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There is not much finer than a fresh filet of Georgian Bay Whitefish grilled with BBQ'd farm fresh corn-on-the-cob and local new potatos roasted amoungst the coals. Often times I'll throw a few potatos into the dying coals and let those suckers bake through the night. By morning the spuds are cool enough to slice and I fry them up along with the traditional eggs, bacon and camp coffee. Other mornings we just have campfire pancakes... ho-hum. Sounds great eh? Ya well you ain't the poor soul who starts the fire at four in the afternoon, burning chopped down peices of maple and ash hardwood to make a mighty fine bed of coals. And then sit there stooped over the grill with the heat from the hubs of hell searing your knuckle hair, (what? you don't have knuckle hair? I'd show you mine, but it's burned!) for the next two hours. Turning the cobs one-by-one a quarter turn at a time, oh so carefully flipping the fish so it still looks like fish, not like the "fish" McDonald's tries to pass off on the public. And, oh ya, did I tell you about the fire? Ya my beard started sizzling and got all frizzy and shirley templeish. Well ok, it didn't exactly ERUPT into flames but it could have... An-An-And you know what Biff did? Ya know what she did? She laughed, that's what she did... She laughed. Sorry got carried away... So here we are: