The different faces of Great Slave Lake

Hi, I was just talking about Great Slave Lake with a freind yesterday. I have paddled different sections of it on two different occasions, and I will be back for more this year. The thing that struck me the most was how different every part of the lake was.
My first experience involved paddling from the Slave River to Hay river late in the fall. The tundra swans were gforming flocks and getting ready to head south as I was winding up a big trip and preparing to head home. I thought that this was somehow fitting as I live on Vancouver Island, and that is where the swans spend the winter. Large flocks of swans would fly out of my way as I paddled through the relativly sheltered bays, and fought my way around rocky points. Exposure is one word that comes to mind when I think of that coast. The great big sea was always pushing me towards the stoney points, and influenced my ability to make forward progress. The bays themselves were beautiful. These were mosty sandy shores and although the marsh came to the shoreline in many places, there were still many fine camping spots. The many streams that flow into Great Slave Lake are all dark from tanic acid, and add to the beauty of the land.
My next trip I turned North and headed to Yellowknife, the North arm, and then around to Fort Providence. My first night on the lake that trip was speant on a sculpted granite island, the first I had seen in a while. I got to watch the sun set over the lake, and during mid-summer it was a great red orb that slowly set until it became a thin red line that shimmered on the horizon for an impossibly long time. From that point on the sand slowly gave way to the sculpted granite as I island-hopped accross to the North shore and headed up the North Arm to Yellowknife. I paddled all night when the conditions were right, and enjoyed the dusk that allowed me to do so. This was prime fishing country with big northern pike hiding behind almost every rock. I was glad that I took the time to enjoy that as the minute I crossed the North Arm I landed on a white sand beach. Three things will probably always define this side of the lake. One is the limestone cliffs and bluffs that jut ut into the lake, another are the large bays that tempt a paddler to cross them, and the third is the winds that threaten to blow up and send a paddler to the other side of the lake if they ghet careless. They were usually from the West, so if I was crossing a bay I ran the risk of a very many uncomfortable hours, but if I followed the shore I could add more that ten miles (in some cases) to my trip. That trip allowed me to spot woodland caribou, and wild bison, and those sitings were enough to make the trip worthwhile.
The first thing that I saw when I rounded thepoint and headed East was an old blue van parked in the lake. This vehicle must have broken down during the winter or something, and it was sad to see it parked there. Heading East from there campsites were rare, and I finished this section with a marathon paddle caused mainly by my lack of campsites. This section has a vast array of mosquito types and sizes, and about the only kind that I could not find were the ones that were full, and hense would not chase me. There were moose in great numbers, and wetlands that could support vast congregations of waterfowl. The only part of this lake that i have not really explored is the East arm, and that is on the list for this year.
How does this relate to others experiences?
Cheers