Yearly, six guys came together from all over the Midwest to fish The Great Sophie, as they called it. Two hours into Canada and thirty minutes from any known civilization, the camp was about as primitive as six grown men could take. Each year when they arrived, they had to fix the fireplace and pot belly stove just to cook on because previous migrant campers weren’t as careful with the property. The heat from the stove and fireplace was welcome at night when the temperature dropped 30 degrees and only the moon shone outside.
But in the day, all six went out into Upper and Lower Sophie and hauled in as many fish as they could handle. The catch of the day was Walleye, but the Northern Pike had a way of crowding them out. When three Northern were caught in a row, both boat engines were fired up and they moved to more hospitable waters. Rumor had it that Northern were edible with the right recipes and spices, but done wrong, they were just plain nasty. It was hard to mess up fresh Walleye, though, even under the worst of circumstances.
For seven whole days, six men left their all of their cell phones and handheld devices at home. The devices were worthless where they went anyhow without connectivity. They shared two emergency satellite phones among them – one in each boat – and were thankful each year they had them without needing to use them.
On the lake together on day three just after a massive downpour, Hank the newest to The Great Sophie asked, “What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Fish,” three of the men said in unison.
“Nothing else?”
“Beans maybe,” Ted said. “Noodles if there’s any left.”
“What about tomorrow for breakfast?”
“Fish,” all five said.
“What about…?”
“Fish!”
“Don’t you guys get tired of fish?” Hank asked.
“You realize you’re on a fishing trip on a pristine lake in Canada, don’t you? All the Walleye you can eat all the time, every day.”
“Oh yeah, I realize that…” He stopped in mid-sentence.
Hank felt a tug on his line.
“Hey, I got something,” he said as he yanked at the rod to hook it.
“I’m guessing Northern after that rainstorm,” Burt said.
Hank was reeling it in but it wasn’t going fast and asked, “Any of you guys know how to cook turtle?”
“Turtle?” Ted asked. “There are no tur…”
“Hey, would you look at that. It’s a pretty hefty critter too. Size of a nice dinner plate,” said Burt.
“Well, it’s a change of pace from Walleye,” said Hank. “You guys aren’t thinking about eating him, are you? I mean…”
“Anyone ever have turtle?” Ted asked.
“Sure,” Burt said. “Tastes like chicken, only a little slower.”