your planning is a great way to forget your underwear or make some other kind of amateur mistake that will cause difficulty on your trip. It’s the classical case of a double-edged sword. Getting too deep will cause as many problems as not getting deep enough. It’s your vacation, so you don’t want to be stressed out.
My second tip is always listen to your bitch. We left Randy’s house at midnight with intentions to make the eight hour drive, with a breakfast stop, so we could be fishing by 10am, respectively. Scott and I were leading the way in his truck, following the direction of his trusty GPS which we affectionately dubbed “the bitch.” The GPS earned this name after it seemed to have an annoyed tone when we made a pit stop for gas rather than listen to “her” directions. “You bitch” was our simultaneous expression and I marveled at the notion I had lived long enough to see a day when a computer will actually seem to be annoyed by a person.
Like all men, when the bitch told us to go straight we opted to turn right, not feeling she was giving us the best directions. Hells bells a man should always listen to the female voice of reason. Our 10am fishing time turned in to more like 4pm because we didn’t listen to our bitch. On the flip side of that, we did get to see some exquisitely beautiful countryside as we righted our course. So, despite not listening to the bitch, we managed to gain some positive from a near mishap. The moral of the story is to have your travel plan set. There’s always a little room to be spontaneous, but you always want to make sure your first priority is to get there.
Arriving at the resort, we were greeted by a friendly staff and friendly vacationers. We did not realize exactly how friendly until our fellow campers saw us the next morning. We weren’t overly interested in socializing. We came to fish, dammit. Without preamble or ceremony, we strung our rods, tied on lures, and headed out. We only had a few hours until sunset and we at least wanted to do some reconnaissance so we could make plans for our first full day on the water. Now is when I should mention that we were so excited to get this show on the road we left home a day early. The owner of the resort allowed for us to camp in the trucks for a night if we wanted to show up a day early. This seemed like a good idea, and essentially, it was. However, it leads me to my next point. When you’re vacationing with friends, or family for that matter, you need to be prepared to drive each other crazy.
Scott and I had survived collage and done a fair amount of training together in our professional lives, even though we didn’t work for the same agency. Scott was, after all, the one who showed me how to be accurate with a handgun. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared either of us for a night spent sleeping upright in the front seat of Scott’s truck taking turns snoring each other awake. All night long we conducted a nocturnal symphony that had everyone within earshot wondering. At some point in the small hours of the morning, I had given up on the truck and elected to sleep on a lawn chair under the stars. It was here I came to know the true horror of being eaten alive by mosquitos.
With the breaking of dawn we were greeted by our neighbors, who welcomed me to at least sleep in the bed of his pickup truck should I need to. It was then we realized we were in a different world, and surrounded by good people. I mention this because as a first-time traveler, operating on a tight budget, you will find the typical pompous ass who still thinks he’s more important than everyone else. Fortunately, we didn’t have this on our trip, though I have seen it on several adventures since. We mingled with the natives, and ultimately got along well with everyone for the entire trip.
Now it was go-time. The cabin we were assigned was available and we quickly set up camp, to get on the water as soon as humanly possible. That sounds so patient but the gruesome reality was if we could have built a time machine to make it happen quicker we probably would have. God knows Scott and I have collaborated on some crazier ideas. It didn’t take me long to make a discovery that I will pass along as my third tip. Which is you need to get out of your comfort zone.
I am a Pennsylvania mountain boy. My grandfather could pull a musky out of a mud puddle and my father could do the same with walleye. We lived on our local Susquehanna River. It was leagues different from the pristine waters of the Ottawa River. Further, it was a hell of a lot wider and deeper. Scott had fished this area before and did a fabulous job of not letting me look like an idiot, but I still needed to change my way of thinking and fishing. In retrospect, it is amazing how we fall into our comfort zone and don’t even realize it. We’re masters of our environment when we live in a place and completely awkward when we leave that bubble.
At the end of the day, you’ll find that fishing is fishing. It’s the notion of being in a different temperate zone, with a lot deeper water, and an entire group of new species in the area you are fishing. We were all thrilled when Randy caught a four foot sturgeon, and I sounded like a little school girl when I had a spotted gar come out of the weeds after one of my spinners. To people who have this stuff locally it may not be a big deal. However, we, the crazy Americans, were having a blast with the fish we were getting.
