The Call of the Wild (or Lunch)

At the end of this week, I will sally forth with a group of old friends on my annual northwoods bass fishing trip. There are a lot of great things about this trip. First, the volume of fried food that I consume reaches its yearly zenith on this annual outing. Second, the scenery is beautiful, the air is clean, and our common friendship rich and rewarding. Third, I get to use my hand-turned fishing lures and brag about them while asking my buddies if they would like to “rent” one from me. In truth, the spring bass action is usually so fast and furious that no one has ever been tempted by my offer (I heard one of them say “could catch a bass on a corncob in this lake …” as I removed a lunker from my lure) — but that does not diminish the pleasure of making said offer one whit.

‘Tis true, that as our heads become hoary (mine at least; the other guys are mostly bald) that we worry more about lunch as we start the day than fishing tactics or tackle. Nevertheless, I am still looking forward to the trip in every way.

Rob Johnstone, Woodworker’s Journal

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