We got on the road within a half hour of getting up on Saturday, but even so we arrived at our outfitter, Kashabowie Outposts, at 7:25 am, almost a half-hour late. We did the paper work, got our fishing licenses, paid the bills and then helped to load the small float plane, which was an old De Havilland 4-seater. (Did I say "old"? Perhaps "ancient" would be more apt.) But it seemed sturdy enough, and Mike, the cheerful cherub-faced pilot, controlled the plane with a steady hand. Now a ripe old 25, Mike has been flying, he told us, since he was 16 years of age.

I took the front seat next to Mike, and Bruce, Dick and Ross climbed in the second row, and we were off! Small planes are such a delight; since the noise makes it impossible to talk, I savored my own private thoughts as the landscape of lakes, rivers and trees -- endless trees, pines and birch -- slid beneath our view. It was amazing, but I saw absolutely no one on any of those many, many lakes! Where was everybody? I wondered...

Within 20 minutes or so, we landed on our lake, Bemar, and pulled up to the dock where we unloaded our stuff, trading places with the departing group of men. Here we are having just arrived(from the left: Ross, Dick, me and Bruce).

The cabin was tidy and clean, and we set about depositing our gear in our rooms. By 11 am we were fishing, and as luck would have it, I caught two lovely walleyes within an hour or so. (God is good to beginning fisherpersons!)

The rhythm of our days was something like this: up at 8:30 a.m. or so, Bruce would cook a great breakfast, the others of us would wash dishes, and then amble out to the deck to sit a while. Before too long, we'd assemble our gear and head out. We'd fish till about 2 p.m., come back to the cabin for our main meal (walleye or bass with rice pilaf or potatoes, veggies, salad, whatever Bruce had planned in the menu) . Then it might be nap time or reading time, and by 4 or 5 p.m. or so it was back out -- fishing until it was nearly dark at 9 p.m.

Then in the evening we'd have sandwiches with cold cuts and cheese, cookies, nuts, gorp, or whatever other goodies were available. By 10 p.m. or so, we'd find ourselves on the deck, looking at stars and passing satellites, sipping scotch or bourbon or whatever. What a great life!