Saskatchewan Smackdown (2024)

Remote Canadian lodge steeps in angling ambience

Each night I fell asleep to the sound of baying wolves. In a shallow creek, my guide would not let me leave the boat and wade ashore for fear of grizzly bear encounters. My cell phone had zero bars, and yet, I’ve never felt more comfortably embraced and deeply engaged than I did during my soul-stirring sojourn at a modest fishing lodge nestled amid Northern Saskatchewan’s verdant landscape. Far too many suns have set since Pat Babco*ck welcomed me at the dock fronting his Cree River Lodge. But if l close my eyes and indulge those crisp memories—the kind that make you stop your work day to scroll through pictures—it’s like I’m right there in the moment, at that place of places.

I can smell the unspoiled air. I can feel the chilly, yet calming waters and the arm-stretching tugs that test tackle and resolve. I’d return in an instant if time and opportunity could ever intersect. But if my life holds but one trip to Northern Saskatchewan’s pike paradise, it truly was the trip of a lifetime—and one I’d recommend without a hint of hesitation.

Magic Moments

So, what makes a good travel story? A travel story, I believe. Less of the “you can…” and “you should try…” stuff and more of what made you forever thankful you took the trip.

What made your heart leap like a prom night kiss? What made your mind marvel like the first time you watched Star Wars? What kept you awake at night replaying the day’s images while yearning for another’s dawning?

For me, the vivid images are rooted in a region equal­ly rich with seemingly boundless boreal forests, diverse wildlife, and mining history overlapping the allure and the lore of well-traveled fur trade routes.

While the province’s lower plains sweep with broad grasslands, the upper end boldly postures the Canadian Shield’s rocky emergence.

Here, at the northwest side of Wapata Lake, Babco*ck has operated Cree River Lodge since 2008. Having grown up around his grandparents’ Deception Lake Lodge, the former cattle farmer and oil field trucker understands what matters to folks who jour­ney to such a location: comfortable accommodations, belly-warming meals, as much peace and quiet as you’d like, and lots of fish.

“It’s all part of being a small lodge,” Babco*ck said. “I don’t just get to shake your hand once a day; the staff and I have the luxury of being able to spend real time with all of our guests. We get to learn about what matters to you and be part of that. That’s what’s really unforgettable.”

When good fortune led me to Cree River Lodge, that simple formula was on full display. Here’s a look at the highlights.

Rod-Bending Revelry

With eagles and ospreys watching from above and bears of black and brown fur occasionally peaking from the forest, Wapata Lake bulges around the Cree River’s flow. Here a fish-friendly mix of deep structure, shallow vegetation, and numerous pockets and tributaries hold abundant forage, which keeps the locals well fed. With minimal traffic, this truly is a place you could fish all day without seeing another boat.

Northern pike headline the show, and the raging beast that dwells within that deceptively soft body inspires awe in the hearts of anglers begrudging a trip’s conclusion. Seasoned pike hunters say 40-plus inches define the trophy mark and, in four days, my group of three anglers boated at least 15 touching that mark. I was blessed with a pair of trophies—a 40 and a 46, along with nearly two dozen in the 24- to 37-inch range.

These fish are not shy. In fact, we twice saw pike of monstrous proportions T-bone hooked walleye a rod length from the boat. Like gilled gators, the giant pike would grab our walleye, lazily swim with their prey perpendicular across their jaw until ultimately losing interest in the close-range tug-of-war. Natural baits are an easy sell, but artificials enable you to quickly cover water and find those active areas. In the lake and the river, we nabbed our pike with a wide array of lures. Here’s a brief recap.

Bay Blast

After a lazy lunch on a tranquil shoreline, we spent the day’s remainder in a broad, round bay lined with pencil reeds and pads. The inner areas comprised a smattering of troughs and flats, sprouted with the water cabbage that Babco*ck termed big-pike habitat.

“That cabbage holds a lot of the food that these big pike eat,” he said. “They’ll lay in that cabbage and wait for something to swim by. You want to stay alert every time you pass some of that cabbage.”

As we crisscrossed the bay, we picked off respectable pike here and there. Admittedly, I had already become a little spoiled with the day’s hefty fish, so I asked Babco*ck ifl should switch back to the spoon. Noting the wisdom of hunting giant pike deeper into these tucked-away spots, he advised me to stick with the spinnerbait.

It was certainly a good call, as 15 minutes later, I watched 46 inches of too-big-to-care fury blast from a water cabbage hidey-hole and gobble my spinnerbait maybe a dozen feet from the boat.

I won’t lie, the sight of massive jaws flaring and snapping around my bait gave me buck fever, and it took nearly losing the rod to a slimy missile for my mind to process what I’d seen in time to assume fighting posture.

It’s hard to imagine topping that personal best, but Babco*ck says titans of SO-plus swim those Saskatchewan waters. He holds big fish boat-side and measures them against a wooden oar marked to 60 inches. All giants promptly return to their nurturing habitat.

Later in the trip, I’d see big pike caught on smaller plastic-body swimbaits, shallow-diving crankbaits and big topwater plugs. Other boats reported catching big pike on topwater frogs walked through shallow reeds.

