Paddle Potboilers

The dictionary defines a potboiler as a short, quickly put together literary work of poor quality for purpose of sales and making money. I couldn't have asked for a better definition for this page. With the bulk of our creativity going into the paddles, there is not much left over, but this is where we decided to put it. Below are some short stories of experiences we have had that relate to canoes, paddling, water, fishing, etc. Feel free to browse through some of our experiences and if you have a funny or interesting story that would fit this mold, please email it to us at info@holzcanoepaddles.com and we will post it on this page.

"Boat Blunders"

Posted June 25, 2007 by Joe Holz

One early spring day about 5 years ago, my buddy Nick and I wanted to hit the mighty Mississippi River for the Walleye run along the WI/MN border. We happened to pick a very cold day for our first adventure fishing this area and this river. All of the lakes were still frozen, but the flowing water and heavy barge traffic on the Mississippi kept the water open.

My fishing boat is very adequate for my purposes. However, it is not a site for sore eyes by any means, what with the faded carpet, scratches on the side, and the “after market” alterations I have made to fit my purposes. We launched the boat around 7am and it went down hill from there.

First, the extreme cold temperatures which hovered around freezing made the motor on my boat less than excited to start. After one or two tough pulls, the string became wrapped up in the recoil assembly and could not be pulled. I removed the motor cover, but was unable to get to the parts I needed. Luckily, another person at the launch had some tools and I was able to get to the assembly.

Upon opening the assembly, the recoil spring totally unwound and snapped leaving it useless. After driving that distance to fish, we decided to give it a go with the emergency pull string. We headed up stream, cover off, motor growling and smoking, to the bait shop.

I pulled up to the dock at the bait shop and tied the boat up. We both got out and as we did, a small tackle box fell onto the foot pedal of the trolling motor, which happened to be plugged. The bow mount trolling motor took off, but the only problem was it was in the up position, quickly snapping both blades of the prop off. This left us with a slow starting, emergency pull string motor and no trolling motor.

Finally, we arrived at the fishing grounds in our loud, smoky, and shoddy looking vessel to find what seemed like hundreds of very expensive, new boats jockeying for position in the current. We quickly realized a controlled drift with the current and vertical jigging was the best tactic. The unfortunate part was a controlled drift is impossible and quickly becomes uncontrolled chaos with no trolling motor and an outboard that has to have the emergency string manually wrapped around it to hopefully start on the first pull.

I spent half the very stressful day trying to get the boat started before drifting into one very expensive insurance claim after another. The motor did not always start on the first pull, but disaster was narrowly averted several times. We did, however, catch a few Walleye and Sauger so the trip wasn’t completely a waste. Plus, we have a story to tell and remember.

"Steamed Pike"

Posted June 25, 2007 by Joe Holz

On a winter version of our annual and sometimes bi-annual Death Trip a few years ago, we learned a difficult, but valuable lesson on fish cleaning and preparation. There were several of us on this particular trip and we decided to head out to a lake that is known to have excellent Northern Pike action, with some of size. Also, since there were 5 of us on this particular trip we wanted to keep enough fish to have a decent fish fry that night.

We started fishing late morning since we tend to struggle leaving the cabin early after a night of cards. The action was good early with several "eater sized" Pike on the ice by early afternoon. The action then cooled dramatically, but we were determined to stay out until dusk. We then packed up our shanty, gear, and gathered our several fish-cicles.

Now, if you have ever ice fished and cleaned frozen fish, you know it is a difficult and painful task to grip and clean frozen flesh. Also, if you have ever cleaned Northern Pike, especially ones that have been frozen, you know they are ridiculously slimy, horribly smelly, and difficult to clean. So, while we started cocktail hour, we got the bright idea of putting the fish in bath tub and running the cold water on them for a few minutes to thaw. That's when things went down hill.

