THE BOBBER landed right next to the partly submerged shoreline tree, and under it was hook, sinker and a small minnow set just a foot below the surface.
It took all of four or five seconds for the pencil bobber to pop and slowly disappear, dropping toward the tree as a fish returned to its underwater hideout. The hookset was solid and the fight was on, quite a battle trying to keep the fish from darting back into the maze of sticks and branches.
I hoisted into the boat a 12-inch crappie, a golden slab of a fish that had so much
WE?WERE busy catching walleyes on the outside edge of cabbage weeds, three of us in the boat, when the rarest of wild encounters unfolded.
A loon with a chick on its back swam right past the boat, almost as if we didn’t exist. It came so close that I feared moving to unzip a camera bag might spook them away.
My wife and daughter knew exactly what this opportunity meant — the walleyes would have to wait. I grabbed the camera and a zoom lens. When the birds got an appropriate distance away, we pulled anchor and let the boat