May 2023 — Northern Walleye Lodge, Missanabie, Ontario
I’d been to Northern Walleye Lodge on Dog Lake four times before this. Every trip I came home thinking the same thing — I want to bring Devin here.
He’s 27, has a young family, works hard. Getting him away for a week isn’t easy, and neither is paying for it. But we finally pulled it off and caught the spring walleye opener in May of 2023.
I wanted Devin to see this lake in both seasons — spring and fall. Spring is the walleye opener, fresh ice-out, cold water, hungry fish. Fall is a different animal altogether. We’d come back for that one the following year. But this trip — this was the first one.
I knew he’d love the place. What I didn’t know was how the fishing was going to go.
The lodge
Northern Walleye Lodge sits on the southwest shore of Dog Lake, up near Missanabie. Warren and Melanie own it, and they’ve put real work into it over the years I’ve been going. Solar power, electrical upgrades, new roofs on the cabins, a trail system running from the cabins up to the main lodge. Every trip I’ve made there, something’s been improved. Nothing fancy — just steady, careful work on a place they clearly care about.
The cabins are clean. The beds are something else — they didn’t skimp there. I sleep better at that lodge than I do at home. Warren and Mel want you to have the best possible time staying with them, and it shows in everything from the roof over your head to the bedding on the bunk.
Out on the lake there are eagles everywhere — bald and golden both. You see them most days, sitting in a dead pine or working a thermal off the ridge. You never really get used to it.
Zack
The staff made the trip. One fellow in particular — Zack — we got on with so well we invited him out on his day off.
At the time, Zack wasn’t a guide. He was lodge staff. But out on the water with us, he might as well have been. Reading the water by temperature, watching the natural cues, picking out fish movement — he knew things I hadn’t figured out in four trips up there.
I have a habit when someone seems to know what they’re talking about: I’ll throw in a few questions I already know the answers to. A bullshit check. Zack never made anything up. If he didn’t know, he said so. And when he did know, he knew.
So I told him: you should be guiding. I told Warren the same. I suspect Zack had already been thinking about it — he just needed the nudge to make it official. Warren gave his blessing. Zack’s been running guided trips ever since. Good for him. Good for anyone lucky enough to hire him.
You can find him on YouTube as Fishing with Zak, on Instagram as @fishing_with_zak, and on Facebook as fishingwithzakp.
Day one — the lake trout
We got on the water mid-afternoon on the first day. The lake had only been ice-free a couple of weeks. Water was still very cold, and no bugs were out yet — not ideal. Compared to my past trips up there, this was a tougher spring. I told Devin not to expect fifty fish a day this week. We might be in for a grind.
Five minutes into our first troll — still in sight of the lodge — his rod bent hard. I figured he was snagged. Then I looked at the sounder. Fifty-five feet of water, and his lure wouldn’t run deeper than fifteen. I cut the motor and reeled in my line. Whatever he had, it wasn’t bottom.
It was a lake trout. His first lake trout. His line hadn’t even been wet five minutes.
Devin was amazed. I was too, honestly.
We got a picture and let it go. Not a bad way to start a trip.
The first night — the 28-inch walleye
That night we set up for walleye. I caught a couple of nothing-special ones. Then Devin asked for a big chub minnow.
That’s something his grandfather — my dad — used to say. Big bait, big fish.
Few minutes later he was hollering for the net. A 28-inch walleye came up beside the boat. Then a 26. I told him to try a smaller minnow and catch a normal-sized fish. He laughed, hooked up a small one, and pulled in a 27.
That spot was a narrow stretch under a set of electrical wires running across the lake. Known water. In spring a few other boats work it most nights — no surprise there. The surprise was how they started drifting closer the more Devin reeled in. Not piling on. Just inching the way boats do when they see something working. A few of them picked up fish too. Nothing like what Devin was landing.
Funny thing — on almost every lake I’ve fished, if there’s a set of electrical wires crossing the water, that stretch is a hot spot. I don’t know why. Just an observation.
