July, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
363 
CANOEING DOWN THE NEMEKAGON 
WISCONSIN WITH ITS MANY LAKES AND CONNECTING STREAMS OFFERS AN UN- 
LIMITED FIELD TO THE CANOEIST, WITH EXCELLENT FISHING ALONG THE WAY 
P ERHAPS there is no state in the 
Union offering greater inducements 
to the canoeist than Wisconsin and 
no state less written about from the 
canoeist’s viewpoint. Just spread out be- 
fore you a large scale map of the state, 
like the official railway map, and spend 
a few moments in study. Place your 
finger at Cavour, near the source of the 
Peshtigo River, and glance down its 
sinuous course, remembering its many 
high falls and roaring rapids, until you 
fetch up in Green Bay. Again: place 
your finger at Elcho, a short distance 
from Post Lake, the genesis of the wild 
wolf, and trace downward through forest 
primeval until you come out into farm- 
ing country and at last reach Lake 
Poygan; your voyage need not stop there 
if you have a penchant for civilized trip- 
ping, you can go up or down the Fox. 
Once more: place your finger on Mani- 
towish, where the Flambeau is small and 
innocent in appearance, and follow it 
down to its junction with the Chippewa, 
down that stream, wild and treacherous, 
to the mighty Mississippi itself. Should 
you care to do so you could begin your 
trip at Glidden, on the baby Chippewa. 
Just once more: place your finger at 
Eagle river, or better, Conover, where 
the Wisconsin dreams not of might and 
power, and trace your course downward 
through county after county, touching 
fourteen of them, practically crossing the 
state lengthwise, until the Father of 
Waters unfolds before you at Prairie du 
Chien. Remember these trips, and 
others — scores of them — offer trout, mus- 
kellunge and bass fishing second to none. 
Of course not all offer muskellunge fish- 
ing, but the last two mentioned above do. 
In my ambition to unravel every navi- 
gable river in the state, looking toward 
an authoritative book upon Wisconsin 
rivers, one that shall be something more 
than a mere guidebook, I began to cast 
about in the summer of 1917 for a thea- 
tre to stage the adventure. After due de- 
liberation and correspondence I settled 
upon the Nemekagon and St. Croix rivers. 
Take your map once more and follow up 
the Northwestern Line, between Eau 
Claire and Ashland, until you come to a 
station named Cable. (It is out from 
Cable, on Lake Owen, that Mr. L. E. 
Cavalier has his sportsman’s home, a do- 
main well worth visiting.) East of Cable 
you will discover a large and sprawling 
body of water. Lake Nemekagon, the 
source of the river of that name. Lake 
Nemekagon was to be my starting point. 
I selected the Nemekagon because it is lit- 
tle known, shallow and wild, and because 
its upper reaches and numerous conflu- 
ents afford trout fishing de luxe. As to 
the fishing offered below Hayward I was 
uninformed, though I knew that the 
small-mouth fishing on the St. Croix, 
above the junction of the Nemekagon, 
By 0. W. SMITH 
The Author and George 
was of the best; therefore I concluded 
that the latter stream would offer , 
but never mind now. 
My companion in adventure was a 
young man, strong of muscle and level- 
headed, who will be called in this yarn 
by his first name only, “George.” If I 
did not think that he might stumble upon 
this account I would pay tribute to his 
good nature and all around companion- 
ableness; always he did more than his 
half the work and bore patiently the 
crotchets of a middle aged angler who' 
thought he knew all there was to know 
about trout and bass fishing. The read- 
ers of this journal will appreciate 
George’s position. 
Just a word about outfits. The canoe 
was an exceedingly light and well built 
sixteen footer, with decked bow and 
stem. One man could carry her with 
ease, though two could perform the stunt 
more easily. Our tent was a small 
“silk,” canoe model. Cooking utensils 
were of aluminium, though plates and 
cups were of “granite iron.” No lip- 
burning aluminium cups for us, thank 
you. We carried a reflecting baker, alu- 
minium, of course, looking towards baked 
trout and bass. We traveled light but 
comfortably. There were three packs: 
tent and bedding; supplies, containing 
our spare clothes, personal kits, etc.; and 
a “kitchen pack.” The latter held the 
food needed for the day. When we 
packed up in the morning we saw to it 
that the cans containing coffee, milk, 
sugar, bacon, etc., were full, then all we 
had to do was to swing that pack on 
shore, knowing that everything required 
to prepare a meal, from a match to camp- 
axe, would be found therein. A long sack 
contained our fly and casting rods, while 
a tin tackle case protected loose tackle, 
both lashed to the canoe, of course. So 
much for outfit, for it is not my purpose 
to spend much time with that important 
subject, though, of course, I shall inad- 
vertently refer to it again and again as I 
work along. Let me mention, however, 
the spare paddle as insurance against 
accident; and the 3 A camera, without 
which no trip a-float or a-shore is com- 
plete. 
I T was the middle of July when a pas- 
senger train dropped us at Cable, a 
station where duck garbed folk cause 
no comment. We found that our canoe 
had not yet arrived, a matter that gave 
us no little concern until we learned that 
it was aboard a freight that was due at 
noon. While waiting for the canoe we 
hunted up a teamster and absorbed in- 
formation, the latter as usual being in- 
accurate and unreliable. We were per- 
suaded that it would be unwise to at- 
tempt to start from Lake Nemekagon, 
owing to the low water in the stream, so 
when the freight arrived bringing the 
canoe safe and sound, we directed the 
teamster to take us to a bridge a mile 
and a half east of Cable, and therefore 
some distance below the lake. At two 
o’clock we were loaded and ready to push 
out upon the river. “You will be spilled 
dozens of times and wreck that egg-shell 
before you reach Hayward,” remarked 
our teamster as I took my place in the 
bow and George prepared to push off. 
Waving him a laughing “good bye,” we 
swung out into the stream and the rapid 
current whirled us around a bend and be- 
yond his sight. 
The upper Nemekagon is a rapid 
stream well sprinkled with boulders, large 
and small. In a low stage of water nav- 
igating the stream anywhere above the 
back-water at Hayward is liable to prove 
disasterous because of shallows and ex- 
posed rocks; however, as that section of 
the river offers the very best trout fish- 
ing — brown and rainbow — the devotee of 
the fuzzy-wuzzy lures will gladly risk his 
canoe. I would not advise anyone to 
start in at Nemekagon Lake, carrying a 
camp outfit. It would be better to ship 
the outfit to Hayward and put up with 
the settlers to be met with along the river, 
though, as I have already intimated, with 
a fair stage of water the trip can be 
made. We made it, but the canoe came 
out bearing the marks of many a contact 
with sharp rocks and stony sand-bars. A 
careful, patient and experienced boatman 
can navigate a canoe “in a dew,” though 
such trips are not for the uninitiated. 
Hardly had we rounded the first bend 
before the lure of the trouty water had 
got in its work on me and I was rigging 
up the little fly-rod. As the afternoon 
shadows lengthened out from the western 
shore, now and then a trout would rise 
to the surface of the dark water, sending 
inviting ripples shoreward. Though I 
