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n r e great North news November 2021 | Vol. 8 | Number 3
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Winter
Appreciate the beauty of winter with more photos on page 16
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You Deserve a Donut... Page 7
On Thin Ice Page 8-9
A Paul Bunyan Christmas Page 5
2 great northern news | November 2021
November 2021 | great northern news
Publisher’s Note
By Doug Taylor
Welcome to the holiday season, folks! As for most of you, this is our busiest, most challenging time of the year. It is also the most rewarding and humbling. This is when we wrap up the last of our projects and evaluate what we’ve accomplished in the past year. It’s time for us to become inspired and to plan what’s to come in the New Year! This inner refl ection just gets us in shape, you know? Speaking of getting in shape, this is the time of year we bring out our team of horses to provide horsedrawn rides for locals and visitors. We snuggle riders in fl uffy, toasty blankets to keep them comfortable in the cold weather. These adventures create treasured memories to keep them warm for years to come. It’s a lot of work, but we love doing it because it’s our unique gift to the public, which we feel encompasses the true meaning of the holiday season. We are also responsible for getting our horses in shape for this season. It takes experience and custom skills to work with horses in cold weather, basically like loggers did many years ago. They need to be cooled down properly and be walked out, sometimes up to an hour after working them. So, we gladly do the work because this is a time to give. Giving is what this time of year is all about. Action Entertainment is a company that produces unique theatrical productions, from something as simple as driving a horse and wagon to arranging our 1933 Stinson aircraft to be used by a Los Angeles fi lm crew and coordinating a location shoot right here in Backus. Our publication, Great Northern News, is in keeping with the theme of our company. IT’s an old-fashioned printed paper we can actually hand to
people. There’s nothing like holding a newspaper in your hands while sitting in your cozy chair at home with a hot cup of coffee. Readers can take a copy as a free souvenir and share the joy of wholesome, entertaining literature with others. I also appreciate the online aspect of Great Northern News, which allows us to share our stories with people all over the world. We have readers in England, Australia, South Africa, and all over the United States. It’s amaz-
ing how you can connect with the world these days. Great Northern News is a project that brings a great team of people together with a lot of passion. I’d like to say thank you this time of year for your support. At this point, we’re going on our 11th year. The paper has grown signifi cantly over the years and it’s a project we absolutely love! We are grateful to see its success and happy our advertisers are getting business from connecting with new
A Paul Bunyan Christmas By John Wetrosky Paul Bunyan sat in the dimly lit cabin with a puzzled look on his rugged, half-shaven face. He was doing his annual Christmas shopping list and it wasn’t getting any easier for this huge lumberman. Paul did his shopping close to home in places with names like Pine River, Hackensack Longville, Crosslake, Pequot Lakes, Breezy Point and Nisswa. These were towns built around the tall timber where Paul made his reputation along with his faithful sidekick Babe. Babe stood outside Paul’s rough hewn log cabin, grazing through the windowpane at Paul sitting on his wooden bench, quill pen in hand. Once in a while, Paul would scratch down a few words on a piece of white paper birchbark. Over the years, Paul’s shopping list had changed. The gifts he had given over the years had changed to reflect the times. It was easy to buy a new pair of heavy wool socks, a hefty red and black plaid wool shirt, or perhaps a pair of lumberman pants. But the younger crowd didn’t seem to get the same thrill out of opening a package of red bandannas or a brightly striped pair of suspenders. One year, Paul gave a brand new, shiny axe to all his nephews and nieces. They were delighted, and Paul sat back contentedly drawing on his pipe, watching their excited faces when they opened their prizes. They didn’t seem to appreciate such gifts in the modern day. Now-a-days, it seemed that technology had crept into gift giving. Paul saw advertisements in the local paper featuring things called cell phones, ear buds, laptops, iPhone watches and things called Kindles. He asked himself what good any of these things would be to someone working in the tall timber. You couldn’t cut a tall tree down with something called an earbud. A laptop wouldn’t keep you warm when it was 30 below zero with a north wind howling down your neck. Paul was puzzled by these modern conveniences.
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cookie or two. Paul’s chosen gifts were cheerfully wrapped by the merchants and soon the sled was full of brightly colored gift boxes. Paul threw a tarp over his pile of gifts to keep them snow-proof, climbed aboard and gave Babe the order to head on home. Paul thought how lucky he was to live in this part of the pine country where the small-town service was still around. He no longer wore the puzzled look on his face as he had found just the right gift for everyone on his list. Christmas Eve came and found Paul sitting among all his family as they unwrapped his gifts. He sat back in his huge rocker, gently puffing on that big black pipe and smiling as his youngest niece opened her package of new earbuds and gave out a squeal of pleasure. Somehow, Paul knew she would enjoy them more than a pair of thick, wool socks. It was Christmas time in the North Country. It was, and is, a special winter place.
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Snow had begun to fall at a fast clip and Paul could see that the trail out front of the cabin was rapidly drifting shut. If he was to complete his shopping list tonight, he’d have to hitch Babe to the sleigh and get busy. Babe pushed through the chest deep drifts out to the main road where the two were met with the first snowplow of the season. Babe followed the plow down the now cleared road into town. Twice the plow became bogged down in the deep drifts, but with just a nudge from Babe’s broad forehead, the plow was freed, and the driver waved in appreciation for the push. All of the north country towns Paul roamed through stayed open throughout the long northern winters, serving their customers’ every need. He bought feed and hay for Babe from a store in Pine River. He bought hardware there as well and he had a favorite barber in Pine River who trimmed his huge beard with a hedge trimmer. He bought a gift certificate to a favorite restaurant in Hackensack for his beloved Lucette. Lucette really liked the 24 ounce Porterhouse steak they served there. Crossing over the Pine River into Crosslake, Paul found a new snowblower for his long-lost nephew who hated shoveling snow by hand. Traveling south to Breezy Point, Paul bought two weeks in a timeshare for his aunt in Alaska so she could come down and thaw out near the indoor pool in January. Making his way back home, Paul stopped in Nisswa and Pequot Lakes to pick up a few fishing lures and a Grandma Bettie Jane’s pie for his uncle who loved pecan pie. All the towns in the north country were brightly lit for the coming holidays. Each light pole was adorned with colorful lights and the little stores all glimmered with tinsel and decorations. Even with a snowstorm raging, the merchants stayed open and some of them even offered Paul hot apple cider and a freshly baked
customers through our publication. We are also thankful to see an increased budget, which allows us to create even more and distribute to a larger area. Thank you to all who participate – not only the team that puts everything together, but to our readers who support and encourage us as well. May your Christmas be merry, your Hannukah be bright, and your New Year’s the best ever!
