At this NWT pike lodge the monsters are real—and you’re guaranteed to catch one

On our second day, Luca took us to several of his prime hot spots near the lodge, places we would intermittently return to over the balance of the week—Matheson’s, Lower Lobstick, Upper Lobstick, Wrigley and, again, The In-Between. And as with much of the week, the topsy turvy weather served up sporadic bouts of rain and line-catching gusts of wind, making my fly-fishing campaign that much more of a challenge. If anything, the conditions served as a solid reminder of why you must always pack layers, quality raingear and dry footwear when fishing in Canada’s north country, even in July.

For the most part, I was casting one of John’s creations, a Clouser Minnow adorned with a tiny Dardevle spinner blade from Dearborn, Michigan’s Eppinger Manufacturing, where John works as the marketing manager. While his RoadRunner Clouser produced fish after fish—I honestly lost count—I still hadn’t boated a 40-incher or better by the time we motored back to the lodge that evening.

It was during our third morning on the water that I finally knew I wouldn’t be getting a free return trip  to Brabant Lodge. We were back at Beaver Lake, working the cabbage line, when I surpassed the 40-inch mark by hooking into and boating a 44¼-inch beauty. The funny thing is, I had just put down my 9-weight and picked up a camp spinning outfit armed with a shad-coloured Cop-E-Cat spoon, courtesy of John’s back-up stash of Eppinger lures. With my tennis elbow kicking in, compounded by the dual frustrations of wind and thick weeds, I had only wanted a short break from fly casting—topping 40 inches in the process was simply a lucky bonus.

While I was finally on the board with a fish in the forties, I still had my work cut out for me, though, if I hoped to do even better on my fly rod. Back at the lodge that night, John and I compared notes with David Park, now joined by fellow fishing content creator and influencer Nathan Speltz. He had just arrived that morning after missing the original floatplane ride to the lodge, and promptly started making up for lost time with David. They’d spent the day hammering 40-inch-plus fish at Pointe Desmarais, out at the edge of the open expanse of Great Slave where David had caught his giants at the beginning of the week.

Twice over the following two days, Luca, John and I also made the 15-kilometre run out to Desmarais. Based on how David, Nathan and the other guests at the lodge were faring, baitcasters and sizeable lures were clearly the most effective option for consistently catching numbers of big pike at Brabant. By the time they left, for example, fishing buddies Craig Thompton and Bob Boldt from Illinois had boated more than 40 fish measuring 40 inches or better. Nonetheless, John and I stuck to our fly program, and Desmarais rewarded us accordingly.

On our first morning there, I quickly came close to surpassing my 45.5-inch PB on the fly with a girthy 44.7-inch specimen, followed by a 42.9-incher. John also notched up several 40-inch-plus pike, and we both caught no end of fish in the high thirties—at least when we didn’t spot them in time to pull away our flies. Yes, you know the fishing is that good when you try not to catch a pike you’d be happy to tackle back home in the south of Canada.