On this particular trip, we were fishing for lake trout and northern pike in late July on Charles Lake near the Northwest Territories border. In the first few days, we had some success with lake trout - Keith caught a 22 pounder the first trip out of camp. We had also caught the occasional large pike. But most of the fishing was hit and miss - no particular honey holes to capture the imagination - and that was part of the adventure, exploring the lake to find the elusive honey hole.

On our fourth day, we checked out a long arm of the lake that extended into the boreal forest of jack pine, black spruce and rock. We investigated one particularly large, shallow bay that looked promising for pike. Sure enough, at the edge of the deep water, Joanne hooked into a large one that gave her quite a battle. She finally got it to the boat and it weighed 15 pounds. After the requisite photograph, she quickly released it. It wasn't long before we were all hooking up with large pike. Poles were bent double, and smaller pike were quickly released to help boat partners with larger fish.

We'd found our honey hole. The fish were striking hard and fast at just about anything that was big and flashy. Knowing this was a treasure to be preserved and cherished, we took extra precautions to make sure all the fish were released as unharmed as possible. We quickly learned that landing nets were not appropriate for these fish that were running between 12 and 20 pounds. Once in the net, they would quickly twist and turn and make their extraction very difficult, further stressing the fish. The net also threatened the fish by removing the mucous layer that protects them from infection. We realized the best release was one in the water where handling was minimized.

After a couple of hours, we'd had enough and beached the boats on a rocky peninsula to make our shore lunch of some lake trout we had caught earlier that morning. The delicate taste of the fast-fried filets mixed with the perfect weather, good company and the satisfying fatigue from a great morning of fishing could not be matched anywhere.

Once rested, we returned to our boats and again tried our luck at the honey hole. The pike were still there, and we caught a few, but they weren't biting at the same frenzied pace. We fished the spot for less than an hour before turning our boats for the long trip back to camp. That evening over another meal of fresh pike and trout fillets, we praised the honey hole and the fighting tenacity of the northern pike, a truly legendary predator.

The following couple of days we made some trips back to that hole. We caught some pike but not like we'd done the first time. Most of the fish had either moved on to other places to feed or we had just caught them at a particularly opportune moment that first time. Perhaps that's what honey holes are really all about - being at the right place at the right time. And maybe that's what makes them special - true legends that only come along once in a lifetime.