The route to the lodge was remarkable in its unremakableness. Mile after mile, hour after hour, of the same trees and lakes below. Yet ever so slightly, the farther we went the thinner the trees became. We were approaching the treeline, the invisible point where the ground is frozen for too long each year to give life to trees. This is where the main camp, Treeline Lodge, is at and where we would stay. Gary and Lois run two other camps, one farther north in the treeline, and one in the "barrens," beyond the reach of the trees.

Their landing strip is an amazing combination of nature and the hand of man. As the glaciers pushed south and then retreated they left great mounds of sand and gravel known as eskers. The glacier and the bulldozer combine to make a long flat strip of packed gravel. The also maintain their own navigational beacon for the strip. It is a wise idea, for this far north a compass is unreliable. The angles of declination between true and magnetic north become frequent and exaggerated. It is amazing that in a time not very long ago, navigation was done solely with the eye, memory, and maps. And before the plane, the chronograph and the sextant and the stars were the only guide to follow along maps of dubious accuracy.

And so it was that we landed on a radio beam, and climbed down the sky stairs to the firm, sun bleached gravel - and immediate removed two layers of clothes!!! We had thought in our minds that the north is always cold. But in the summer, the sun is high above but for a few hours in the middle of the night. The temperature was close to 80 degrees and not a cloud to be seen.
We boarded the lodges custom boats for the short trip from the landing strip to the lodge. The boats were designed to seat three - two guests and a guide, and had a platform in the bow to cast from with storage below. All three of us would squeeze in, but the 18' boat still had plenty of room.

At the lodge, we settled into our small cabin, and had a visit from our guide. Napoleon (Nap) Denecheze was a Chippewa who lived a ways to the south and worked at the lodge in the summer. He had come by to look over our fishing gear and make suggestions on how to set up our rigs.

We then made our way to the lodge for cocktails and to meet the other guests. Dinner was an amazing event every night, as every meal in the lodge was. The meals were nothing of tremendous culinary creativity, but fresh and filling and good. I was reminded again of the great logistical challenges of making such a meal in the remote north.

And then we retired for the evening and pulled the blankets over our heads, waiting for the sun to eventually set at around 11:00 PM. And after the short night we were up shortly after the sun, which rose at about 4:00 in the morning. Fresh coffee was delivered to the cabin, and the water heaters fired up for morning showers. After a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, we were off to the boats.
With four people in our boat, Nap decided we needed more power to quickly get to the fishing holes. He augmented the standard 20 Hp outboard with an additional 15 Hp engine. Once we got going, Nap would lock down the 15 Hp at full throttle and use the 20 Hp to steer with.

Nap's sense of direction was absolutely amazing. I never saw him consult a map, but we always headed in the right direction.I would look at a map at night and try to figure out where we had been the day before. My minds eye would quickly become confused in the scattering of minute islands and channels and inlets. When we were on the lake, I would only recognize the last mile or so of land before the lodge.

We would travel in the boat for at least an hour every morning to find the fishing holes. And in those holes would hopefully be lake trout and northern pike (jackfish). And in great abundance. Through excellent management of the fishery, Gary and Lois have maintained Nueltin's claim as one of the premier, pristine fishing spots in the world.

All three of us had a trophy lake trout. Mom's was the biggest at 37 pounds. All trophy fish are released. Period. We also had a few trophy northerns, but we were mainly fishing for lake trout. And the quantity was great as well. One day I went casting from shore before lunch. Either I found the magical snakes nest of northern, or I kept catching the same fish, but either way I had a northern on the line for about an hour straight!

We never had to worry about catching lunch. There would always be a good eating fish or two on the stringer well before lunchtime. And if there wasn't, lunch got pushed back. Not only is a trip to Nueltin about fishing, but also enjoying the traditional northern shore lunch. And Nueltin gave us the shore lunch of a lifetime.
Why is there a door on the beach?

Learn more about the sagas of past Nueltin residents Ragner Jonsson and Farley Mowat...