great Northern news
Publisher: Doug Taylor Guest Writers: Betsy Schroeder • Sue Ready Chris Haugene • Alice Kae Wiese Rich Engstrom • Mark J. Harlow William S. Weinrich • John Wetrosky Dick Carlson • Jonah Lazerine Mike French • Monsieur Mayhem Proofreading: Betsy Schroeder
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November 2021 | Great Northern News
The Best Christmas Ever By Rich Engstrom Adam pulled off the buffalo robe and swung his legs around, putting his feet on the cold wooden floor. He then briskly walked over to the fireplace to kick up the fire, to which he added more wood. He reached for his boots he’d set by the fireplace to dry the night before. Adam went back to his robe to wait until the fire would produce the heat that would let him put on his clothes with more comfort. As he waited, he could hear the wind blow snow against the cabin and he could feel the cold wind move across the floor and under the windows. On a small lake located north of Crosslake, the cabin had been his home for only a week, but still, Adam felt very alone. He was up there to trap and make some extra money for his parents. The depression had hit his family hard, and they were in need of money to make it through the winter. When he felt that the room was warm to a bearable temperature, he put on his clothes. Adam made breakfast, then headed out into the blizzard to check his traps. “ W h a t should I have for breakfast today?” Adam asked himself. “Bacon and biscuits or biscuits and bacon?” He
now had to budget his food because the trapping had been good enough that he had decided to stay longer than planned. Adam wanted to stay just long enough to make some good money but leave before the real cold weather arrived. After eating, Adam put on his large overcoat and pulled his hat down over his ears. He then put on his mittens and slipped into his snowshoes. It was later in the day that Adam came back to the cabin. He was starved but would first have to clean and stretch his hides. He worked quickly to take advantage of the sun, all the time thinking about food. Adam also remembered that the next day was Christmas. That thought just made him feel even more alone. He had never been away from his family before. Just as Adam was getting food ready for supper, he thought he heard bells. After all, it was Christmas Eve. He went to the door, and with all his strength, he opened it as the cold wind tried to push it open all the way. The evening was bright, and Adam could make out a figure on snowshoes pulling a toboggan coming towards him. “Billy, what are you doing up here? It’s not fit for man or beast to be out tonight!” exclaimed Adam. “I thought you could use some company. I also stopped and cut a Christmas tree for you,” Billy replied. “I don’t have any decorations, but bring it in.” As Billy pulled off his snowshoes, he said, “That’s all right; your sisters got together and made you some. Susie even made a silver star for the top of the tree.” Billy grabbed a bag from the sled while Adam dragged in the tree. “I’ll make us some coffee,” Adam said. Adam put the tree in the corner and walked over to the water bucket where he took a hammer and broke the ice that had formed. He proceeded to make coffee and put the pot near the fire. He picked up the decorations Billy had given him and started to decorate the tree. Humming Christmas songs, Adam started smiling
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and felt not so alone anymore. “Look what your family sent you.” Billy reached into his bag and pulled out a half of a turkey, potatoes, bread and vegetables that were already cooked, just needing to be heated. As the two worked busily, Adam decorating and Billy getting the food ready, they suddenly stopped, hearing yelling over the sound of the wind. The door flew open, and it was Ted and Swen carrying in more food and a few presents. Ted reached into his bag and took out a few wrapped presents. “I can’t believe this!” cried Adam. Billy got up, moved the food over the fire and poured the coffee into four cups. As they ate, Adam opened the first present. It was a knife. “I made it myself using the antler from that big buck I shot this fall. It makes a nice handle,” Swen said. A nicely wrapped present was next. It was a pair of mittens. “Your mother made those herself,” stated Swen. Adam put them on and they were a perfect fit. They ate and talked about trapping and decided they would stay for a couple of days to help out Adam. Adam, of course, said he would share the catch. After the meal, they added more wood to the fire and sat back on some log benches covered with horse blankets and enjoyed each other’s company. Bob reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and filled each man’s coffee cup. With the wind howling outside and the temperature in the room still just barely above freezing, the men started telling stories. “This is my best Christmas ever!” Adam said as he brought his cup up for a toast.
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Honoring Our Fallen Heroes at Christmas
By Sue Ready Christmas for Vets is a locally based, non-profit organization that is preparing to place Christmas wreaths on Veterans’ graves once again this year. The purpose of this organization is to recognize veterans in local cemeteries with the placement of Christmas wreaths for the holiday season. This community event is headed by local women: Cathy Malecha, President; Shirley Robideau, Vice President; and Sharon Thurlow, Secretary/ Treasurer. The group has expanded it’s sites to include these cemeteries: The Pequot Lakes City Cemetery, Our Savior Lutheran Church, Gloria Dei Lutheran Church, Kedron, Norwood Cemetery in Jenkins Township, plus Pleasant Hill Cemetery and Maple Hill Cemetery in Maple Township. This brings the total number of honored veterans to 414. Christmas for Vets is in its sixth year. There’s a lot of history surrounding the veterans who have served their country and are buried in these local cemeteries. The service of these veterans can be traced as far back as the Spanish American War and Civil War and up to and including the Vietnam War. Christmas for Vets initially sends letters requesting a $15 donation for the cost of the stake and wreath to surviving family members, if that information is available. Local businesses and non-profit organizations have generously supported the Christmas for Vets program for the last few years, ensuring that all local veterans will be honored. The public is also invited to send donations. Support for this effort is greatly appreciated, whether there’s a veteran in the family or not. All contributions are tax deductible and can be sent to: Christmas for Vets, c/o Cathy Malecha, 38101 Rasmussen Road, Pequot Lakes, MN, 56472. Stakes are put out the first Saturday in October at 11 a.m. Wreaths are put out the first Saturday in December at 11 a.m. (weather permitting). Volunteers are welcome to participate on both or either of these dates. Meet in the west parking lot behind Our Savior’s Lutheran Church in Pequot Lakes. All wreaths are removed in February. For more information or if any other community is interested in implementing a similar project, call Cathy at 218-568-4488 or Sharon at 218-831-1045. Once a program is set up in an area, the yearly work is minimal. Cathy Malecha attributes the success of the organization to “the many dedicated volunteers who assist us each year in wreath distribution.” Supporting Christmas for Vets is an opportunity for the community to recognize those who have given service to their country.
