One big one…

It’s what drove the economy here in the northwoods for decades. It was the chase going after the big one, the record breaker. You’d drive north then book a place at one of our fine run down resorts. Bright and early the next day you and your party would head over to the tackle shop and purchase an out of state fishing license (big bucks). While there you’d blow a wade on all the latest fishing lures. To hell with the costs, we’re talking lunkers here.

Then it was a fast trip over to Wheeler’s Café where George would fry you up a fast breakfast of a bowl of grease and burnt toast. Leaving the place with a rumbling stomach you knew you should have had oat meal and hoped you'd make it through the day. Your party then would drive down Highway 51 parking at Bosacki’s Boathouse and looking out onto the lake through the early morning light you could see the ground fog slightly lifting. There’s a chill in the air as well as the sound of an old marine gray engine of you guide’s boat chugging along to meet you.

It’s the opener and you were fortunate to have booked old Ray Kennedy, the man’s a legend in this part of the state. Ray’s has landed more whoppers than any man that’s had a rod in hand. He and his dad, Jim, Kennedy set the pace fishing on the Minocqua chain and made fishing with then an adventure, never mind the catch.

“Hop in you guys, for we can’t catch anything without our lines in the water.”
This was the first thing out of his month and that day and for years to come Ray and I would share many more days fishing and sharing good old fashioned b.s.
Ray is gone now and so is our “fishing/resort” industry. There are jet skis, drag boats and crazies that tear up the waters. Yet another fishing season is approaching and I’ll go out due to force of habit and I’ll be thinking of a guy that taught me more about life than my college text books...looking for that big one.