As we started to play poker, somehow we forgot about the fish. Strike 2 was the fact that somehow, the tub faucet accidentally as set on hot rather than cold. After about an hour someone finally had to use the bathroom. This unlucky soul was greeted to a Pike steamer in the face. The entire bathroom and eventually the entire cabin was filled with the unpleasant odor of hot, steamy Pike musk. The smell was nauseating, but eventually dissipated as we opened all the doors and windows in the cabin. Enduring the cold was easier than the smell. The slime on the pike and bathtub proved more difficult to deal with. While I filleted oozing pike, a few others tried their hand at washing a slick bathtub covered with a nice layer of Pike goo. In the end, the Pike were cleaned and since they were frozen solid, the hour of hot water did not ruin the meat. We ate then and had a good feast, and the tub eventually came clean, although, the short straw had to shower with residue still squishing between his toes.

"Camp Cookin'"

Posted June 18, 2007 by Joe Holz

Recently completing our 10 year anniversary of the inaugural Death Trip a couple weeks ago, we started reminiscing about previous trips. A common theme of unfortunate mishaps have come to the forefront having to do with our food preparation and cooking skills (or lack there of). Being the oldest and the founder of the Death Trips, I am the primary chef on these trips with my #1 backup, Drew. Now, we are no slouches around the campfire when it comes to cooking, but when quantity takes precedence over quality, with up to 8 guys eating, we have had our share of "learning experiences". Over the past 10 years, we have learned:

• Pack and Use Proper Cooking Utensils - The goal was to cook an easy, filling meal for 5 guys. Shouldn't be a big deal. We had 3 family sized cans of baked beans and a pack of hotdog's. With no one that enjoys doing dishes, we decided to make one large pot of bean/dog mixture. Pretty standard. However, it wasn't until after having all the beans and dogs in the pot that we realized we did not have a cooking utensil long enough to stir it all the way to the bottom. We searched, found, and used the first thing that would "work" . . . a fillet knife sitting on the picnic table. Needless to say, a fillet knife is not the weapon of choice to properly stir beans or anything that is soft. By the time the meal was heated properly it was hotdog and bean slurry. It tasted fine, but with 5 guys eating 3 family sized cans of beans that were already half way digested and then sleeping in 1 tent, there were issues.
• Always Guard the Soap - Let's face it, camp cooking is rarely "sanitary", but the small bottle of anti-bacterial dish soap is our best defense and quickest way to wash up at camp. One year, Dan made the mistake of bringing his new sling shot on the trip. Russ, who no longer attends our trips by popular demand, loved this sling shot. While all of us worked, he worked on his aim by shooting irregular shaped stones through the campsite. We would hear them whiz through the air and bounce off the large pine trees, all the while hoping they did not hit us or the gear. Russ was far from a marksman, especially with the ammunition he had chosen, so when he said "Watch me bust the top off that soap bottle!" from the other side of the campsite, we got out of the way and figured we'd have a good laugh. To our amazement, and later bitterness, he actually did it. He hit the top and broke the lid right off. As I recall, the rest of the week we had to wash our fish fillets, veggies, etc. in highly concentrated liquid dish soap as it continually found a way to fall into whatever we were washing. One thing that can quickly ruin a fish fry of freshly caught yellow perch is lemon scented dish soap. Thanks Russ!
• Proper Preparation of a Parking Lot Feast - Being a large group of young, hungry guys, we rarely planned week long trips or even day trips thoroughly enough to remember everything we needed. On a day trip to the small trout lake, discussed in other entries, we headed back to the cars for some lunch. We were all very hungry from a long morning of paddling, which came back to haunt us the rest of the meal. In our hunger induced hast, we decided to grill the large party pack of bratwurst's we had in the cooler. The list of things we forgot ranged from a stove and pot to boil them in to planning ahead enough to make sure the brats were thawed. Since it was dry we did not want to start a fire in the woods without a proper fire ring and since we did not want to make a proper fire ring, we started a fire on the asphalt parking lot. Again, being hungry, we did not let the coals burn down very far before we propped the grill onto three rocks on the outside of the fire, then immediately threw the 15 brats onto the grill figuring the flames would quickly defrost them. With the asphalt induced flames engulfing our frozen brats, we quickly had totally black links of meat that split open revealing their frozen pink insides. Brats will forever be now called blood links in honor of our stupidity.
• How to Make Low Grade Carpenters Glue - On an early Death Trip that spanned roughly 3 weeks with two groups that overlapped a few days lead to two incidents. After a long day of musky fishing, we came back to camp for a large pasta feast of spaghetti and canned sauce. The second half of our group was going to arrive that night and we were certain they would be hungry by the time the arrived so we planned to make enough for them as well. I boiled several pounds of noodles and thoroughly heated a few jars of sauce for meal. It was great. The 4 of us that were there at the time had a royal feast that was very tasty. However, the rest of the group was not there yet, but had called and were only a little ways out. We decided to leave the noodles in the water to stay hot for the other guys. I do not recommend this. By the time they arrived the large kettle of noodles and water was now a large kettle of a disgusting glob of gluey noodles. Not only was the food bad, but the glue it had created was a nightmare to clean. Luckily, being the chef, I am exempt from dish duty. Sorry guys!
• Patience is a Virtue - During the later days of the same trip discussed in the above, Dan was cooking blood links (brats) for himself, Garrett, and Russ. Garrett and Russ, at this point in their lives, had insatiable appetites, so it doesn't need to be explained that they were always hungry. With Dan being a seasoned camping veteran, he realized that any type of meat that has been in a cooler for several days, especially pork, needs to be cooked thoroughly before eating. To speed up the cooking process though, Dan decided not to boil the brats ahead of time and put the right on the fire. Despite several warnings, the tape worms in Garrett and Russ's stomachs won out and they downed their brats a few minutes before Dan. During the night, both Garrett and Russ were abruptly awoken and had to leave the tent because their brats were leaving them. Russ was even a rookie at puking and had to ask Dan and Garrett how! Luckily, they made it out of the tent, but the morning light revealed just how far.
• Always Read the Label - On early versions of the annual northern retreat, grocery shopping was a way to calm the nerves of excitement a couple days before we left. The entire group would pile into the vehicles and head to the cheapest grocery store within a 25 mile radius. Bulk and price were key, so we always looked for the cheapest, largest containers of food. With a large group and little cooler space, canned veggies were the bulk of the vegetable intake for the week. Peas, corn, green beans, etc. were the top choices with several cans of each. On this particular trip, our patience of shopping was wearing thin. We had nearly completed the list except for the canned veggies. As we hastily hit the canned food isle, we loaded the various varieties into the cart. It wasn't until the last day of the trip that we realized our error. While cooking the final meal to finish all of the food we had purchased, we came to realize that the 4 cans of sweet corn we actually 4 cans of generic creamed corn. Not wanting to waste the food (since we had opened them already), we heated them and tried to stomach the gooey mess. Garrett was the only man with the stomach down them. We all watched and had a good chuckle as he poured bite after bite, and eventually drank the remainder of the creamed corn nightmare. With chipmunk cheeks filled with the goo and residue of the last bite running down the corners of his mouth, we did our part by trying to make him laugh and empty those cheeks. Thanks for helping the team Garrett!

