I JUST LOVE FISHING

<"SPIRIT LAKE"
~~~~~THE FISH~~~~
It was one of our first vacations to the North Country. We were staying at the “Whispering Pine Lodge” on “Pickerel Flowage.” My Grandpa had talked about this area for many years. As a matter of fact this small town called “St. Germain” had become a favorite place of President Eisenhower to fish with his friend Chief St. Germain. At that time there was no electricity or water in the cabins. Just kerosene lanterns, candles, and outhouses. The land was just being logged, rugged and beautiful. There are hundreds of lakes, rivers, flowages, streams, and dams all connected eventually ending up as part of the Wisconsin River system. We came here because I wanted to go back with Kathy so she could experience the beautiful Wisconsin Northwoods. It was the first week in June, the day was warm and sunny with a nice Southwest wind. After dinner Kathy & I decided to try for some Walleyes at the mouth of the river. So off we went in our small aluminum boat. The colors of individual bodies of waters would change because of the different types of trees & soil. As we were enjoying the evening I remembered one of he stories my Grandpa had told me years ago. There was an old timer called “Hank” that lived somewhere on the lake for many years, who told of a certain fish he had been after for years. My Grandpa had come across Hank many times on the lake. Grandpa would ask him. “Hey Hank, well did you get him yet?” “Nope, he keeps breaking the line he would snarl!” There were no motors allowed on the lake so fishermen had had to use rowboats. Hank told Grandpa “I think I’m going to use chalk line tomorrow baited with a nice juicy sucker. If he breaks that line I’m done with him.” Well early the next morning Hank headed out to his favorite to look for his fish. It was in a bay were the river came into the Northeast part of the lake. There perched high in a near by pine tree was an Eagle’s nest. As Hank approached the area Grandpa backed off and anchored so not to get in Hanks was. As both men settled down and got ready for what ever was going to happen the only sounds were that of the birds, the wind sliding along their ears and though the trees. It seemed to have been a couple of hours before Hank gave out a sound. “I think it’s him”. Hank & Grandpa sat up straight in their boats, watching, and waiting. Hank took up the slack and set the hook as hard as his as his arms could. The line came slicing out of the water like a whip, the line held tight. But Hank couldn’t bring the fish any closer. It was a stalemate for quite some time, neither fish nor boat moving. “Hank” held on to the chalk line, but it started to slip through his fingers, he took a tighter grip and the boat started to be pulled around the corner of the river around some old tree trunks. Faster and faster the boat moved up river. Granpa tried to get the anchor of his boat up so he could help Hank, but it was stuck around a limb under water. By the time he got the anchor up and started rowing towards Hank, Hanks boat had disappeared up the river. Grandpa searched up river for Hanks boat. He found the boat smashed against a rock-covered bank. Hank was never seen again As we made our first drift across the mouth of the river, the weather started to change. The skies were turning a dark gray. Mist started to fall and the wind switched to the Northeast. I hadn’t really noticed but it was getting harder to see, all of a sudden the boat jerked as if it had rolled over something. My line was in the water and which was a tangle of a lot of tree trunks and stumps sinking out of the water. This is not a place a person wants to stick in at night without some kind of light. It really started mist hard against our faces. We decided to go in for the night. Just as I started to raise my line out of the water something huge grabbed my bait. It was a moment of excitement and fear. At least the wind was blowing us across the lake toward the cabin. The mist had turned in to sleet. After fighting the FISH for sometime I finally saw it. What I thought first was a Walleye was actually a 37-inch MUSKY. Kathy got the net and skillfully placed it under the fish and raised it from the water. Just as she brought the fish over the boat the FISH opened it’s mouth and tore a huge whole in the net causing the fish it to fall on the floor boat. There is nothing like fresh fried fish. This fish was so big I believe it was one of Hanks fishes offspring’s.