I lived a share of my life in "God's Country". Unfortunately there came a time for me to have to move on from the place that I came to love. Every year I go back as often as I can to fulfill my needs of being in the land of Yoopers. I often find that there are not enough days in a year to satisfy my hunger for the north. Instead I'm often left with nothing but dreams and memories of times past. I made my way up past the boundaries of hurried people and responsibilities. I've been yearning for this weekend since last season when the leaves touched the ground and crunched under my feet. The drive up brought great anticipation. The possibilities of large trout, bears, and wild sounds that keep kids up late into the nights in their tents. As the miles went by and stop after stop the excitement grew. At one gas station stop, not far from our destination, things boiled over. There had been no reports of hatches and fish looking up yet. But when the fish truck stopped and the door opened this was the view. Sulphers! There were tons of them everywhere. We were in and out of that gas station as if we were coming out of pit row at Indy. My thoughts raced as well, "Could there be these kind of bugs a bit north where we will be" and "Could the trout be sipping these right now?" We arrived at a familiar destination. Our camp site, which is like a home, was available. The sun was long gone and it was time to jump out and pitch our "home". Before I even got the fish truck door closed I could hear a barred owl "hooting". My wife and I stood there motionless and quite with big smiles on our face. Then we heard another owl respond. We stood there only for a few moments before we heard a loon on the lake. We decided to walk down to the lake and look at the stars and watch the moon shimmer it's light by reflection on the water. The wind was blowing nicely through the giant white pines that line the lake and it pushed lapping waters to our ears and feet. In the morning we slowly lumbered around camp. The lake was looking magnificent in the daylight as well. Very vivid like in my winter dreams. We walked the shoreline for a short spell to stretch out the legs. We came across a great advertisement and we decided it was time to take it up on it. We hit a secluded trout lake with our canoe. It's a lake that has treated us well in the past and was to treat us well again. We started to paddle out on the copper colored water. With in just a few short strokes we saw signs of life. There were rings and splashes happening way our in front of our bow. I like to let my wife get a few fish before I start waggling the fly rod. We got into position and she took out her line and worked a few double hauls and softly laid our her fly. She was patient and let it sit for what seemed like and eternity to me. Then bang! She winds up catching a 10" brookie. She quickly released it and then laid out another cast. BANG! 15" brookie! The largest one yet to date for her. I could not resist any longer. It was like watching someone eat fried chicken while my stomach is growling. I had to dig in! I found a good ring on the water and casted a few feet away from it. BANG! After a bit of a battle I landed a 15" Brookie. Cast again. BANG! 16" Brookie. We sat there laughing as we were catching nice brookie after nice brookie. Then I saw a nice sip and flung the feather just short of it. BANG! After a very nice fight a 17", Master Angler, trout came to hand. In between catching trout and laughing we noticed there was someone else fishing. They were getting a bit unusually to close. We like to keep our distance from others that are fishing and typically they like to keep their distance too. But I guess fishing was too good.....heck it was and so neither of us minded. At times the loon would swim right under the canoe. The loon didn't need to fool the trout but we did and we would use hennie and sulfer patterns. Both on top and below. The light was getting low and it was time to head back for a fire and some fresh trout.