Old Salt wrote on Feb 11^th, 2017 at 3:24pm:

Welcome aboard!! Mike, we welcome you to QJ. 8-) I hope you will share more about your experiences. We have folks here who are epic explorers. You will find them engaging. Looking forward to hearing more. 8-) We have some other fishing first guys here, including myself. I hope you will share your experiences and learnings about fishing. Join at the inukshuk level to get all of the perks offered here.  ;)

Another kindred spirit, thanks for the welcome! I have plenty of stories old salt (my kids call me Grandpa Simpson  :) )

One time on a solo trip down the Winisk 3 polar bears wandered into my camp in the middle of the night and started rummaging through my gear. They were between me and my boat and they knew darned well I was there. I slipped my shoes on and when they seemed preoccupied I went out the back vestibule and ran upstream as fast as I could propelled by sheer terror. I had passed a native shack the day before and hoped to make it there without being pulled down.
The shack was boarded up like fort knox with heavy plywood with nails sticking out over every window and door. In a panic I jumped up, grabbed the eave and dead lifted myself up to the roof. Moments later all 3 bears strolled into camp eyeing me like their last meal. I was stuck on that roof for 21/2 days with no food or water - the bears wouldn't leave. Just as I was about to make a desperation move 2 natives in a freighter came downstream and stopped. At the time there was 2 of the bears milling around the cabin. They looked at me, looked at the bears, then burst out laughing LOL! One of them pulled a rifle out, fired a couple of shots to scare the bears away and I was saved. Amazingly nothing of note was destroyed at my camp other than my frying pan and pot which had multiple bite marks all over them. The natives gave me their frying pan, I packed up and was on my way again. Really weak, but none the worse for the wear.
After that I paddled up the Frog River (a trib of the Winisk) to its headwaters then portaged overland several miles over swampy muskeg to the Fawn River. THAT was tough in my condition! I had to camp one night before reaching the Fawn. With no place to pitch a tent I remember lying in my canoe with my fly draped overhead trying to sleep while being swarmed by 10 billion mosquitos. Good times. 

Like I said, lots of stories.  ;)