Essentially, be prepared for the same species of prey to act completely different when you go to another area. Being raised in Pennsylvania, traveling to Canada and other areas, and now living in the south I can guarantee you animals act different. What is considered a nice day to most people in my native land is freezing to the folks here, just like I want to hide away during August while everyone around me is loving that hot Georgia sun. The fish and animals act the same way. It can be daunting to adjust, especially if you’re on a budget and don’t have a guide.
Now, we need to face one harsh reality. Money doesn’t go around like it used to. But that was okay. We did our trip on a budget and made out better than we would’ve if we had a cook preparing our meals. Another tip for traveling on a budget is to husband your resources. You need to apply the rule of the three “R”s, which are research, research, and research. We were able to have an extra day on our adventure because we planned well. We had a menu, and gear to prepare our own meals, and we ate like kings. We had our own tobacco, beer, tackle, toiletries, gas, and tools. It all came down to research. We knew what tackle we’d need to fish the area, how much food we needed for four men, how much gas was needed, everything. We did our homework and had all the logistics set.
You never know what prices will be locally unless you research. Where we went in Canada beer and tobacco was nearly twice as expensive. Gas was more expensive so we managed to save a little change by having the tanks on the boats filled when we arrived. Then being in a position of not needing anything else insured we didn’t lose any time or money making the twenty mile drive to town. If you’re going to book a budget adventure you shouldn’t be afraid to call the proprietor of your destination and grill them about such things. If they are too busy, not willing to give a solid answer, or too mean to answer you then odds are you’re going to the wrong destination. Again, there’s no way I can overstate how hospitable our host was.
So, our time on the Ottawa River wore on. As the week progressed, we were more and more careful not to mention packing up and going home. Except for Randy, that is. He missed his dog. The fishing was great, the food was superb, the company was tight, and everything around us was pristine and well kept. We really couldn’t have asked for anything more. This leads me to my fourth and final tip. Enjoy yourself, dammit.
A thousand blogs and articles out there will tell you all about traveling. Likewise, there are just as many giving you information on types and colors of lures, how to play the tide, best times of day to hunt or fish, where to find the best strip clubs, how to enjoy local dining, and on, and on, and on. Yet in all my reading and research preparing for a trip I have never seen anyone simply tell the reader to enjoy their trip. Enjoy the scenery, throw caution to the wind and eat something you normally wouldn’t, stay up late, get up early. For all the planning you will do you again need to be able and ready to step outside that comfort one and enjoy yourself.
Didn’t bring the right color lure? Improvise, the fish will hit on something. Forgot your underwear? Go commando, nobody will notice under normal circumstances. Lost your driver license? No big deal, they probably won’t want to keep you wherever you are. Didn’t bring a cell phone charger? It’s okay, you probably didn’t need to talk to whoever is trying to get you anyway. There’s literally a hundred things that can go wrong with a trip. But you’ll never be set up for a bad time if you have the right attitude going in to the journey. Remember, life is all about the journey. Just remember to pack some extra toilet paper.
Finally, enjoy your company. I have seen trips where one of the group was so stingy and miserable he hoarded his own private stock of toilet paper that he was absolutely unwilling to share. While this gentleman was generally ignored, he did have a few moments where he brought down members of the camp. Nobody wants to deal with someone like that. The trip to Ottawa I have spoken of found me among the very finest of people. I would pass along a reminder to everyone that whether you’re traveling with friends or family you need to be grateful to these people and cherish the memories you would all build together. As a traveler and adventurer, you will find your budget is not as important so long as you are in the best of company.
In the end, we are humans. We have grocery stores, restaurants, convenience stores, and our mother-in-law’s spaghetti during the worst of times. We don’t need to hunt and fish. We’re not going to starve if we don’t take to the great outdoors and return with mother nature’s bounty. That being said, we are humans. We are pack animals by nature and need comminatory. Just like we need golf, baseball, football, bar-hopping, back yard grilling, and dining out, we need to hunt. For some, the calling to the outdoors with their friends and family is what builds bonds that are stronger than anything found in society. If you’re going to work all year to save for a trip afield then make sure you travel with the very best of company.
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