Ambush of the Worms

Posted May 2007 by Joe Holz

On our annual pilgrimage to the north woods, Dan and I, along with our good friends Nick and Russ headed to a fairly small, remote lake off the beaten path that was known for its large Rainbow Trout. This lake (I will not mention the name due to the secrecy I swore to gain information about it in the first place), having no stream or river feeding it, was stocked by the Wisconsin DNR and had a fairly restrictive use policy. No motorized boats of any kind, artificial bait only (including no artificial bait with food flavoring, smell, etc.), and a 12" minimum size limit on the Rainbows. We had been to this lake several times in the past and have always had great luck with landing several Rainbows pushing 20". Our preferred method was paddling around the lake in clockwise circles while pulling spinners and spoons. It was a deadly method.

On this day, there was only 1 other boat on the water besides our two canoes. We noticed the men in the boat jigging and landing several nice fish. As we circled several times, we asked how the fishing was and what they were using. They replied "Good" and "using some flavored, edible plastic worms". Since it was an out of the way lake, the DNR rarely did any checks and knowing the regulations well while having run into this situation in the past with regulations not being followed on this lake, we mentioned the artificial only regulation. However, they did not seem to care and continued the same technique.

As the day progressed, our frustration with the lack of fish production in our boats and the many fish these two gentlemen were catching got the best of us. With each pass around the lake, some relatively snide comments were made to our boat partners with the intent of these two men to hear. There was no reaction from the men and after a few passes, we lost interest.

