Last week in his “Outdoor Woods and Water” column, George Rogers wrote that when “a hunter or a fisherman comes home empty-handed, he likes to say how great it was to be outdoors, enjoying the singing birds, the scenery, the fresh air, and on and on and on.” I agree with this statement, especially after spending a wonderful day fishing on Spring Lake in Waushara County Sunday, May 17.
Spring Lake, with a marl base, isn’t well known, as it’s hidden between Wautoma and Neshkoro. It has a public boat landing – two of them in fact – but finding them is difficult because both are off little-used roads.
I’m familiar with the lake, as a friend and I would go fishing there during high school, and because my in-laws have a weekend home on it. On paper, it might appear as though I married my wife for this connection, but I can honestly say I wasn’t aware she and her family were familiar with the lake until after we started dating.
With this connection, I’ve got access to the lake with a pontoon boat – or as we call it, the “redneck yacht” – which is good because I don’t own my own boat.
Since no-wake rules apply to the lake, cruising around on it is a slow journey. It’s a half-mile long, but getting to the other side from the weekend home is a 15-minute trip. That’s fine, because the sights on the lake, which is only half developed, are a treat to watch.
On most days, people can spot a pair of osprey dive bombing the lake for fish, a heron prowling the shorelines for food, monster snapping turtles just beneath the surface of the water, beavers making dams on the east shore, ducks and geese nesting on fishing piers, and a multitude of fish swimming in the clear lake.
My objective – to catch these fish – is often futile, as my skills as a fisherman aren’t well developed. It’s not for a lack of trying, as I’ve been fishing since I’ve been a little boy. It’s more because my attitude towards fishing is so casual I’ve used the same rod and reel since I was 14, which was 20 years ago. The supplies in my tackle box are nearly as old, and my devotion to observing better fishermen is usually outweighed by my desire to have other conversations with these people on subjects other than fishing.
On Sunday, my friend Alex, a college roommate of mine who has been living in Japan for the last decade as a professional kickboxer, set out on hopes of catching a trophy bass, although our commitment couldn’t have been that great as we didn’t arrive at the lake until 9:30 a.m., long past the best fishing times in the morning.
We also weren’t prepared as well as we should have been. Neither of us had any nightcrawlers, and an attempt to dig for them was fruitless. We decided to try our luck with artificial bait.
I was skunked in the morning, while Alex got a couple of small rock bass on a spinner. However, we managed to have plenty of humorous discussions about our days in college and the people we met there.
It may not have been a large northern, but reliving memories about Zeus were hilarious. Zeus was a guy who was a seventh-year senior when we were freshmen who took on the name of a Greek god because he believed nobody on campus possessed as much wisdom as he did, including the professors. I had a creative writing class with him my junior year, and his story about “war machines being pulled by teams of giant elephants” still makes me laugh every time I think about it. Zeus ended up graduating with my class, and to this day I wonder what he’s using all the knowledge he gained in 11 years of college for.
After a delicious lunch provided by my mother-in-law, we went back out on the lake, hoping to have better luck. Alex caught a couple of bigger panfish, and I, yet again, caught nothing. We even had some nightcrawlers this time, as my father-in-law helped us find some good places to dig for them.
After docking the yacht, we fished from shore for a little bit. Joking that my 4-year-old son has outfished me this year – he caught a rock bass from shore the previous weekend – I truly thought I’d have to talk about the nice day it was for fishing, rather than on the fishing itself.
However, the fishing gods, or maybe the spirit of Zeus, descended upon my pole and me, allowing a 13-inch bass to hit my artificial worm as I reeled it in. I didn’t miss the opportunity, and landed it. As Alex put it, I may not have gotten nearly as many as him, but I did get the best fish of the day.
I had to throw it back, as it wasn’t big enough to keep, but in my mind it made for a wonderful day of fishing. Not just a wonderful day in general.
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette in May 2009.
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