Growing up in Chicago, one of many summer pastimes was to go fishing in Canada. We made Red Lake, Ontario our preferred destination and stayed at the Black Bear Lodge which was aptly named. Our fathers would take several dozen of us in vans on the 17-hour ride.
We eventually organized a “fishing club” where I held my first political offices — as self-elected president, treasurer & secretary. We even had T-shirts made at one point by some guy on the West side of Chicago where you didn’t go past sundown. This was done to save money.
Once in the safe haven of Red Lake, Ontario we would stock up on night crawlers and even beer and spirits courtesy of our fathers for the 10-day “outdoor” experience complete with shore lunches, large floating lures in search of monster northern pike, deep trolling equipment for lake trout off the back of 18 foot aluminum boats with 10 HP Johnsons which could throttle low enough to back troll for walleye, the prehistoric looking, best tasting shore lunch species G-D created I think especially for this.
But — before we even crossed over at International Falls, MN we would stop for the night in Orr, Minnesota. My father worked out a deal to stay at the local church there in exchange for a small donation to the church. It was either that or the lone car dealership and that floor was not for sale.
Despite lunker pike, walleye & lake trout in Canada, often times the highlight of these trips was fishing from the dock in Orr, Minnesota which when I was younger I thought was actually named for Bobby Orr or visa-versa, but the fishing was always good, poker in the church was always profitable and sleeping bags in the basement of the old church never got old.
This is what I remember about Fishing in Canada most.