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6 great northern news | November 2021
Book Review: ‘Hearts of Prey’
PAGE 12
November 2021 | great northern news
GREAT NORTHERN NEWS
JULY/AUGUST 2017
young pups were beginning their chorus. Then the pack leader opened his hymnal and the others of the pack suddenly became quiet. She knew the sound of the leader. She had run beside him as he threw himself into the side of a weakened deer last winter and the pack converged to eat their fill. No trace of the deer was to be found when they had finished. Just a hollow, red spot in the snow. The old wolf knew the power of the pack. How each individual had a specific purpose and how they employed those instincts toward survival. She longed to run again with them. She whimpered a short answer in their direction. The sound of the pack came closer to her as she stood alone on the edge of the field and suddenly a deer burst from the trees and lunged across the opening. She could hear the pack in close pursuit and she could not help herself and she threw her old bones into the chase. Within seconds the big male was running close beside her as they closed on the quarry. She felt his breath and could hear his lungs grabbing for fresh air. As in past hunts, she took the left side and the big male took the right. She knew what was next. With a lunge, the huge male grabbed a front leg of the deer and it rolled in a avalanche of powdered snow. With all her strength, she powered into the deer and within seconds all was quiet, except for the puffing of the rest of the pack as they caught up to their prey. The leader looked on as she ate her fill. The others waited until she was sated before they took their turn. As the pack moved off after they had cleaned up, the old wolf stood and watched. The leader stopped, looked back at her over his broad shoulder, lifted his huge head and raised his deep,
By Sue Ready each other since Step out of your comfortmeeting in the zone genre and enjoy Minnesecond grade. sota author Jennifer Schultz’s Each has matured debut novel, “Hearts of Prey.” and they always With a gripping storyline, she present as allies. has penned an entertaining They bicker and paranormal suspense/thriller fight; however, with a romantic element. The each always has elements of a world of shapethe other’s back shifters and werewolves that and respects the go back and forth between unspoken of the real and the supernatural which neither world entice readers to stay shares with the with this story right down to other. When the last page. The characters a new suitor, have authentic thoughts and Adrian, comes Jennifer Schultz reactions to situations that along and by Johyn Wetsroky the hip deep snow and bring outinterest a mouse or vole. Her teeth, they have been put into. The shows The timberwolf was pushing snow with its deep chest as some of them now broken, could no longer tear their way backdrop of a Minnesota wilderness complements in Shaka, suspicions arise. it wove its way along the creek bottom. Frost clung to its through bone and sinew. the storyline. Someofunanswered questions Shaka to connect whiskers at the sides the long, broad nose andthat steam rose It was begins a crystalline night inwith the woods. Snow sparkled on from the to nostrils. The wolf apaused at the that’s edge of the field every bough of fir and the scattered remain the end create conclusion open to other shifters but is unsure whombeaver ponds resembled interpretation. to trust and how to move forward. Shaka Reed, the heroine, is an outsider. This is not There are lives at stake; she is most only because she struggles to relate to other young vulnerable and is also conflicted women, but because she has a secret ability that sets about whom to lean on for help. her apart: she is a shapeshifter. In the deep woods of With the discovery of a crazed her Northern Minnesota home, never does she feel scientist who is kidnapping shapemore herself than when she is running through the shifters and studying them in the forest on animal feet. Her secret is known only to name of science, the plot thickens. her grandfather; not even her lifelong friend, Rena, The question arises: Can Shaka or the charming new stranger who keeps turning save the others, or will she be locked up alongside up in her path, Adrian, knows the truth of who she them and be totally helpless? like. With her independent attitude, she is true to really is. Character-wise, there are many things to like her being. This makes her strong and resilient. Her Shaka and Rena are best friends who have known about this story. Shaka is a character who is easy to BFF, Rena, is a curious add-in. Their relationship is very hot and cold throughout the tale (not your typical BFF interaction). Adrian, Shaka’s love interest, is not who he seems, we learn, as his deception is uncovered. The second half of the book picks up when the story evolves into a rescue mission with a lot of sus111Front Front St. Backus • backuslocker@tds.net 111 St.N., N., Backus • 218.947.4220 pense. Family bonding, a love of nature, and being backuslocker@tds.net true to oneself anchor this compelling story. To learn more about the author, where to purchase books, and details about her upcoming sequel to “Hearts of Prey,” check out Jennifer’s website for information: https://www.jenniferschultzbooks.com/.
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from Pine River Bakery By Sue Ready It’s a family endeavor at Pine River Bakery. Kristy Miller is the new owner and head baker, and her husband, Brian Chaffee, is head chef. He also provides culinary expertise as the site coordinator for the Pine River-Backus Family Center Community Meal Program. Daughter, Ami Miller, is the store manager there, and two other daughters, a tech-savvy son-inlaw and five grandkids all pitch in as needed. The Miller’s family has been in the hospitality industry for most of her life. Her parents ran the Crosslake Cafe when she was a teenager in the 1980s and she has worked in kitchens ever since. She and her husband have been chefs in the area for decades. Last fall, a new business opportunity opened up when Miller made a bakery stop with her granddaughter, Julie Sigafus. The previous owner asked if she was ready to buy the bakery. “I hadn’t really thought of it before,” Miller shares. “But when she showed me the kitchen and I saw the potential, I thought, maybe...” So, as the saying goes, it takes a village. It took Miller, her husband, Brian, and a lot of supporting family members to open the bakery the first week of January 2021. The Pine River community embraced the Miller/Chaffee family from the start. Miller notes, “We took over at a very challenging time with the pandemic. But because so many people were in our corner from day one and the community behind us from the beginning, we knew if we cooked it, they would come… and they have! We are still learning, but we have a pretty good idea of what our customers like. We hope to continue providing good donuts and baked goods to our town.” Pine River Bakery has added lunch options and event catering services. In the future, they plan to expand the catering services and keep up with current community needs. A daily lunch special includes homemade soup of the day and a baked item. Soups are changed every month, but they always have Minnesota’s favorite, chicken wild rice, available. The new owners have secured some of the original recipes, bringing back sawdust rolls and apple fritters. It’s comfort food at its finest.
