2001 Canada Expedition to the Little Garden River

Have you ever been on a trip where you didn't know how much you enjoyed it until you returned home?

Well, I have and I bet there are 18 other guys that felt the same way after we returned home from our 2001 expedition to the Little Garden River in Ontario, Canada. There is no way I can adequately describe to the reader the enjoyment and comradery of such a trip, but hopefully I can give you a brief synopsis of our experience.

Early in the planning process for this expedition, it was suggested that we should break the 18 hour trip into two days travel time each way. I was very hesitant to agree with this suggestion until it was mentioned that we could stay over in Dundee, Michigan, home of the largest Cabela's retail store. Man, was I glad we broke the trip up. After arriving in Dundee, we went straight to Cabela's even though most of the guys were ready to eat. You should have seen us as we entered the store. It reminded somewhat of the commercial with the guy that runs wild after entering a Circuit City store or maybe it more closely resembled the running of the bulls in Spain. Nevertheless, it wasn't a pretty site.

At 6:00 p.m., they threw us out and we reluctantly left and made our way to Applebee's for a bite to eat. The next morning, we left Dundee and headed north towards the Canadian border. I could sense a feeling of excitement and anxiety as we approached the border. Were the border guards going to force us to empty the contents of the vans, utility trailer, and camper? If they did, we would lose at least a couple of hours unpacking and packing gear? Thanks to answered prayer, we cruised through the border with no trouble at all.

After meeting up with 4 of the guys who had driven up on Saturday, we made our way northward to an unpaved road that led to the Little Garden River. Everything was going smoothly until we reached a steep hill just a few hundred yards from our campsite. That is where the van pulling the utility trailer got stuck. After several unsuccessful attempts to free the trailer, we made the decision to unload the trailer and ascend the hill before reloading. I was so encouraged when all 19 men pitched in and assisted in unloading and reloading gear. Within 30 to 40 minutes, we were at the cabin setting up camp and cooking dinner.

After dinner, we had a time of informal group fellowship before hitting the sack. Sometime during the night, I was awakened by a loud growling noise!

The owner of the land and cabin had warned us about bears in the area so I knew that was what I was hearing. Personally, I felt safe since I had decided to sleep in one of the vans. But, what about the other guys? There were several men sleeping in a tent and a pop-up camper. What do I do? I had no weapons unless you want to count a 2"Gerber lock blade. Man, I was in turmoil and scared half to death as the sound continued to resonate throughout the camp. However, after a few moments of pain staking agony, I decided to try to scare the bear(s) away from camp. I slipped on my boots and jumped out of the van half-naked. Once I was out of the van, I could hear more clearly but unfortunately for me, I now heard growling noises coming from every direction.

Had a whole pack of bears infiltrated our camp or what?

Man was I outnumbered!!! But as I began to listen more closely, I could pick up growling noises coming from inside the tent, the camper, and yes even the 6-man cabin located more than 50' away. This wasn't bears at all!!! It turned out to be just 10 to 12 snoring fishermen. Well, I was relieved to say the least. Heck, with the noises these guys were making, I knew we wouldn't have to worry about any bears approaching our camp at night. If the truth were known, every bear within a 5 mile radius had left the country in search for safer territory.

After slipping back into bed, I thanked the good Lord for the decision I had made to sleep in the van by myself. We awoke Tuesday morning, September 11, to what promised to be a beautiful and joyful day. The sky was blue, the birds were singing and the Little Garden River was full of King (Chinook) and Pink salmon ready for the taking. After an informal breakfast and a time of prayer, we partnered up and headed to the river for what turned out to be one of the most unforgettable days in not only our lives, but the lives of hundreds of millions of people in the United States and around the world.

Being my first trip to Canada, I was so excited when I reached the river and saw all of these huge salmon swimming up the river. Man, it looked like a trout farm but only better. However, these were no trout. Oh no!! There were dozens upon dozens of 15-30 pound king salmon swimming up the river every few moments. I figured on my first cast I would hook into one of these big brutes. Well, it didn't quite happen on my first cast or my second or even my fiftieth. Sure, I was catching a few pinks in the 2-3 pound class but all I could think about was hooking into a monster king.