outdoors

The absurdity of my error smacked me suddenly in my face. I was reading Patricia Shultz’ New York Times best-seller “1,000 Places to See Before You Die,” salivating over exotic destinations like the Great Wall of China, the Alhambra Palace in Spain and the Serengeti Desert in Tanzania. I turned the page when––without any warning––out jumped a “must-see” destination that was basically in my own backyard … and I’d never even been there once.
 
I had flown in helicopter over Hawaii’s Na Pali coast, I had hiked Alaska’s gold-rush mountains, I had ascended Jamaica’s Dunn’s River waterfall, I had conquered “The Path of the Gods” along Italy’s Amalfi Coast, but I had never been to Bayfield, Wisconsin. The error of my omission jolted me into action.
 
So my wife and I set sail for Bayfield, which is to say, we threw some stuff in our Chevy Impala after work one Friday and drove 3½ hours. “That was easy,” Jodie mumbled when I nudged her awake in the passenger seat as we pulled into our B&B of choice. “Oh, wow,” she said, suddenly alert. “This looks really nice.”

 
Our home for the weekend was Wisconsin’s very first bed and breakfast, the Old Rittenhouse Inn. A Victorian house first occupied by a former Civil War general, the antique-filled Inn is today owned and operated by the Phillips family. As we quickly discovered, the Rittenhouse Inn’s appearance in Shultz’s “1,000 Places to See Before You Die” has as much to do with the family’s devotion to serving guests as it does with the B&B’s breathtaking views of Lake Superior and close proximity to the Apostle Islands.

The father of the Phillips family, Jerry, taught high school, met his bride––a fellow teacher––and then ignored everyone’s advice by risking it all and buying the Rittenhouse Inn some 38 years ago. His loyal sister, Julie, has worked by his side through it all and seems to feel her personal mission in life to start every person’s day off with a smile (enjoy even just one breakfast there and you’ll see what I mean).

The primary Innkeeper at the Rittenhouse is none other than Jerry’s son, Mark, who’s basically lived at the Inn since age 3. So perhaps Mark’s wife is the only “outsider” helping to run Rittenhouse? Well, not exactly. In high school she worked as a housekeeper at the Inn, then served as a waitress and maitre’d through her college years before––you guessed it––falling in love with Mark.

“It was kind of an unspoken thing between us that someday he and I would be running it,” she said. “Managing Rittenhouse has brought both joy and stress. It’s a constant inspiration to try to offer the best accommodations, the best dining, and the best service.”

That “service” for us included recommendations on how to see the best of Bayfield in one full day. Following their advice, we woke before the sun and raced up the hill to Le Chateau for the ultimate view of a Lake Superior sunrise. We weren’t disappointed.

Later that morning we cruised on a “3-hour tour” around the Apostle Islands which, it so happens, were misnamed by French missionaries who thought the islands numbered 12 instead of 22. (Apparently the French aren’t mathematicians.)

Weaving through the islands broke up the big lake in a way I hadn’t experienced before. After all, you can see Superior from the moon. It contains enough water to cover the entire land mass of North and South America in a foot of water. I’m used to gazing out from Duluth and seeing nothing but steely blue waves; to see, for my first time, the heavily forested Apostles interrupting the sea of Superior showed me a new side of the lake.

Also new was the experience, later that afternoon, of driving my car onto a boat and being ferried across to Madeline Island. On the island, Big Bay State Park provided a relaxing hike through 2,350 acres teeming with wildlife, beaches, and sandstone cliffs.
 

The culture on the island is distinctly different––you get the impression the people who already love Madeline wish that new people would quit falling in love with the island and leave her alone.

At a local pub on Madeline Island we bumped into a good friend of mine who had just won a sailboat race that day––in fact, we unknowingly saw the race in progress during our Apostle Island cruise. He’s been sailing around the islands for a decade and admitted to me that the locals at Madeline keep urging him to shut up about their hidden gem.

But he loves the island too much not to share it with his friends, and with sunsets like the one we enjoyed, it’s easy to see why.

After dark we returned to the Old Rittenhouse Inn for what was, perhaps, the highlight of our time in Bayfield: dinner at Rittenhouse’s Landmark Restaurant. I knew I was in for a treat when the breakfast that morning blew me away. I am firm in my belief that breakfast is the least important meal of the day; hence I rarely eat it and never developed a taste for breakfast food.

Nonetheless, Executive Chef Matt Chingo’s creativity and talents are obvious and overwhelming. Breakfast was fantastic and dinner, quite frankly, was one of the absolute best meals I have ever had. I’m well aware of the fact that I’m not a talented enough writer to do the dinner justice, so instead I’ll simply list some of the dishes and make one key distinction: the dinner is done entirely with a verbal menu.

Smoked Trout Salad: Local trout smoked with applewood served on a bed of wild rice and mixed greens dressed with lemon vinaigrette topped with garden chives and aged Wisconsin cheddar.

