For a guide, isolation is part of the north-
country mix. And it’s not always easy to
deal with. A thunderstorm can take out
Wi-fi in one clap, a connection to family
and friends lost for an undetermined
span. I think that’s why guides and lodge
staff become so close. We spend enough
time together to learn each other’s
idiosyncrasies. And we know when to
give each other space. North Haven has
become more than a place of employment
for me and I consider the staff as family.
That can be said about the clients we
guide, too. They may be a stranger the day
they fly into the lodge from Winnipeg, but
they’ll often leave as a friend. I love North
Haven and the Manitoba wilderness so
much, that the one year I planned to guide
here has turned into three and there’s no
end in sight.
I will be honest, though. There are good
days, great days and days that downright
suck. On a lake nearing 30-miles long,
the weather creates some not so ideal
conditions. There are days when running
the 18-foot Lund ProGuide through the
swells is a grind. And, throughout the
season we see snow, driving rain, bright
sun, sweltering heat and black flies.
That made my first season guiding at North
Haven a bit of a struggle. I had to learn a
maze of islands that make up Utik Lake,
and try to find out what worked best on
pike, all while battling the elements. The
second season was far more successful.
I pooled my knowledge from the first
season and set out with a plan, paying
close attention to moon phases and wind
direction, and always looking for creek-
fed bays. All of this time on the water has
given me the confidence to make decisions
that can turn a bad day into a great day. If
70
people are willing to listen . . . sometimes
we might need to burn two hours of an
eight-hour fishing day running to the far
end of the lake. Some people are happy
to accept a beautiful boat right, and the
chance to see moose, black bear, caribou,
and loons, as part of the equation; others
say, “Here to fish, not for a boat ride.”
That is the challenge and reward I find
while guiding at North Haven. And my
opportunity to guide here only arrived
because I never said no to adventure. As
you read this I might be issuing a 5:45
wakeup call before heading out on the
water to find a 50-incher . . . and loving
every minute of it.
As much as I love throwing big marabou flies
for pike, I’m never disappointed when it’s
“go-time” and I trade those nine-weight rods
for four-weights and an opportunity to cast
dry flies in the Rocky Mountains for trout.
At the same time I’m trading the power of
an outboard motor for oars, driven by my
now calloused hands. Rowing a driftboat
and running a tiller are worlds apart, and
so is the scenery between the low lying
Canadian Shield and the rugged snow-
capped peaks of the Rocky Mountains.
Every creek, river, and stream in the Elk
River watershed holds trout. Walk and
wade fishing on the smaller mountain
creeks allows anglers to thoroughly pick
apart runs, whereas drifting the Elk River is
a rapid-fire cast, drift and repeat scenario.
On these small streams I teach the stealth
and precision tactics that bring my clients
success. These fish can turn on and off
with hatches, but when they are on they
always eat dries (i.e., you don’t need to fish
indicators).