outdoors

“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.

Some people don’t get to take the trip they’ve always dreamed of––death snatches them before they get a chance, or illness cripples them, or life’s everyday busyness burdens them until the dream just slips them by. I didn’t want that to happen to my dad.

So last week I took him on the Canadian fly-in fishing adventure that, for his entire life, he’s dreamed of going on “someday.” Fact is, there’s not a fishing lodge in Ontario my dad hasn’t read about; for decades he’s pored over brochures, preparing for the day he would climb into a rickety old floatplane and fly away into the Canadian wilderness.

Now, having just spent a week at KaBeeLo Lodge’s Bear Paw Lake outpost camp, he can honestly say the dreams didn’t do the experience justice … but not for the reasons you’d anticipate.

Sure, we caught tons of fish. Every day we’d have fishing streaks so hot you’d swear we were making it up––our jigs couldn’t sink 10 feet to the bottom of the lake before a fish would gobble them up. I had a 20-inch walleye bite a plain hook I left dangling six inches in the water as I grabbed for a new minnow. There were such feeding frenzies, one time a walleye bit me off, so I tied on a new jig and caught the same walleye 60 seconds later––and recovered my original Northland Fire-Ball Jig in its mouth!

And sure we caught big fish. Walleyes over 8 pounds and pike pushing 45 inches––the biggest of both species we’ve ever landed.

But that, to a degree, was anticipated. I figured Dad had waited his whole life for this trip, so I better make sure I took him to the best dang fly-in I could afford. I asked around, and KaBeeLo came strongly recommended to me by two friends of mine who know a thing or two about world-class fishing: Ron Schara and Bill Sherck.

And so, we sort of expected fishing to be phenomenal, even in September. What we didn’t expect, and simply couldn’t have anticipated, was to feel so close to the heavens. The sky we fished under was breathtaking and bold. And incredibly close.

 

 

That far north, fall days make you feel you can touch the sky. The clouds were so low they covered the lake in a retractable roof. We were tucked inside our own little snow-globe, illuminated every night by the moon. The full moon cast light to let us see our midnight-walleyes just well enough to unhook them and toss them back into the black waters of Bear Paw.

 

The nightly ritual––fast and furious fishing action under the moon––was new to us, but not to the walleyes, or to the fishermen before us. This is, in fact, KaBeeLo’s 40th year of existence. But last year, as the raging flames of a historically uncontrollable wildfire encircled owners Harald and Ann Lohn and torched their family’s Ontario fly-in fishing outpost camps––it looked like that 40th anniversary might not arrive.

Mother Nature nearly wiped many of the outpost camps at KaBeeLo Lodge off the map.

The fires, the worst to ravage Ontario’s vulnerable wilderness in 50 years, laid siege to over a million acres last summer. Two of KaBeeLo’s 13 outpost camps burnt to the ground, another half dozen were shut down with fishing parties getting evacuated for safety.

The Lohns refused to leave; instead the couple transformed their base lodge into command central for 100 firefighters and worked 20 hours a day to provide food and housing for those risking their lives to squelch the flames.

The Lohns survived. And so, the 40th anniversary did arrive.

“Running the lodge is a way of life,” Harald said. “You have to embrace all aspects of the entire operation.”

Harald’s cousin opened KaBeeLo in 1972, running it for a decade before selling it to Ann and Harald, who in a previous life ran the welfare system for the state of Maryland. Today, Harald and Ann can’t image life without KaBeeLo, and neither can their children, who grew up at the lodge and lived there into their early 20s. Their son remains heavily involved with the lodge today; watching his family’s float planes as a teenager inspired him to pursue a career in aviation.

In the end, it was aviators who helped save KaBeeLo last year when flames tried to claim the now-famous fly-in. A host of planes, as well as 17 helicopters, dumped millions of gallons of water on Ontario’s burning woods, squelching the flames and saving the dream––not only for Harald and Ann, but for folks like my dad.

“You know, Tony,” Dad told me as we approached the U.S. border on the car ride home from KaBeeLo. “I’m going to be dreaming about this trip for a long time." 

Good, Dad. That’s the point. 

The website for KaBeeLo Lodge is www.kabeelo.com. Call 1-800-233-2952 or email info@kabeelo.com for more information.

 

At top:  Dad likes to end each fishing outing with a catch. One night, after an hour of non-stop action, we ended our fishing with this beauty.

Above:  In 7 days, my dad and I went through 70 dozen minnows (my calculator says that's 840). Northland Fire-Ball Jigs and Northland Thumper Jigs were our go-to presentations for both walleye and pike.

Sure, we got lots of great fish photos on the trip, but to me it is the scenery pictures--like this photo of us riding into the sunset--that bring me back to that special time at KaBeeLo Lodge.

 

  

 

 

 

Normally you dream about sunrises like this, but at KaBeeLo, you wake up, step out onto your deck, and take pictures of 'em.

One year ago––as the raging flames of a historically uncontrollable wildfire encircled Harald and Ann Lohn and torched their family’s Ontario fly-in fishing outpost camps––it looked like today might not arrive. Mother Nature nearly wiped many of the outpost camps at KaBeeLo Lodge off the map.

The fires, the worst to ravage Ontario’s vulnerable wilderness in 50 years, laid siege to 1.6 million acres last summer. Two of KaBeeLo’s 13 outpost camps burnt to the ground, another half dozen were shut down with fishing parties getting evacuated for safety.
 

The Lohns refused to leave; instead the couple transformed their base lodge into command central for 100 firefighters and worked 20 hours a day to provide food and housing for those risking their lives to squelch the flames.

The Lohns survived. And so today did arrive: the 40th anniversary of the Lohn family running KaBeeLo Lodge.

“Running the lodge is a way of life,” Harald said. “You have to embrace all aspects of the entire operation.”

 

Harald’s cousin opened KaBeeLo in 1972, running it for a decade before selling it to Ann and Harald, who in a previous life ran the welfare system for the state of Maryland. Today, Harald and Ann can’t image life without KaBeeLo, and neither can their children, who grew up at the lodge and lived there into their young 20s. Their son remains heavily involved with the lodge today; watching his family’s float planes as a teenager inspired him to pursue a career in aviation.

And in the end, it was aviators who helped save KaBeeLo last year when flames tried to claim the now-famous fly-in. A host of planes, as well as 17 helicopters, dumped a staggering 28 million gallons of water on Ontario’s burning woods.
 

 
The images are unforgettable, and the Lohns’ dream––however unlikely––remains alive: 40 years … and counting.
 

Kabeelo Lodge survived the fires to maintain its reputation as one of Canada's finest fly-in lodges. "Kabeelo gets in your blood," says outdoor TV personality Bill Sherck, who makes an annual trip to Kabeelo with his dad. "Harald and Ann are amazing, and Kabeelo is one special place."

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.”