Steak Bercy: Grilled filet mignon with Yukon mashed potatoes, vegetable du jour and a Bercy sauce made with veal reduction, butter, herbs, garlic and burgundy wine and topped with a giant Bercy mushroom cap.

Chocolate Torte: Chocolate mousse layered between dark chocolate ganache frosting layers. Served with Bayfield raspberry sauce, whipped cream, and shaved chocolate.       
      
Our waiter, Lance, recited in delicious detail all the key components in the 5-course meal by memory. It is a special ritual at Rittenhouse that catches you off-guard and makes the experience come to life: Sitting by the fireplace in an old Victorian mansion overlooking Lake Superior’s crashing waves, listening to Lance declare the day’s fresh fish and local ingredients.

We were so stuffed by the time dessert was done, we were grateful that all we had to do was stumble up a few stairs from the dining room to our bedroom to go to sleep. We slept well with full bellies and the knowledge that this day, which had started with a Superior sunrise, ended with us having enjoyed the beauty of Bayfield and the Apostle Islands … a beauty that definitely deserves its spot in “1,000 Places to See Before You Die.”

The website for The Old Rittenhouse is www.rittenhouseinn.com. For more information, email frontdsk@rittenhouseinn.com or call 1-888-611-4667.

“Is this Heaven?”

No, it’s Wisconsin. Canoe Bay, to be exact, but the serenity and solitude offered here surely rival that found past the Pearly Gates. And, if you’re an angler or nature lover trying to convince your significant other to join you for a weekend in the great outdoors, you may want to split the difference.

After all, it’s not very often you find a private lake teeming with giant largemouth bass that just so happens to be overlooked by “one of the 50 most romantic hotels in the world,” according to Travel & Leisure. The real kicker, for fellow Twin Cities residents, is that this gem which USA Today named “the Midwest’s premier rustic-elegant hideaway,” is barely over 100 miles east of St. Paul.

So, as someone who loves to fish, hike, camp and kayak, I decided to take my wife, someone who defines “camping” as staying in any hotel that costs less than a $100 a night. The result was a trip that blew us both away, but for different reasons.

I was amazed by the natural beauty surrounding Canoe Bay, a series of lakeside rooms and cottages secluded in the heavily forested Indianhead Region near Chetek, Wisconsin. At the center of Canoe Bay’s 300 forested acres lies Lake Wahdoon, a lake carved out by glaciers thousands of years ago, hidden today by giant maple and oaks trees over 130 years old.

You can hike miles of well-maintained trails through the massive hardwoods without seeing or hearing any signs of people or civilization. Nonetheless, you do get the distinct feeling of always being watched.

The woods are thick with wildlife, including whitetail deer, bear and pheasants, as well as the ducks and loons that live on Wahdoon and its hidden sister lakes. No motorboats are allowed, and the only access is via Canoe Bay, which accommodates a maximum of 25 couples at a time (no children are allowed, which further enhances the unique serenity and silence). There are canoes and kayaks available to enjoy the lake, and fishing is as good as you’d expect it to be on a remote, spring-fed lake that is virtually un-touched and remains strictly catch-and-release.

And trust me, you won’t be missing any shore lunch. Dinner at Canoe Bay’s lakeside dining room is an experience unto itself, with a gourmet chef using fresh, local ingredients to prepare new offerings every day––with a constantly changing menu to feature the freshest food available. Maybe this sample menu will give you a better sense of what I’m talking about:

Salad
Salad of garden greens & radishes with orange supremes, toasted pine nuts, grana padano cheese, citrus vinaigrette.

Entree
Pan-seared Alaskan Copper River Salmon on house-made Capellini Pasta with Zucchini Pearls, Cherry Tomatoes, Herbed Beurre Blanc.

Dessert
Caramel Apple Tartlet
Vanilla Bean Ice Cream, Mint

Of course, a picture is worth a thousand words, so perhaps these photos from our dinner will do the Canoe Bay dining experience some justice. I didn’t know pork could taste this good! 

Needless to say, dinner was a high point for the both of us. But for my wife, the non-camper, the ultimate highlight was the cottage itself. I have to admit, it’s hard to argue with that. It’s amazing, quite frankly, that the cabins can be so spectacular––ours was 1,300 square feet, with two stone fireplaces, a beautiful living room overlooking the lake, and a private spa equipped with an exercise bike, sauna, whirlpool and two-person steam shower––and still blend in perfectly with their woodland surroundings.

I guess that’s the genius of architectural legend Frank Lloyd Wright, whose protégé and partner actually designed much of Canoe Bay. Given the architectural brilliance of these cottages, it’s no surprise that in the weeks before us, guests had travelled from South Africa, Denmark, Britain and Israel to spend time here.

Let me put it this way: If these aren’t the finest cottages you’ve ever stepped foot in, I want to know where the heck you’ve been!

Perhaps our favorite time at the cottage came on our first night after dinner, relaxing on our deck in the darkness of night. Rain had threatened earlier in the afternoon but held off during my wife’s first-ever canoe excursion. Through dinner, the clouds darkened, then finally, after nightfall, thunder broke. The lightning illuminated the night sky, putting on dazzling display of natural fireworks. From our perch on the deck we were completely dry––all the rain was off in the distance, and we could sit together in the blackness and watch the horizon flash violently. 