We went back to the cars for some lunch, then proceeded to fish the afternoon. As we returned to the lake, the two men had decided to leave (most likely worried we had taken their license plate number and called the DNR, since we had threatened that on many passes around the lake. We did take the license plate, but did not have a phone to call and once we got to the DNR office, they had no way of following up with the incident.) As our watercrafts passed each other, they calmly asked how our fishing was. When we explained it was not very good since we were using artificial bait. Then the ambush began. Our boats were bombarded with soft, plastic, flavored worms as they heaved handfuls of their illegal bait at us with the battle cry of "try these you @#$@".

Looking back, things could have been handled in a much more civilized way. However, if that were the case, we would not have this amusing story to recall when we continue to gather each year or to share with you. This was just one of several interesting "mishaps" at this particular lake with more to come later.

"Don't Jack Me Around"

Posted May 2007 by Joe Holz

On a rainy, dreary day, during our annual "Death Trip" to the north woods, we decided to fish the small lake full of Rainbow Trout that I mentioned in the previous entry. If you have read the previous entry, the fishing this time was fairly decent with several nice fish to take back with us, and no, we did not have any run-ins with poachers on this occasion. The excitement happened on the way back.

It was fairly late in the afternoon/evening when we finished fishing and did not want to haul fish back to camp to clean there so we decided to clean the fish in the parking lot and put the fillets in our coolers to transport back. After the long day of paddling in the rain, we were all pretty tired and beat. The 45 minute drive back to camp was very quiet. However, when we arrived at camp, we looked in the cooler for the fillets we were going to cook for supper. They were not there. After a search of all the gear, canoes, and car, we concluded that they were left sitting in the parking lot of the lake. Being conservationists, and more so hungry, we decided to all drive back to the lake to get them.

We arrived at the lake and there were our fillets in the ziploc bag right where we left them. We loaded the fish and to say the least, we were all a little irritated by the wasted time. This time the drive back was even more quiet and draining. As we made our last turn before hitting the gravel road that took us back to camp, we got behind a gold minivan that had just pulled out of the local ice cream shop. The minivan began to swerve all over the road. We followed the van for about 1 mile until our gravel road and to our surprise they turned onto the gravel road too. In their turn, the driver pulled way up on the side of the road, as if to allow us to pass by. I slowly proceeded to pass by them on the left and continued down the gravel road.

About a mile down the gravel road, I looked in the rear view and noticed that the minivan was right up on me so I increased my speed a little. Another minute or so passed and he was back, this time flashing his lights. I increased my speed a little again and again he was back this time with the lights and a one fingered gesture out the window. Not really knowing what his problem was since I was already going 40 on a gravel road, I decided to slow and pull to the side to let him pass. The minivan pulled up along side us and we could see the driver pointing at us and yelling. He had a very constipated look on his face.

I slowed further and he angled his van in front of us and forced us onto the grassy shoulder of the road. Being tired and confused by this, I stopped the car and we just sat there for a second. Then the driver came tearing out of the van to our car. He came right up to our vehicle and was yelling and rambling nonsensical things and threatening to call his friends with the DNR, local police, FBI, and CIA to name a few. "It was all over for us" and he warned us "Don't jack me around!". He continued by reaching into my window and grabbed the tips of the fishing rods that were near the front of the car and bent them over threatening to "break our #$%^ing rods". He then demanded our disposable camera, which in shock of the situation, we gave to him. With a violent swing, he threw the camera to the ground and stomped it into the soft, water logged gravel road. All the while his wife and daughter looked on in shock and disbelief from the minivan. Ice cream melting down the young girls face and hand.

The van pulled away and we sat in shock of what had happened. This man, no more than 5'6" and a shoe size slightly bigger than a disposable camera (we have a picture of his footprint over the camera) had intimidated 4 grown young men and we could only sit there in shock. We could only surmise that our friend Russ, who was in the passenger seat, was taking pictures as we were driving and this guy thought we took his picture as we passed him. With his van swerving and his temper, he may have thought we caught him doing something he shouldn't have been and had to take revenge. Without knowing his name and never seeing him again, we now refer to him as "Paul Zass" as in, If we ever see him again, we are going to kick Paul' Zass.

Holz Canoe Paddles

info@holzcanoepaddles.com