There are in this boreal forest folks who like lodges and those that don’t.
Pardon me, but I’m so a lodge fellow.
And like many things, not all lodges are quite the same, and oh my goodness, the enjoyment one can have.
I can pull up at one, step out of the truck, it’s game on. You better have your rear and gear in order because rain or shine, mayflies, gnats, horseflies, deer flies, or any other winged warriors make no matter; it’s all fishing business, you’re going, and the you is me, and me is all in.
Another, soft blonde pine logs, each deck, laid out against an eventual sunset, curtains so gently tied back when you walk in to the cabin.
No hurry no worries, tomorrow will be here soon enough, there’s a hand written note on the table of welcome.
And by the way, tonight, in the main building, we’re serving grilled corn, fresh tossed salads and a taco bar, and if you like, let us know after dinner, and we will make sure all the minnows you need will be air packed at your door in the morning, I love the place.
It’s so laid back. Before you go to bed, there’s a huge campfire for any and all, to sit and visit, a super cold watermelon smorgasbord, like a perfect dessert after a wonderful day. You or maybe just I, don’t even really care about the fishing.
And of course my favorite, gotta go in June, not any other month it’s June or nothing. Fresh rhubarb crisp, one crappie fry after another. The pillows on the bed, must have once been clouds in heaven now retired, ease an old man’s neck, oh they’re so soft, and after a day of boat back in a walleye chop, scalding hot showerers, and endless supply of cold beverages. And hosts, you truly wish were family, heck they’re better than family, they smile when you arrive and hug ya when ya leave, which you never want to, because you’re at a lodge, that just spoiled you out of your mind, well at least mine. .
--The trout whisperer