The bakery is especially known for their donuts. They are fried fresh in the kitchen every morning. The breads are baked during the night, along with cinnamon and caramel rolls. They are not afraid to try out new baked items, such as Fruity Pebbles Doughnuts and other fun cereal concoctions. Around 3 a.m., one can expect heavenly smells coming from the oven. Currently, bakery items are not sold at any other locations. Their focus for now is their storefront. Miller notes that one of their biggest challenges at the beginning was adjusting to a night shift and then learning what the customers liked. The current challenge is keeping up with the business demand, but they are so grateful to be busy. “One of the most gratifying moments for me is when I am behind the scenes in the kitchen, and I can hear happy customers exclaim with excitement when they enter the store and see all the yummy choices in our display cases. Also, when I hear them enjoying the hospitality our staff provides. I love how we get to do this as a family,” Miller comments. The Pine River Bakery makes its presence known by supporting a variety of community events, such as The Fitness Fair. At this event, they provided tasty and healthful treats. They enjoy talking to others to get the word out. Their business grows by word of mouth due to the delicious goods they create. You can also find them on Facebook, keeping their customers informed with updated daily specials and posting tantalizing food photos. “Comfort food is what we do best. Our family has a long history of providing each other and [the] community with hospitality and good food. I think it’s in the DNA. Thank you, Grandma Bernice. She always had room for one more,” Miller observes. Customer service and high quality products are two keys for the Miller family to run a successful Pine River Bakery. It’s no surprise they were voted Number One Bakery from the Best of the Brainerd Lakes 2021Voters Choice Magazine. Be sure to make a stop soon as we all deserve a donut to brighten up our day!
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Kristy Miller (below, right) is the new owner and head baker of the Pine River Bakery. Her daughter, Ami Miller (below, left), is the store manager. Keeping it a family affair, Kristy’s husband, Brian Chaffee (above), is head chef. Other family members pitch in their time and talent as needed to fulfill the store motto: “You Deserve A Donut!”
e c I n i h T n O
8 Great Northern News | November 2021
By Alice Kae Wiese We are all familiar with the age-old adage, “No Ice is Safe Ice.” However, from experienced to novice ice anglers, this tends to be an overlooked expression that we put in the back of our minds as we continue about our pursuits, thinking it’s never going to happen to us. But are you prepared with the equipment and knowledge of what to do when you find yourself in a dreadful happenstance? My husband, Justin, and I are by no means new to the sport of ice fishing. This is a pastime that we, like so many of you, have enjoyed from a very young age on outings with our parents and grandparents. Years of countless expeditions on the frozen waters of Minnesota had provided us with an immeasurable amount of memories, adventures, knowledge, and experience. So we obviously knew what we were doing, how to do it, and how to prevent the disastrous from happening. Or so we thought... January 22nd, 2015, was a day much like any other for us, and is a day which we will never forget. We set out fishing at a local favorite of ours and spent the day hole-hopping, searching for an active bite in preparation for that week’s upcoming guide trips we had in the books. As the sun went down on a day full of fun and success, we decided to stay out a bit later with the anticipation of hitting the night-bite for walleyes, and at the time, we were happy we did! Having much success catching several walleyes, and keeping enough for a meal, we decided to pack up and call it a night. Had we known the major turn of events which was about to take place on our thus far blissful day, we might have planned things slightly differently, but as it always is, hindsight is 20/20. It was late and very dark, as we had a significant overcast blocking all light from the moon. The batteries on our GPS had died, but we were familiar with this body of water, so we were using the lights along the shore to judge our distance and determine our location. At the time, we were driving our ‘99 Chevy Silverado 1500, pulling a small utility trailer since we had just relocated our spear house earlier that day. My father would probably say otherwise if I were to say that I did in fact listen and pay attention to him as a child. But proof that some lessons did stick became obvious that night. I grew up fishing the Brainerd Lakes Area, as well as Mille Lacs. As a young girl, every time we were driving on ice, my father would remind me, “Never wear a seatbelt, and always, always, have a window down or the door open.” Having heard it so many times already, my usual response was “I know, Dad” (followed by an eye roll). Out of all the lessons that man has taught me, many of which I have prob-
ably forgot, I am thankful this is one he made sure was engraved in my brain. So there Justin and I were, driving across the lake as we had done so many times before. Neither of us wearing a seatbelt, my window rolled down, taking every precaution that we had learned. We noticed the lights of the lake access and began to close the distance, jokingly teasing each other back and forth about who was the better fisherman of the day, lost in casual conversation between husband and wife on our plans for the house we had just purchased, to what we needed to pick up at the grocery store. A conversation that was quickly interrupted as the nose of the truck suddenly took a dive. It all happened so fast, all I can remember seeing was sheets of ice coming up over the windshield, the entire truck going dark as the electronics and lights cut out, and icy water pouring into the cab. Immediately, we started scurrying out my window, and onto the roof of the truck, knowing fully well that the truck was sinking, but not knowing how deep. Fortunately for us, we were pulling that little trailer at the time. The trailer kept the back end of the truck hung up just long enough to allow us to jump into the box, and onto the trailer, before jumping again on to solid ice. As soon as our feet met the ice, the trailer coupler popped off the receiver and we watched the rest of what was visible of our truck sink, becoming fully submerged. We were cold and wet, standing on the ice, when we noticed lights from a vehicle come on next to a fish house a few hundred yards away. While Justin took off running to get help, I franticly searched my pockets for my cell phone. My first call was to 911; my second was to my mother. The gentleman that Justin took off running for, who has since become a close friend of ours, was kind enough to let us come in to warm up as we waited for the deputies to arrive, and then kind enough to offer us a ride home. He kept saying, “I’m happy I was still here!” as he had just gone out to start the truck to head home. The next morning, after an incredibly sleepless night, and still in utter shock, we headed back out to assess the damage and see what the heck had actually happened, and how it happened. We were still in complete disbelief. “Seriously, how could this happen?” I kept thinking to myself. There was no shortage of ice that year; we had 3-plus feet of ice in most areas, and it was to the point that we were frequently bottoming out our auger, even with the extension on. Where the truck now lay below the ice was a spot that we had driven over numerous times previously that year. Upon arriving to the scene, what had occurred became clear. Apparently, we had hit a pressure ridge. In most cases, when a pressure ridge forms, ice buckles up. This particular ridge
