There’s a certain romance to heading north, away from the sprawling concrete of southern, Ontario, and into the wilderness. The drive to Lake Nipigon, a trip not for the faint of heart or the impatient, is a pilgrimage for anglers in search of something wild, untamed, and perhaps even transformational. As usual, my good Friend Nick, and my Dad would be my cohorts for the week.
From Toronto, the drive takes you through cities like Sudbury, Sault Ste. Marie, and just shy of Thunder Bay—a rolling parade of Canada’s northern charm, if you haven't experienced the drive along the north shore of Lake Superior, you're missing out. It’s a long haul, roughly 16 hours in total, but the kilometers don’t matter when you’re chasing adventure. By the time you reach the lake, you’re in another world entirely.
We launched at South Bay, eager and perhaps a bit overzealous. My boat was loaded to the gunwales: hundreds of liters of gas, enough batteries to power multiple boats, camping gear, rods, reels, lures and flies. The boat struggled to get on plane, laboring under the weight of our ambitions. But as we pushed out onto the vast, uncharted waters of Lake Nipigon, the excitement of what lay ahead outweighed any logistical headaches.
Running the Lake: A Test of Wits
Lake Nipigon is a lake of giants—in its fish and its sheer size. The charts are vague, only the shoreline is mapped, leaving you to navigate by instinct, landmarks, and luck. We ran for over an hour, covering only a few kilometers, before deciding we had to lighten the load. We stashed our extra gas and batteries on a remote island, noting the location with my GPS and a few haphazard landmarks. The priority was reaching camp before sunset, and with the boat finally on plane, we made it just in time to set up and rest for the night.
The next morning brought rougher conditions and a 3-hour round trip to retrieve the stashed supplies. The wind had picked up, slapping the water into whitecaps that sent spray over the bow. It was hard work, but the promise of the fishing ahead kept our spirits high.
The First Fish
When we finally wet our lines, it didn’t take long to find what we’d come for. Nick hooked into a giant pike—a 45-inch, nearly 30-pound monster, the biggest pike I've ever had the pleasure to land. Moments before, he’d noticed perch trailing his pike fly and switched to a perch pattern. On the very next cast, he struck gold. It was the kind of fish that makes the trip worthwhile in an instant, but it was only the beginning.
That first afternoon, we landed four fish over 40 inches and dozens more in the upper 30s. Each cast felt like a shot at another trophy, and the unrelenting action left us grinning.
Camp Life and Epic Fishing
Our days settled into a rhythm: wake up leisurely, sip coffee while the morning mist burned off the water, and hit the bite when it turned on around mid morning. The afternoons were punctuated with shore lunches of fresh walleye and smaller pike, fried to perfection over a campfire. These meals, paired with the backdrop of Lake Nipigon’s untouched wilderness, felt like pure luxury.
One standout day took us to an unnamed bay we had fished in years past, where we found massive cabbage beds teeming with fish. It rained steadily, soaking us to the bone, but the fishing was too good to stop. Topwater poppers and subsurface streamers drew strikes on nearly every cast, and by day’s end, we’d brought over 100 fish to the boat. We were drenched, exhausted, and deliriously happy, our smiles lasting all the way back to camp.
That evening, Nick cooked up a hearty pasta dish, and we warmed ourselves by the fire with good bourbon and even better conversation. It’s in those moments—when the day’s triumphs are shared over a meal, and the laughter echoes into the night—that a fishing trip becomes something more.
For the Soul
A week on Lake Nipigon does something to you. It strips away the noise and the clutter of daily life, leaving you with the essentials: family, friends, and the thrill of discovery. For me, sharing this experience with my dad and a great friend was as rewarding as the fishing itself.
By the time we packed up camp, we were already planning our return in 2025. Lake Nipigon is a special place, a true wilderness that offers world-class fishing at a price that feels almost unfair. The fish don’t get more plentiful, and they certainly don’t get any bigger.
If you’re willing to make the journey, you’ll find not just incredible fishing but a sense of connection—to nature, to your companions, and to yourself. And that, I think, is why we keep coming back.
Matt Martin
Photos- @salmopgrapher and @smoothriverguiding
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