So it goes...

If you are reading this on Thursday, I am on my way off the grid. It is that time of year again. Muskiefest! This is the one weekend a year completely dedicated to searching for Esox masquinongy - the largest of the pike species. I wouldn't say it's a weekend I can barely wait for every year, but it really is. If you know me, you know that this is my latest obsession. This will be my eighth consecutive year going up to the Manitowish Waters area with a couple of buddies, one of whom owns a place up that way and graciously lets us crash for the weekend. I was fortunate enough to catch a muskie up there five consecutive years in a row. These past two years I've been skunked, so am super revved to get one this year. They are the fish of 10,000 casts, so they are hard to come by, but if you don't try, you'll never get one, right? 10/14/2011 The occasion falls on the weekend of a couple of significant birthdays as well. My nephew and godson Nick's birthday ...

I just returned today from my annual muskie fishing trip. It was another tough year with nary a fish sighting all weekend. Much like last year, the lakes were in the middle of what is known as "the turn." I'm not sure of all of the details, but basically, when it starts getting cold out, the warm water gets pushed down and the lakes become clouded with stuff from the lake bottom. This makes the fishing slower until a week or two after it when things have cleared. Like last year, I'm a little bummed out that I didn't come away with a fish picture. Then, as we were driving home, I got to thinking that the Muskie trip is so much more than just the fish. It's about ...being in a boat with two good friends and laughing until my side hurts. ...seeing two eagles perched in the top of a Jack Pine. ...having your friend warn you about the rock bar on a new lake while using his boat and then promptly finding the rock bar the hard way. By the grace of God, no ...

As I packed for my upcoming Musky Fest weekend in northern Wisconsin, there were constant reminders of my brother Rob, who would have turned 52 years old today. I sorted and organized my tackle and lures, most of which were his at one time. During his sickness, he started giving his outdoor stuff away to family and friends. I got his musky fishing tackle, and Paul and Tom were given his ice fishing equipment. It makes this time of year bitter sweet for me. A couple of weeks after I received the tackle box, I remember looking in one of the pockets and finding a map for the BWCA for an area we frequented. It caused one of those blindsided moments of grief where I was glad no one was around. Somehow knowing that he'd used the map twenty some years ago was just too much to take. When I can, I like to pack a backup reel for this trip, in case something should happen to my main one. So I grabbed the one Rob gave me and, well, there he was again. This reel gave me some problems whe...

I made one of the brasher decisions in my life a couple of weeks back. I got a tattoo. This wasn't some spur of the moment decision like the movie Hangover II where Ed Helms gets a Mike Tyson tattoo during a blackout. I have been thinking about getting a tattoo for a year and a half. There was real thought that went into both if I would get one, and what I would get if I did decide to. Part of me was intrigued by the thought of doing something no one would ever guess me to do in a million years. The other part was concerned what people would think. That's where my brother came in. When I mentioned that I was thinking of getting one, my older brother said, "Why not? You're 50, who cares?" I had the hardest time finding an argument against his reasoning. When I mentioned it to my wife, she said she had been thinking about getting one too. When my mom heard about it she said that maybe she would get one too. She's 80. Her attitude was much like mine. ...

As I mentioned, our time at Pine Forest Lodge last weekend was phenomenal. Good family together time, great cousin time, a blue moon party in Rob's honor, and a really big fish to boot. I couldn't have asked for more. Because it was such a great time at a place that is near and dear to us all, I thought I'd recount some of the memorable moments of years past "at the cabin". I do this not to the exclusion of those who have never been to PFL, but rather to the inclusion  of anyone out there that has been to "the cabin." Most everyone has a favorite summer place they have been to as a kid or an adult and likely will be able to relate to some of the moments I describe. First Fish: While not everyone's first fish was at PFL, most people in our family caught their first fish at a cabin. Sarah used to sit in what we call her African squat on the dock in Hackensack MN for hours and catch bluegills. It is where she caught her first fish as well as her...