November 2021 | Great Northern News
Ice Thickness Guidelines
2” or Less - STAY OFF! 4” - Travel by foot 5”-7” - Snow Machine or ATV 8”-12” - Car or Small Pickup 12”-15” - Full Size Pickup
Ice Safety Tips 1.) Never go out alone; always try to bring a fishing buddy to accompany you. And always let someone else know where you will be heading. 2.) Stay knowledgeable and up to date on current ice conditions in your area by contacting local bait shops, area fishing forums, etc. had buckled down. That, combined with a thin coat of ice over what had been open water, and then covered by a fresh dusting of snow on top, made this hazard completely unnoticeable. With help from several great friends that day, and a little creative ingenuity, 15 hours later we were able to recover our beloved red Chevy. As we look back on the events of that night, even though this was a highly unwanted set back, we cannot help but feel grateful. We are very thankful for the way that this experience turned out. Every year, there are several similar occurrences that take place, and in so many of those cases, the victims are less fortunate than we were. We are thankful for the fantastic friends who came to our aid, and most of all, we are thankful that we were able to walk away from this horrible experience and are now able to go about our lives and continue the hobbies which we enjoy so, like ice fishing. Now we chalk it up to a very hard lesson learned. Remember: all of the accidents that happen on the ice are preventable, even this one. There is no fish that is ever worth the risk. Follow the Ice Safety Tips (compliments of the MNDNR Ice Safety Page and some from personal experience) to ensure your safety through your ice endeavors this year. Wishing you all “tightlines and screamin’-reels” this ice fishing season, but most of all, a safe one!
3.) GEAR UP! Always carry proper safety equipment with you, including a cell phone (or radio if you are traveling outside of cell signal), a change of clothes (I keep mine in a dry sack), a blanket, icepicks, throw rope, throwable flotation device, etc. 4.) Never travel on ice if you are unsure, and always check the thickness prior to traveling on it, especially with the use of a vehicle.This can easily be done with a chisel or drilling a few holes with the auger. 5.) Ice is rarely uniform in thickness throughout the lake; always be sure to continue checking thickness as you go along. 6.) Stay clear and keep distance from any open water, or places you know there is current or moving water underneath. 7.) Never travel close to shore. 8.) Spread out, whether walking or traveling with the use of motor vehicle. Keep a distance between you and your fishing party. 9.) Avoid using a vehicle if it is not necessary. 10.) While using a vehicle, be sure to travel slowly. Fast travel can create a wake underneath the ice, and hazards are more easily spotted at reasonable speeds. 11.) When in a vehicle, do not use seat belts, and also keep a window down or door ajar. This will allow for quick exit in the event of an emergency. 12.) “White Ice” or “Honeycombed Ice” is not strong ice; it is generally less than half the strength of clear ice. 13.) There are several great safety products available on today’s market that any avid ice fisherman should consider investing in; items such as flotation suits like the Ice Armor Ascent Suit by Clam Outdoors are revolutionizing ice travel. Much like a life jacket in the summertime, these full body suits allow the angler to stay afloat, should he or she fall through, and are incredibly warm and waterproof. Another important device to consider is the Nebulus Emergency Flotation Device, which is compact and light for easy storage, inflates in seconds, and is able to support the weight of up to three adults and a submerged ATV or snow machine upon full inflation.
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10 great northern news | November 2021
November 2021 | great northern news 11
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Old Mare’s Last Job
By Doug Taylor, Publisher Rosebud didn’t come in that morning. Lately, I had been checking on her religiously, as she was ready to foal and had been acting strange in that indefinable way that only a horse can. With a belly full of dread, I ran to the field. It didn’t take me long to find her. My worst fears confirmed, I dropped to my knees, wrapped my arms around her neck and embraced my fallen horse. Tears flooded my eyes, my breath heavy. “Rosebud!” I cried. She was lifeless on the ground with her young foal sharing her fate, lying still by her side. I felt what people describe as heartbreak. She was gone, her body still warm, but cooling fast. I sobbed, feeling as if innumerable needles were piercing my heart. True, she was old, but she had seemed invincible, and I foolishly thought she would live forever. Her poor foal! For a moment, I felt helpless, a feeling full of nothing, as I held Rosebud’s head on my lap with emotions flooding through me. I spoke softly to her as I stroked her dulling coat, speaking both gratitude and heartbreak. “I hope you knew how much I loved you… Rosebud, I love you,” I spoke, gaining volume. “You old darn grey mare! Why did you have to die? Oh God, I curse you, you son of a gun! Why did you have to take this one?!” I bellowed as I pushed my head on her shoulder and kissed her neck for the last time. I needed to drag myself to my feet and find a shovel. Easing myself up, I felt something brush against the back of my neck. I stiffened in alarm before turning to see who it was. A gangly grey Percheron colt stood behind me, wondering who or what the heck I was. I could tell the foal was scared but brave. I stood up and looked at the colt in wonder. “You’re alive,” I breathed. He was the miniaturized spitting image of his massive and magnificent mother. I thought of Rosebud’s kindness and the love that she had given to me and my family for so many years; the times we worked together logging, training new young horses. I remembered a horse that would never give in, was so unselfish and gave while expecting nothing in return. I reached out to touch Rosebud’s colt, his first human contact, and saw that he was spit clean. With a smile, I thought of the fine work Rosebud had done on her last job, cleaning her colt, and doing all she could to ready him for a life without her. I could almost see her tending to her colt and speaking to him in her own way: “It’s okay, son. I’m leaving you now, but everything is going to be all right.” She would have hid the pain in that same proud way she always ignored cold and discomfort. She would have let go easy… “Don’t worry, fella. You can consider me your mom,” I spoke to the orphaned colt in hushed, soothing tones before I turned to head back up towards the barn to gather supplies for his mother’s burial, thinking fondly of the massive mare and the many adventures her son and I would have as he pranced after me.