Our old metal stringer couldn’t hold what we were bringing in — it bent and nearly let a fish go. Warren gave us a heavy one from the lodge for the rest of the week.
Back at the cabin
The lodge doesn’t supply meals — you cook your own. The cabins are set up for it though: kitchen, pots and pans, everything you need. We brought our own crock pot because I had plans.
We didn’t rough it.
Between fishing runs, we pigged out. One night we put away about four pounds of chicken wings between the two of us. I’d brought up a couple of ribeye steaks — inch and a half thick — those things were incredible. I had the crock pot going for two days with a beef stew, way more than we needed, but we just kept pecking at it between trips out on the water.
Probably too much food. Definitely too many laughs.
Second evening of the trip, after a long day fishing, we cracked a few beers. Wobbly pops. Devin doesn’t really drink, and I don’t either — not very often. But that night we both decided to have a couple and sit on it.
Full bellies, a decent buzz, a whole day of fishing behind us. Talking about the fish, talking about nothing, laughing at both.
One of those nights you don’t forget.
Rough water
Dog Lake can get rough. One day that week the wind came up hard, and we had to cross the main body to get back to the lodge. The waves were big.
I think Devin’s eyes opened up a little on that crossing.
That’s Dog Lake. It’s a big piece of water. Calm days aren’t the norm — when the wind comes up, you feel every mile of it.
Pike day
We dedicated one day to pike. Didn’t find the big one we were hoping for, but Devin landed a 24 and a 28. Plenty of fight in both of them. Plenty of stories later, too, swapping notes with the other guys back at the lodge that night.
Fire on the shore
One morning we worked our way way out to the far end of the lake, a long way from the lodge. It was cold out there. Not slightly cold. Fingers-not-working cold.
We pulled into a back bay, nosed the boat up onto the shoreline, gathered up some dry wood, and got a little fire going on the rocks. Stood around it warming our hands, drying our gloves.
Then we started casting from shore.
For the next hour or two we stood at the edge of that bay, fire at our backs, working the shallows. Four or five walleye between us. Fish in the freezer already, so they all went back.
Shore fishing. A back bay we’d never fished before, nobody else within earshot.
Some of the best fishing of the trip.
The 29 and the shore lunch
Second-to-last day we got out early and worked some water I’d never fished before. I pulled in a 29-inch walleye. Biggest one of my trip.
After a week of watching Devin reel in 27s and 28s, I’ll admit it felt good.
Devin finally landed a walleye under 20 inches — his first of the week — and we had a laugh about that being the real milestone.
We pulled up to shore for lunch. Frying pan, oil, Fish Crisp Cajun seasoning, fresh walleye off the stringer. Ate it right there by the boat.
I don’t know if it was the fish, or the week, or both — but it’s the kind of meal you remember for a long time.
Mornings
Devin has a hard time falling asleep, and a harder time waking up. I know, because I raised him.
So I’ll admit I wasn’t sure how the mornings were going to go on this trip.
Every one of them, he was up with me at dawn.
I like early morning fishing. Always have. Mist on the water, no wind, the first bites of the day — that’s my time. He knew it. He never once said I think I’ll sleep in. Cold mornings, tired mornings, late nights the day before — didn’t matter. He was dressed and at the coffee pot when I was.
I didn’t say anything to him about it. But I noticed every time.
Going home
We didn’t catch the most fish I’ve ever caught on Dog Lake. My trips up here with my buddy Tyler still hold those numbers — and those are their own kind of amazing week.
This one was a different kind. The kind you only get with your son.
Warren, Melanie, and Zack aren’t just lodge staff anymore — they’re people I’ll go back to see. Devin got to see a place I’d been telling him about for years. And we got a week together that we’ll both remember.
We drove out of Missanabie with the lake behind us and a lot of miles ahead. Long drive home.
I didn’t mind it.
Devin and I went back the following fall. That’s the next post.