Unlikely Drama

The gem of our big pike trip was an unassuming little offshoot Babco*ck called “Gas Can Creek.”You won’t find it on a chart, because we named it as Babco*ck dropped off plane to refuel from his backup container.

The creek bent sharply inward, with the usual rocky banks and a large stand of pads sprouting from a shallow flat on the opening’s outside edge. This, Babco*ck explained, was the ideal scenario for finding a “gatekeeper”—a large, dominant pike patrolling the entrance.

Once we reached casting range, Quinn launched a weedless spoon with a grub tail while I stuck with my spinnerbait. The spoon found a taker, but the fish escaped into the weeds. We made a few follow-up shots, but as Babco*ck explained, sticking the gatekeeper usually cools the aggression for longer than you’d want to wait.

Pushing into the creek, we boated a pair of smaller pike, but when Quinn’s spoon passed the far edge of a lily pad stand, a 45-incher blasted the polished metal. A blur of ferocity thrashed, rolled, and ripped up half of the stems before finally sliding into the net.

Pretty cool, but the crazy train was about to leave the station. After photographing Quinn’s biggest catch, I stood on the bow, arms folded with a rod tip sloped toward the water. As we relived the moment,
I felt a tug that I quickly realized was not a vegetation snag.

A near-trophy pike had awkwardly grabbed my dan­gling spinnerbait as it tickled the surface. My sudden shifting caused the fish to temporarily break off the attack. But when I fed back 3 feet of line and twitched my spinnerbait, the fish burst forth from the depths and blazed a trail down that narrow creek before I worked the 35-incher into the net.

Other Species

Complementing the region’s astounding pike action, walleye filets are the star of Cree River shore lunches. (Pike of the “eater” size also delight.) Hard baits cast or trolled will bring plenty of walleye to the boat, but parking over promising structure and vertically jigging allows you time to visually bathe in the Saskatchewan ambiance between bites.

By far, one of the most stunning fish in Canadian waters has earned an ignominious moniker, starkly contrasting a stoic beauty that simply must be seen to appreciate. Pragmatically, the nickname “snot rocket” fairly suits the arctic grayling—a smaller member of the salmonoid clan known for a heavy mucous coating and dazzling skyward leaps.

Those fortunate enough to enjoy a close look are more likely to use terms like admirable, exquisite, or elegant. Their grayish-to-brownish bodies are pep­pered by random black flecks. Purple back hues complement silver or golden flashes on the sides. They have golden eyes and streaks of reddish-orange on the pelvic fins, as well as a magnificent sail-like dorsal fin bordered in red and adorned with iridescent aqua or purple markings. These creatures shimmer like jewels beneath the water’s surface.

One morning, when we turned our focus to grayling, Babco*ck took us to one of his favorite river bends and used his jet drive to hold strategic position. The water rolled at such a pace that whenever I’d cast a spinner upstream, I’d have to reel like mad just to stay tight. Impressively, when a grayling wanted the bait, the fish had no trouble catching it.

To maximize the grayling experience, I recommend breaking out the lightweight fly gear and enjoying the show. Multi-piece travel rods are a good bet for fly-in trips, but anything in the 4- to 5-weight range with floating line will do the trick.

Summer’s insect hatch buffet can deliver pure dry fly bliss, and when the bite is on, the water boils with feeding fish. Grayling are particularly bold, especially in remote areas, so expect furious action with a variety of baits, which should probably include small spoons and 1/32-ounce white tube jigs.

You’ll pick up a few whitefish along the way, and while Babco*ck opted to release our grayling, the more utilitarian whitefish makes a fine shore lunch addition. With the exception of long-distance trips to the tro­phy pike waters, guides typically take a midday break to build a campfire and fry fresh walleye and pike filets in lard-filled skillets set atop cooking grates.

If anyone keeps a whitefish, the crew might treat you to an authentic First Nations-style prepara­tion-cleaned and butterflied, then skewered with a local branch and leaned against the cooking grate for a smoky, fire-roasted flavor. Fried potatoes, baked beans and lung-cleansing fresh air earned a top-five spot on my Memorable Meal list.

Each afternoon, after the guide boats had tied off, someone would make a few casts off the dock. More than once, I watched respectable pike caught within shouting distance.

Whether you’re enjoying the waterside perch, the central campfire, or a chair set to take in the Northern Lights in the spring or late summer while gazing across Wapata Lake, the Cree River Lodge defines relaxation. When the days unfold as mine did, you’ll appreciate the rest.

If You Go

International and domestic travelers fly into Saskatoon John G. Diefenbaker International Airport and then hop a commuter flight to Stony Rapids, where a sign stating “North of 59” reminds you how far into the wilderness you’ve trav­eled. (Cree River Lodge is located about 50 miles south of the Northwest Territo­ries boundary.)

For fly-ins, Cree River Lodge uses charter service based out of Edmonton, Alberta, that usually has guests at the dock by 8:30 a.m., so every day is a full day of fishing.

To plan a trip, visit: creeriverlodge.ca