With each glimpse of light in sky above, we couldn’t help but ask the question: “Is that Heaven?”


The website for Canoe Bay is www.canoebay.com. For more information, call (715) 924-4594 or email reservations@canoebay.com.

Name any fisherman out there, and Larry Dahlberg is better. That’s not according to me; it’s according to all the biggest names in fishing––from the top pros, to the savviest outdoor writers, to the diehard guides who spend 300 days a year on the water. I asked them all “Who’s the best in the world?” And the answer was overwhelming.

Dahlberg’s the undisputed champ not because he’s caught fish in every far-flung corner of the globe––landing trophies in more than 86 countries––but because even in those countries I can’t pronounce or place on a map (like Sao Tome, Africa and Suriname, South America) Dalhberg’s caught fish when the local guides couldn’t. No matter where he goes, he simply knows how to hook 'em.

And so, when I waited to meet the man at a muskie expo where I’d heard whispers he might appear, I expected to see a character from Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” burst through the doors, wearing a necklace of tiger fangs or lugging a pair of elephant tusks on his back. Not so. Instead, I had to strain to see the diminutive Dahlberg as broad-shouldered muskie anglers clamored around the legend who conquers the object of their excitement, the notoriously fussy muskellunge, with a fly he invented.

He revolutionized fly-fishing, in fact, by inventing dozens of flies, the first of which was inspired by dropping tinsel while helping his mother decorate a Christmas tree.

His father was harsh. He refused to take Dahlberg fishing until the boy could cast a big muskie lure across the yard, under a bar on the swing set and into a small box eight out of ten times. After a summer of relentless practice, Dahlberg developed deadly accuracy, passed the test and was allowed on adventures down the St. Croix River … as a rower.

By age 11, Dahlberg was guiding clients and bucking conventional wisdom with his homemade flies that caught more and bigger bass than any bait the river had ever seen. In-Fisherman offered him every angler’s dream job, but he bolted to feed his insatiable appetite to chase exotic fish across the world. He self-funded the first two demo episodes of his now-famous “The Hunt for Big Fish” TV show on his credit card before ESPN picked it up 16 years ago; then Dahlberg began whipping around the world at a pace of 350,000 miles a year.

He’s caught more than 50 line-class world records, including a 220-pound Nile perch that may still be the largest freshwater bony fish ever caught on a hook and line. His daring bravado and obsessive desire to overcome insurmountable obstacles by sheer force of will beg comparison to Teddy Roosevelt. But even Roosevelt wasn’t this crazy.

Dahlberg’s tangled with tarpon off the Western coast of Gabon, Africa. He’s tamed wolf fish with a fly rod in Suriname, South America. He’s battled sailfish on the volcanic island of Principe, a 136 square-kilometer dot in the Atlantic Ocean where Albert Einstein’s Theory of Relativity was proven true during an eclipse in 1919. Dahlberg’s dramatic flair and exotic escapades inspire everyday anglers to consider the unfathomable. It is, perhaps, his greatest accomplishment. 

And yet, he remains modest––unwilling to call himself the best angler alive, but very willing to welcome me into his home near the St. Croix River to talk about fishing and faraway places. As we stood in front of his private pond, where he tests out his newest fishing lures, I asked him a somber question: Does he ever feel his life in danger when he’s in some God-forsaken country with not much more than a fishing pole? “When I’m out there fishing,” he said, “I feel invisible.”

I thought back to the first time I met Dahlberg, at Josh Stevenson’s Blue Ribbon Bait & Tackle muskie expo. When I wiggled my way to the front of the crowd to shake his hand, I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘How in the heck does this little guy catch all these colossal fish?’

“I only weigh 170 pounds,” admitted Dahlberg, a damn good guitar player and gymnast who’s caught 8-foot Amazon catfish. “You have to think like the Egyptians. Use your mind, not your muscle.” Then off he went, explaining intricate details about leverage and angles and physics to fishermen who nodded eagerly. I laughed. Physics and logic? Dahlberg defies such rules.

Apparently Dahlberg understands the laws of nature, he simply chooses to ignore them.

Dahlberg and metro guide Josh Stevenson caught 100 muskies while fishing together in just 1 year alone (nobody said life was fair). “Larry thinks on an entirely different level than other fisherman,” said Stevenson (www.mightmusky.com). “He has unmatched fishing experience with an incredible ability to compare bodies of water from around the world and understand fish movements better than anyone.”

Dahlberg and his fishing buddy, metro guide Josh Stevenson, caught 100 muskies while fishing together in just 1 year alone (nobody said life was fair). “Larry thinks on an entirely different level than other fisherman,” said Stevenson (www.mightmusky.com). “He has unmatched fishing experience with an incredible ability to compare bodies of water from around the world and understand fish movements better than anyone.”