“I fish better with a cigar; some fish better with talent.”

  • The gods do not deduct from man’s allotted span the hours spent in fishing – Babylonian Proverb
  • Bragging may not bring happiness, but no man having caught a large fish goes home through an alley. – Author Unknown
  • Many men go dishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.  Henry David Thoreau
  • There is certainly something in angling that tends to produce a serenity of mind. – Washington Irving
  • My biggest worry is that my wife(when I’m dead) will sell my fishing gear for what I said I paid for it. – Koos Brandt
  • Bass fishermen watch Monday night football, drink beer, drive pickup trucks and prefer noisy women with big breasts.  Trout fishermen watch MacNeil-Lehrer, drink white wine, drive foreign cars with passenger-side air bags and hardly think about women at all.  This last characteristic may have something to do with the fact that trout fishermen spend most of the time immersed up to their thighs in ice-cold water. – Author Unknown
Men and fish are alike.  They both get into trouble when they OPEN THEIR MOUTHS! —AMEN!

When living in Minneapolis, Minnesota I learned to fish for the BIG-UNS (Northern, Muskies, and tasty Walleye). My teachers were Bill, Harry and Chuck.  I lived a few blocks from the Chain of Lakes. My closest lake was Lake Harriet, which ran into Lake Calhoun, where I met the boys in the wee early hours on weekends. I’ll never forget the 5:30 a.m. mirror of water reflecting snow geese flying in their V formation overhead.  What a memory. Bill would greet me with, “Well here comes Sunshine” as I made my way down the creaky dock. I’d open up my portable chair and set down my red plaid metal cooler and tackle.  Plopping my early morning tired self down in my chair, I would attempt to turn the lid on my plastic orange thermos. Sometime the pressure would make it difficult and one of the boys would help. The aroma of the dark bean coffee was beautiful mixed with the early morning misty smell of the lake.  There’s a coffee shop on literally every corner in Minneapolis. A tavern on every corner in Saint Paul…but that’s another story. Anyway, I became a coffee snob.  And yes, every now and then, especially on chilly days, I would lite up a tiny cigar. I’m not sure why the boys took me in. I was one of the only girls on dock with the exception of Margaret and few others that would make a temporary showing. For bait we used giant sucker minnows the size of small Colorado trout, worms and leeches. I don’t like putting worms on the hook. They have a yellow slime when they break apart that I find appalling but I have NO trouble having a leech attach his sucker to my finger while attaching it to the hook. I think that was impressive to the boys.  Well we would sit and pace the dock for four hours average before pulling in our first fish.  Usually they were toothy Northern at least a yard long and walkers, cyclists, and skaters would stop on the lake path and cheer and clap as we would pull them in.  We would unhook them trying not to get bit (I think Bill almost lost his pinky finger once) and we would take pictures and then splash them back in to their home. I so loved fishing with my boys and miss them very much! Including all the bullshitting during the four hour wait.  “We ask a simple question and that is all we wish: Are fishermen all liars? Or do only liars fish?”

The boys lake Calhoun

Nancy Lake Harriet fishing for muskie

Me in about 18 layers of clothing fishing at Lake Harriet, Minneapolis for the infamous MUSKIE!

Harrry, Bill and Chuck

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