By Charlotte Swanson “I’ve got too much to do, Lil. I just can’t do the caroling thing with the Girl Scouts,” Maxine said as she crushed her cigarette out with defiance. She knew was not convincing Lillian over the telephone. “Honestly, can’t you think up some other contribution to mankind that wouldn’t take so much time?” She listened for a sign of weakness in her friend’s voice, for a loophole in her argument, but none came. Lillian would have made a great Mother Teressa, she thought. Lillian stopped at nothing, finally persuading Maxine by reminding her of her own daughter’s membership in the group. Maxine became angry as she heard herself agree to fill her van with carolers and drive to the assisted living facility to do her obligatory good deed for the season. When she arrived at the appointed pickup point, Maxine did not have a smile on her face. Lillian looked like Christmas itself. “Oh, come on, Max. Where’s your Christmas Spirit?” Maxine gave Lillian a long, dry stare. “Let’s just get this show on the road so we can get it over with. I’ve got thirteen people coming for dinner.” “I just got a text from Vanessa’s mother,” said Lillian. “Car trouble. She’s running a little late.” “You can’t be serious? I’ve still got gifts to wrap!” Maxine stomped her feet in the snow as much out of frustration as to keep warm. “We’ll give her a few minutes,” said Lillian. “Relax, will you?” “I’ll relax when all this is over, my company is gone, and I’m sitting in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine.” Vanessa’s mother pulled up and the late little girl scout scampered out, then squeezed into Maxine’s van with the rest of the giggling group. On the way to the assisted living facility, it began to snow. The girls marveled at how beautiful it was, but Maxine was irritated because the white stuff made the road slippery. When they pulled up to the assisted living facility, Lillian gathered the girls in the parking lot to practice before they went in. Maxine took the time to straighten the contents of the glove box in the van. “Max, will you at least try to enjoy yourself? This isn’t a sentence. It’s an adventure.” “I’m not Robinson Crusoe, Lil. I’m a woman with
three kids, a tree to finish trimming, and a sidewalk that will need shoveling by the time I get backhome.” Maxine held the door to the facility open, ushering the scouts through. As she shut the door and turned to face the room, she was struck by a force of sights, smells, and sounds for which she had not prepared. The girls huddled into a quiet mass of wonder while Lillian bounced around them, brushing snow off their shoulders, giving instructions to remove hats and mittens. The woman behind the desk in the entryway welcomed the group, directing them to the day room, where several chairs were set up for residents to watch their singing visitors. At the same time, doorways down the corridor began opening, curious figures peering out at the commotion. A slow shuffle of bent forms joined other figures in wheelchairs making their way to the commons area. Lillian gathered the scouts’ attention, leading them into the first number in their Christmas repertoire, “Oh Come All Ye Faithful.” Tentative at first, the children gradually responded to warm smiles offered by the elders gathering before them. Maxine fell in silently after the group. Her mind was forced into a trance as though it were getting too much of an overload and someone pulled the master switch to shut it down. The girls were in front of the big, bay window, which displayed everything outside fresh and glistening white. Inside, an artificial tree smelling of canned pine spray was draped with decorations and twinkling lights. The children broke into a rousing rendition of Deck the Halls while more residents ambled into the room. Lillian’s smile welcomed everyone. Her enthusiasm spread to the children who began singing out as loud as their voices would allow. Maxine shriveled behind the group. Her eyes were drawn to arthritic hands curled around walkers, spines hunched with years of burdens, thin gray-white hair vainly trying to cover bowed heads. Yet, she saw smiles spreading across wrinkled faces as bodies strained to lower themselves stiffly into chairs after an exhausting walk down the hallwa The children’s voices rang out, “Over the river and
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through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go…” Maxine heard wheezing, wet coughs from someone in the audience. Her stomach turned. Panic seized her. She fought to keep herself in the day room. Suddenly, Lillian was beside her. She put her arm around Maxine and led her, with the rest of the carolers, to a manger scene near the bay window as they began to sing “Away in a Manger.” “Sing,” she whispered as her arm tightened around Maxine’s shoulder. Sing? Thought Maxine. She felt as though Lillian’s arm was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. Then, she felt a tiny, familiar hand slip into her own quivering one. Blinking away moistness in her eyes, she looked down at her daughter, smiling up at her. For the longest moment, Maxine stared at her daughter’s upturned face. She was taken with the child’s purity and innocence, just like, she thought, the figure in the manger must have looked to another mother such a very long time ago. Maxine slowly lowered herself to her knees, wrapped her child in her arms, and allowed her tears to flow. The little girl clung to her mother, not understanding what was wrong but knowing the hug was helping. After a moment, Maxine felt Lillian’s hand on her shoulder. She drew in a deep breath, gathering the strength to stand. Wiping her eyes, Maxine felt her chest fill with peace. With her next breath, she joined her longtime friend, their group of carolers, the residents, and even staff at the assisted living facility as they all broke into song, “Silent night, holy night…”
12 Great Northern News | November 2021
