Wilderness is truly a generational gift

A piece of wooded land playing home to whitetail deer, black bear, wolves and other wilderness critters can never be valued by simply tossing out a figure of dollars and cents.

The parcel could be anywhere from an acre to several hundred, stashed far enough away from noise and smelly fumes to make almost anyone feel like a pioneer.

That's how it was for me with my little slice of heaven on Minnesota's Gunflint Trail. My access to Lake Sagagna brought me countless hours of lake trout and smallmouth excitement. And the widescreen vistas of moose that stopped by to lick the block of salt I placed near the side of the cabin didn't need any popcorn.

That spot in Eden is long gone, as is the property along the Peshtigo River near Crivitz, Wis. But to this day I can still imagine the scream of the eagles calling out to their brethren while diving on walleye holding in the shallows.

Some of you are fortunate to have received the gift of the far north as part of a living inheritance. Some of you are holding on to those ramshackle cottages just feet from a lake. And maybe you and another family member pooled some dollars and revived the old place so future members of the clan could enjoy what you have now.

And spectacles of life sit at just about every turn of the river.

I saw my first mink as I sat quietly in an old rowboat on the Peshtigo. I carefully watched as a large pack of wolves ran along a sandy shoreline as my boat cruised by on some lake in northern Quebec.

A cow moose and its newborn stood in the shallows of a northern Manitoba river, munching a breakfast of lily pads and wild rice chutes.

The No-Name River was so clear that I could see grayling near bottom at around 30 feet. And when the dry fly skittered its way across the surface in the current, those freshwater acrobats performed their magic aerial routines once they sucked in the fly. I was honored to stand on a rocky shoreline that may have seen French soldiers defending themselves from natives objecting to the white man's intrusions.

Wander the Apple River Canyon area in Illinois for a while and talk to the people who take deer for the table every season, as well as supping on deep-fried wild turkey, all from the hill country bestowed on those souls lucky enough to greet nature every morning.

I get teased a lot by readers and some radio show listeners that I get to travel and fish in a lot of wild and exotic places. Well, that's exaggerating a bit, because I would truly love to have a place on a river again, like we did many years ago, just so I could enjoy the remoteness a bit.

I would also make sure my three daughters would take it over some day so they could understand how truly wonderful it is to experience the call of the wild.

Ÿ Contact Mike Jackson at angler88@comcast.net, and catch his radio show 6-7 a.m. Sundays on WSBC 1240-AM.