The waves crash into the shore as I hear the 14 foot aluminum boats rub against the sand underneath. Far from our outpost with memory and the help of a GPS to get back, the four of us remain alone in the Canadian wilderness.

We decide to set shop up on a bay off the moving current for our shore lunch, with our eight walleye on the stringer along with packed boats full of gear acting like a pack mule. As the youngest of the group, my best friend Jake and I are called upon to unload and begin a fire on the beach. Each one of us resembles duties to help with, my father was the filleter, my uncle Ted was the cook, Jake was in charge of the fire, and I was in charge our preparing the fish for cooking and breading.  

Working to achieve our shore lunch in the sunny and cloud mix we discovered moose tracks knowing that not long ago this huge animal stood here, making Jake and I realize how truly in the wilderness we really are.

Hearing the sizzling of the freshly cooked food overlooking the glassed lake is a picture within itself.

“Order up,” Ted screams jokingly.

“Dibs on all of it,” Jakes rebuts. Everyone chuckles.

Silence sets upon us as we dine into the meal enjoying the hot steamy beans and the flakey crunchy fish, hearing the crunch of the fish and the crackle of the fire. We soon pack up and set off to explore more of the Canadian wilderness with the rest of the daylight we have.