Christmas on a North Dakota farm in 1929 By Rich Engstrom Going through some papers in a drawer, I ran across an article my other’s cousin sent to me after my mother passed away. It was written in December of 1979 by Norma Neperud. Norma lived on the North Dakota prairie with two siblings. It was December of 1929, just three months after the start of the Great Depression. The Depression didn’t affect them that much in that they were already poor and lived off much of what they produced on the farm. The family lived in a large farmhouse with the nearest electric power and gas lines miles away. They heated with lignite coal and used no more than a combined two gallons of gasoline and kerosene a week in lamps and lanterns. Norma’s father had a car, but it was used only once a week to go to town for supplies. The farm used 16 mixed breed horses – Clydesdales, Percheron, and Morgan horses, which were used for all the farm needs. They would attend church on one Sunday a month as the minister had four churches to provide services. After the service, the church members would retire downstairs to enjoy a Scandinavian potluck. She remembers that Christmas gifts were created by the giver. “Knitting, crochet, embroidery and sewing needles and many treadle type sewing machines were actively going under the guidance of loving hands from September on.” They created stuffed toys, caps, scarves, socks, tablecloths, mittens, gloves, dresser scarves, doilies, dresses, aprons, shirts and neck scarves. Pocket knives carved wall plaques, animals and birds. All these found their way under the tree or into stockings at Christmas. What I found interesting was that she talked about spending hours looking at the wish books – the mail order catalogues that arrived with their beautiful array of gifts. (My sister and I would do the same in the early 1950s.) Norma and siblings would look at dresser sets consisting of mirror, brush and comb, crystal, china, clothes, and oh! – the toys. There were bride dolls, baby dolls, Raggedy Ann dolls, flapper dolls, teddy bears, wagons, sleds, tricycles, foot propelled scooters, wind-up toys, such as the Tonnerville Trolley
and Andy Gump’s car, train sets, doll dishes, rubber balls, games such as checkers and marbles, toy soldiers, Jack-In-The Box, Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, clocks, watercolors, crayons and books. Going to school, the family youngsters and their friends would play a game. “We’d look at them with our friends and ask one another, ‘If you could have just one thing, what would you have?’” They had fun talking about what they would want but they knew these items would not be under the tree on Christmas Eve. She wrote about the school program (in a one room school room) where there were poems, songs and character lines in both a funny play and the recreation of the Nativity. “Protestants and Roman Catholics** joined together in this Christmas program and party. We drew names to exchange gifts, created Christmas decorations and cards out of construction paper, and, Oh yes! We sold Christmas seals for one cent each. If you sold ten cents worth, you received a pin. Our parents usually bought those ten stamps. “Santa would show up and distributed our gifts to one another and our gifts to the teacher. She, in turn, always found enough money in a very slim paycheck to give each of us a gift such as pencils, erasers, rulers, etc. The school board provided apples, oranges, nuts and candy.” By mid-December, the snow lay on the ground in North Dakota and the temperature plummeted. “As I heard the story of Jesus’ birth in a stable, I thought He must have been very cold. I didn’t think of Bethlehem as having a climate different from ours!” Getting ready for Christmas, pigs were butchered and from them came sausage, headcheese, hams and fresh pork. Her mother would take the fat and rendered lard and made homemade soap which she scented with sassafras. The kitchen was busy baking and using recipes that had been made by generations of Norwegian housewives. “There were ringlet shaped Berline Kranza, Fattimagn Bakkles (jokingly called poor man’s biscuits because they were so rich), Sandbakkles (sand tarts in molds), Rosettes, Kringle (shaped like a figure eight), molasses cookies, butter cookies, Spita cookies, and nut cookies, among others. Mother also baked lefse (a thin flat potato pancake
which is served with butter and sugar), flatbrod (a hard flat crisp bread), Julekaga (the Norwegian yeast bread that is flavored with cardamom and filled with cherries, citron, raisins and nuts) and both fruit and butter cakes. In 1929, one could not find a Christmas tree within the state, so the family would have to buy a tree that was shipped from the Rocky Mountains. “Decorations on the tree consisted of paper chains, popcorn and cranberry chains, a metal star on the top, candles and glass balls and icicles for the branches. Under my father’s watchful eye, the candles would be lit for just a short while on Christmas Eve. As gifts were wrapped and placed under the tree, I used to crawl under it to see if I could guess the contents of the packages.” I would bet that this is still done by children today as I know I also did this as a child. Christmas was a big family event back then with a number of relatives getting tougher on Christmas Eve and the mother of the house leading her sisters and sisters-in-law cooking on a black cook stove. “The menu would consist of things such as Sot Sopper, which is a sweet soup made of prunes, raisins, orange and apples, minute tapioca, sugar, cinnamon, cloves and water, and there was lutefisk, which was a Norwegian Christmas must.” There were meatballs and meats such as turkey, ham, chicken or the goose that had not too long before chased us. There was pickled herring, headcheese, assorted pickles, jellies and jams, canned green peas and beans, mashed potatoes, Julekaga , rolls, fruitcake, the assorted cookies, chocolate cake and salad.” “The grown-ups always ate first, but we children didn’t mind – we were enjoying being together.” After dinner, we would open the gifts under the tree. We then went home to open our presents under a highly decorated spruce. Then we also believed in and enjoyed visits from Santa Claus, so on Christmas morning, we found our stockings filled with fruit, nuts, hard candy, and hand-created gifts that were strangely similar to those Mother had been working on before Christmas. There also might be one or two gifts we had seen in the catalogs. “When our Christmas holiday was over, we returned to school and enjoyed hearing and telling of the good things Christmas has brought to each of us. It was a happy time.” **When immigrants from Europe settled in a certain area, they would write back to relatives about the good farmland to be found in the US. So, certain areas would be settled by friends and relatives who came from the same area in Europe – bringing with them their religion. Small towns would spring up and therefore you would have the farmers and the townsfolk coming from the same area in Europe and with the same religion. Even though there was a public school, most of the children were of the same religion and brought with them their ethnic customs.
