You could visit her one hundred times and never even begin to know the treasures that lie beneath her majestic beauty. It’s no surprise to me that such a beautiful place, with its thick carpet of pine and wandering waterways that separate a seemingly endless collection of towering rock formations under an always-spectacular sky, can lure an angler away from his favorite musky lake forever.

You could visit her one hundred times and never even begin to know the treasures that lie beneath her majestic beauty. She’s a jewel as pure and unspoiled as the falling snow deep within Northwest Ontario’s frozen wooded winter paradise. One hundred trips north is a century of musky fishing if you are like me and venture into Sunset Country once a year in search of the Queen of all beasts prowling the fresh water depths – muskie. It’s no surprise to me that such a beautiful place, with its thick carpet of pine and wandering waterways that separate a seemingly endless collection of towering rock formations under an always-spectacular sky, can lure an angler away from his favorite musky lake forever.

Like a mistress, Dryberry Lake seduced me with her ways. I betrayed the familiar and loyal, a place where I fell in love with muskie hunting and swore – at least in my own heart – to always be true no matter what. I traveled north of the border for a fling that I thought would never last, an infatuation with the unattainable, a rendezvous with a once-in-a-lifetime fantasy world. I was wrong about that though – dead wrong. Her awesome presence and rugged charm stole my heart and I found myself wanting her more and more with every meeting: wanting her with every cast for the rest of my days.

Until I met her, my heart belonged to another. I would, without thought of straying, remain loyal to my one and only true hot spot for more than a decade. I believed that I had it all, but would eventually learn that there is much more to muskie fishing than convenience, comfort, and familiarity.

The moment she came into my life everything changed. Nestled deep within the Canadian Shield, Dryberry Lake is a hidden treasure among many other golden angling opportunities that are much more popular and well publicized – not to mention easy to reach. Her modest twenty-seven thousand acres of gin clear water is forever part of the national forest and therefore protected from becoming too civilized. Dryberry’s solitude isolates her even further. Unlike the popular Lake of the Woods, this lake is not studded with resorts, and it is not easily accessible by a motor vehicle with a boat in tow. In fact, there are only two resorts that I’m aware of on (or with access to) Dryberry Lake and you must bring ALL your gear into camp (in BOTH cases) by boat. One road access is for those who choose to just drop their boat in and fish for the day, but be advised this is a treacherous ride and unforgiving if rain, sleet, or snow glaze the trail.

For those who make the trek, however, Dryberry Lake has it all. Unforgettable muskie fishing is always on the menu and if you pause to pursue other species, lake trout, small mouth bass, and northern pike grow pretty big considering they are always on the menu too – the muskies’ menu, that is.

My fishing partner Pat made it to Dryberry first, hitting the late fall bite with some friends of ours. By the time he got back he would have stories of very strong, sturdy lunge that put all of our south of the border conquests to shame. He said that I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else again. He was right!