Lichen and Saylix were panting under the hot sun. We stopped every hour so that they could eat snow and cool off. The miles slowly ticked by. As the sun's strength began to wain, the dogs picked up their pace, and we headed into Loon Straights.

We were told to look up the Bruces when we got to the small fishing community, with only 4 permanent residents. The Bruces were out splitting wood when we pulled into town. We introduced ourselves and asked if there was a place we could set up our tent for the night. They graciously suggested we stay at their house, and we haven't stopped eating since.

This morning we were up early and were greeted by a table full of eggs, bacon, bannock, and a bottomless pot of coffee. A wet snow that quickly turned to drizzle made us thankful to be inside a warm house instead of packing up a cold, wet tent.

The Bruces have a net set in the bay near their home which supplies them with fresh fish. Edgar checks the net once a week, and he suggested that we hop in the Bomber with him and get a first-hand lesson in raising nets from "the best fisherman on Lake Winnipeg." We heatily accepted his offer and headed outside. After gathering the necessary tubs, ropes, and tools, we climbed in their 1956 Bomber and headed several miles out to the net.

After the wood was split, we decided that the day would be better spent in Loon Straights and the eating continued. Doreen agreed to teach us how to make Bannock. First we watched her make a bannock, then Eric tried his hand a making a bannock, and finally it was my turn to try. She looked on, giving me pointers. She never measures the ingredients, but goes by sight, feel, and even sound. Bannock requires a precise "glug,glug" of oil into the mixture. Doreene pointed out lumps in the dough that needed to be smushed. After baking the bannocks, we reluctanly had to delve into the ardous task of taste-testing each bannock, smearing it in margarine and jam to make sure it met our high standards.

Soon a supper of fried pickeral, "walleye", and perch, potatoes, bannock, and fruit salad. We ate and ate. The Bruces joked about how, in the morning, Frosty and I would travel a mile down the lake, set up camp, and spend the day digesting all of the food we have been eating.

The Bruces have been super, and we have throughly enjoyed spending a day with them, learning a few of the skills necessary to live in the bush, and getting a glimpse at life in this remote fishing community.