In the spring or late winter, I feel that it is my duty to make at least one trip to Cabela’s and Fleet Farm in Owatonna. I have found that I have made it a tradition of sorts to make at least one trip there before the fishing opener. At my age, I don’t really feel that buying any new lures is feasible, but I am sure that I will still find myself immersed in the many aisles of fishing lures designed to catch more fishermen than fish.
Years ago, I would look to In-Fisherman magazine as the bible of fishing magazines and there were many tips that I took as gospel. Some were worthy of putting in my fishing bag of tricks, but others were not useful to the area of the U.S. that I fish. Although it would be a great experience, I will never be fishing for walleye in Lake Erie. tarpon in Florida or Peacock Bass in Mexico. When I was an aspiring young outdoorsman, I had all of these dreams, but sadly, today I have to get my thrills closer to home. There was a time when I read Field and Stream, Outdoor Life and Sports Afield magazine and would read about experiences that I could only dream about having. I remember as a teen reading in the Peach section of the Minneapolis Sunday paper about a mysterious “Monster” fish swimming in the waters of Rainey Lake. It was reportedly spotted by numerous fishermen and canoeists. Maybe it was just a legend created to attract more folks to the area. It did pique my interest as a 15-year old youth who loved fishing and the outdoors.
After I returned from the service, married and had a family, we took a trip to the Black Hills one summer along with some friends and their two kids. We camped at Custer State Park, and it was a great vacation. I managed to bring enough fishing gear for everyone. I had never fished for trout before, but I was told that the trout fishing was good out there, so why not? We bought a day license and some night crawlers and off we went to Stockade Lake. I had never fished trout before, so I thought that they couldn’t be any different than fishing bullheads. I had a few Lindy Rigs in my tackle box, so we gave that a try. We fished offshore like we fished bullheads as kids. It wasn’t long before we were catching trout and largemouth bass. One of the boys had caught a fish and, as I was taking it off the hook for him, my fishing pole went flying across the grass, headed into the lake. I dove for it and caught it just as it was disappearing into the lake. Everyone had a good laugh about it, but at least I still had the fishing pole with a trout attached to the other end. My sons still bring that up from time-to-time and still say that they couldn’t believe that I could move that fast.
That evening after we had gotten back to camp, I cleaned the trout, wrapped them in tin foil with some lemon and onion and cooked them on the grill. It was pretty good, but I don’t believe that I have ever eaten trout again, not for any particular reason, but I have just never fished for them again.
Whenever we went camping, I had at least one fishing pole and a small tackle box along, just in case there was water around. I’d guess that was the kid in me that has never seemed entirely to go away. As Toby Keith said in one of his last songs: Don’t Let the Old Man In. Sometimes that’s pretty hard not to do.
To this day I usually have a fishing pole and small tackle box in my truck, just in case I feel the urge to wet a line. Once the ice goes out, I spend a lot of time driving around the lake, pumping myself up for the fishing season.
Until next time: Check the tackle boxes to see if you have room for one more lure and check the fishing line on your reels. Some folks replace the line every year, but I’ve gotten a little lazy (or thrifty), so I just make sure it is not frayed or stiff, but that’s just me. If you can break it easily by hand, it’s time.
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