Camp High Life

So half buried in the fallen leaves behind camp Britney finds this beat up old sign that had been washed down the river, a Miller High Life sign. I hung it from a tree and now it is officially the High Life Camp. Home of some of the best channel catfish fishing you are ever going to see. In fact I spent most of my time unhooking and taking photos of Britney's fish. Or to hear her tell it, she caught most of the fish and all of the bigger ones. The fishing was good enough that after an hour or so we wandered off to build a fire and roast some metts and brats. In fact one photo is of Britney starting the fire with a ferro rod and survival rod like a hardcore wildwoman of the woods.
September even though it's the best month of the year still leaves me feeling a bit blue. Knowing it's the beginning of the end of summer sometimes makes me just as happy to spend time on cooking food over the fire, looking for tracks in the mud, and good conversation around a campfire as much as my usual fishing from daylight to dark. Though here in another week or two cooling water temps will have me back spending every spare second chasing big smallies but this weekend I'm content to catch some catfish, practice a little bushcraft, and reminisce  about the summers fishing.
So the next night after watching Britney catch every fish in the river I sneak back without her. A tarp set up in a flying wedge with a fire out front. Since woodswoman started the fire with a ferro rod and knife I just had to keep pace by starting the fire with a flint and steel. The woods was still a bit damp from yesterdays sprinkling so I found a fallen poplar tree that was propped up off the ground a few feet. I stripped some loose bark off the underside and gathered some of the stringy inner bark for a birdsnest to catch fire. There is something immensely satisfying about blowing that birdsnest into fire and starting it the way Daniel Boone would have. If you hunt up Dave Bradley on facebook he will forge you a handmade steel and you can channel your inner pioneer. Probably not the most practical way to start a fire but like bowhunting or flyfishing or catching your own bait it's the journey rather than the destination that's important.
I added a little water to a ziplock baggie that contained flour, a bit of baking powder and a pinch of dried ramps for a little garlic flavor. I kneaded the baggie till the mixture formed a dough. I took this out and rolled it between my hands forming a rope out of it which I twisted around a stick and baked over the fire making a bread to eat by the fire.
Deer were seemingly ever present this trip and I must have seen ten or twelve. I also saw an osprey, a kingfisher, and a beaver. I seined out some crawfish for bait and even caught a beautiful logperch darter in the net. Rigging was simple, a baitholder hook with a couple splitshot seven or eight inches up the line. The craw was hooked in the tail and flipped up into the fastest part of the riffle. As it washed down the riffle occasionally there was a twitch in the line or it would halt moving and you would set into a feisty catfish. A simple wonderful old school fishing trip down the river, and a nice way to mark summer's passing...