They all agreed it had been a great trip; lot's of fish, and although the Northerns had been a little spooky, the walleye jigging was incredibly productive. That said, their last full day on the water, would turn out to be a day none would ever forget.

Friday, May 25, 2007
7:00 a.m. Over breakfast they had decided on an impromptu walleye derby to closeout the week. Within the hour, each two man team was on the water intent on being the tournament champions. Tom and Ken were well east of the cabin and a long way from any of the other boats. Oddly, they noticed the growing smell of smoke in the air.

"It was mid-morning and we were too far away from the outpost to be smelling remnants of that morning's cooking fire. Not only that, but within the course of 20 minutes or less, the smell went from barely detectable to a haze rolling out over the lake. Then came the fly-ash; hissing as it hit the water's surface."

10:30 a.m. First they heard and then saw the approaching floatplane. The pilot was obviously trying to get their attention as he circled overhead, dipping his wings.

Tom recalled, "The plane headed back toward camp and with the smoke getting thicker we started the outboard. As we rounded the island we could see a flurry of activity as guys were throwing bags into the docked plane while others hauled gear out of camp."

The air was now so thick with smoke, that taking off and flying back to the lodge held its own dangers. With the raging forest fire getting closer, the intense heat was creating strong wind blasts that buffeted the small plane as it rose off the lake and gained altitude.

12:00 Noon: Pulling up to the dock, the scene at the lodge was one of controlled chaos. There were 3 forest service helicopters and two water tankers on site. A dozen firefighters in their orange jump suits, worked side by side with the outfitter's staff hosing down roofs and floating anything burnable, including fuel containers, out into the lake. Tom's group of 8 plus another dozen guests were encouraged to just stay out of the way. Smoke was everywhere and an orange haze hung on the skyline.

1:30 p.m. With a tank truck in the lead and one at the rear the 20 vehicle convoy pulled out of Berthelot but instead of heading west toward Senneterre and civilization, they headed east, deeper into the bush, but away from the fire.

2:30 p.m. After an hour on the road, the caravan stopped at the remains of a large resort that had burned to the ground in a previous fire, "We stopped and the fire service guys passed out some sandwiches and water. The feeling was very eerie with the charred ruins making us ever more aware of our predicament. Then the order was given to once again move-out"

3:30 p.m. One after another the trucks and cars pulled into a logging camp complete with dormitory trailers and cafeteria. Out of immediate danger, the group was instructed to get some rest but not to unpack so as to be ready to move again in a hurry. Here the smoke was less intense but as the afternoon waned, the orange glow on the horizon became more evident.

9:00 p.m. It was almost dark when the order went out that we were going to make a run for it back toward Senneterre. The helicopters had detected a break in the fire and thought that we could possibly exploit, but we had to go now!

10:00 p.m. Traveling now in the dark, it wasn't long before fire illuminated both sides of the road. Tom's truck was second in the line behind the lead tanker.

"It was getting a little scary as we could now see pine trees literally exploding into flames as we passed. Then all of a sudden a huge tree, all ablaze fell across the road."

Quickly, the tanker crews sprayed the tree down and with chain saws cleared the way.

10:30 p.m. The convoy eased to a stop amidst the intense heat and smoke, a fire marshal made his way down the line of vehicles stopping to instruct each driver.

"This is the worst stretch. We have got about a half a kilometer of fire on the road. Drive in the middle and go as fast as you can. If you slow down or stop your tires will catch fire."

With that warning they headed into the "hot spot". Temperatures inside the vehicles became nearly unbearable, there was fire everywhere. Thirty vehicles, nose to tail raced at speeds exceeding 50 mph. White knuckled fingers grabbed steering wheels, eyes peered thru the smoke trying to focus on the tail lights of the vehicle ahead.

11:00 p.m. As quickly as they had entered the inferno; they soon found themselves coming out the other side. Within the span of a mile, the worst was behind them. They continued to move steadily west at a somewhat safer speed on the rough gravel road.

12:00 midnight. They were back on paved roads and with no motels open, the weary group of New York fisherman headed south toward the border. Berthelot Lake Lodge miraculously survived the fire unscathed. It was determined that a railroad crew working on the line had inadvertently started the blaze while using a welding torch. Tom and his friends are rebooked at Berthelot for next spring but hoping that their favorite walleye hot spot isn't quite so hot next time around.