The Fish House
By John Wetrosky Albert nailed the four by six-foot fish house together on the shores of Pelican Lake that late November day. He stood back to admire his creation made of scrap wood and bent nails. Inside stood a small stove made from a five-gallon gas can. Albert had formed the stovepipe from pieces of tin he found at the neighborhood dump. It was a masterpiece of northern Minnesota engineering. Late November breezes were blowing from the northwest foretelling colder weather on the doorstep. It would be only a matter of days before the surface of Pelican Lake became a total sheet of early ice, the best ice time for fishing walleyes and northern pike. Albert couldn’t wait to be one of the first to tug his fish house out across the frozen slab in front of his cozy house that sat on a bluff above the lake. He had heard that a new family had moved into the bay behind his house, and he had met a young man at a local bait shop that belonged to that family. He seemed friendly enough young man who talked as if he liked to fish. Albert found out that this young fisherman didn’t have a fish house, having just recently moved to the lake. After a short time, Albert invited the new neighbor to share his new fish house. Albert knew just where to place the fish house, just off an underwater point that had proven itself to be a fish magnet in the past. The day came when four inches of ice capped the lake, and it was time to slide the fish house out across the expanse to the “point.” Albert and his newfound friend pulled and pushed the fish house across the clear ice. There was no snowmobile to do the job, just muscle power. “Here we are!” Albert exclaimed to his accomplice. “Let’s anchor the house here and we’ll get set up for the
night.” That’s when the trouble started. Once inside the house, after lighting wood in the small stove and getting settled in, Albert proposed that the two of them have a friendly competition on how many walleyes each might catch during the season. The young man graciously declined Albert’s challenge, but Albert insisted. “I’ll keep a record on the wall here and we’ll each mark down each fish we catch.” Albert seemed to be confident in his talent of bringing fish up through the ice hole. After some coaxing, the young man caved in and said, “Well, I don’t like to fish for competition, but if you really want to do this, Albert, this is your fish house, so you call the tune.” The contest was on. One thing that Albert hadn’t figured out was that this young fisherman was years ahead of him in the technology of fishing. Where Albert was using thirtypound test, black braided line with a hefty hook tied to the end, the youngster was using six-pound test monofilament line with a small hook attached. Albert was using a bobber the size of a baseball. His fishing partner was using a bobber the size of a thimble. Albert scoffed at the young man’s rigging. “You’ll never catch much on that kind of rig,” he boldly told his friend. “I’ve been fishing for thirty years, and this is the kind of tackle you need.” The first night in the fish house, the score was Albert: 1 and his partner: 4. The second night, Albert was skunked, and his invited guest caught three. The third night, Albert caught two walleyes and four came up on the ice from his neighbor’s hole. The trend continued. Albert was feeling like the Vikings in a Super Bowl game. The competition was becoming heated and Albert’s young companion
November 2021 | Great Northern News 13
begged Albert to stop keeping score. Albert was becoming more frustrated with each foray to the fish house. One night, when the score was tied, Albert hooked a nice fish, which put up a valiant struggle. Albert chuckled as he looked down the hole at what would finally be a winning fish for the night. As he gazed into the hole, he let out a howl of jubilation. Just then his false teeth tumbled out of his jaws, hit the water in the ice hole and gently drifted to the bottom of 22 feet of water. The fish was also lost when Albert plunged his arm down into the hole in a vain attempt to rescue his sinking dentures. The two of them tried several techniques to rescue Albert’s teeth but to no avail. To add insult to injury, he sat on his wire-rimmed glasses after their illfated attempts. Albert’s glasses sat on his nose with a curious tilt. Things went downhill after that. Albert became belligerent and accused his newfound fishing friend of using illegal tactics. He found himself sneaking out to the fish house when he knew the young
man was working. He actually started to lie about the amount of fish he had caught. Finally, the youngster stopped coming out, lest he enter into a heated argument with Albert about who knew more about fishing. The end of the ice fishing season found Albert towing his fish house back on shore mid-February. He had long since burned the competition sheets of paper in the fish house stove. He wanted no one to know the fate he had experienced. In fact, he burned the fish house on shore that spring. It seemed to some kind of a mental release to Albert. He could always build another fish house. He just wouldn’t be inviting anyone else to share his space. Albert’s teeth are still out there resting among the rocks on the bottom of Pelican Lake, buried by the silt of time and waiting to be found by some archeologist a million years from now. They’ll wonder how they got there. It all happened in a fish house. This is a true story.
Coffee: The Next Generation
By Mike French If you’re a coffee connoisseur, it’s a great time to be alive. Coffee has entered a new generation, perhaps even a paradigm shift. What am I talking about? I’m talking about the age of the microroastery. Microroasters are usually small independent coffee roasters with a passion for quality and freshness. Large roasting companies dominated the early 20th century marketplace but most are now part of large conglomerates such as Kraft Foods and Proctor and Gamble. The concept of centralized roasting and packaging yielded a very efficient and cost-effective way of processing large amounts of coffee as cheaply as possible. However, the effort to minimize costs and maximize profits, along with the purchasing of cheaper
and lesser quality green coffees, drove the quality of the coffee experience and the amount of coffee consumed, to the lowest point in recent history. Enter the mermaid – i.e., Starbucks (along with a handful of less well known small regional roaster retailers). These retailers ushered in a coffee revolution with the introduction of milk-based and flavored coffee drinks. This change in roasting philosophy and increased quality of product fueled a new level of popularity for coffee across the country. Twenty years later, nearly every major food franchise is offering its own brand variation of coffee productions. Consumption is at an all-time high, but with an impending worldwide coffee shortage, the price of green coffees has been driven to new heights. With the increase in popularity and consumption, a new group of educated consumers has developed who all want the utmost in quality and freshness. Centralized roasting (large roasting plants) and mass distribution (long times in transit) are just not scientifically compatible with high coffee quality and freshness. Coffee, especially after roasting, is a perishable food product. Jerry Baldwin, CEO of Peet’s Coffee said it best, “As roasters, we are all in the same game – getting the coffee out of our roasters and into the consumer’s cup as quick as we can.” Most people are unaware of the rapid degradation
of coffee quality with exposure to oxygen, moisture, heat and ultraviolet light. Coffee will actually off-gas (lose) half of its volatile aromatics in one week at room temperature. If you increase the heat, it loses even more. What you are losing is flavor. Your sense of smell accounts for 80 percent of what you interpret as flavor. Considering the long time in transit and storage on shelves, the coffees sold to the public are greatly decreased in quality of product. Another enemy of coffee that reduces its quality in the cup is oxygen. Coffee, as it leaves the roaster, contains about six percent oxygen. One percent is all that is needed to cause oxidative rancidity in nine to ten days. Oxidative rancidity is an indication of age that can easily be identified by its somewhat sweet, yet pungent aroma. After oxidation, the coffee soon becomes stale and lifeless. Presently, even the best packaging systems cannot protect from this phenomenon. So, how do we get coffee that has this remarkably enticing aromatic quality, and have the entire flavor we are looking for? Enter the next generation: the local microroaster and coffee merchant who can deliver coffee fresher than any other competitor. My advice to those seeking a truly unparalleled coffee experience and education is to visit a microroastery. The coffee will be rich and full flavored; the aroma will be brightly alive and intoxicatingly sweet. You may find out what you’ve been missing!
14 great northern news | November 2021
November 2021 | great northern news 15
Ice Fishing is Quickly Approaching By Chris Haugene Having been a fi shing guide on Leech Lake for several years, Kevin Joslyn has stories that rival any others. He guides in both the summer and the winter months; he’s been there and he’s defi nitely done that—from a boat or the ice castle fi sh houses from which he guides after freeze up. However, one of his greatest stories starts after the spring spawn, when Kevin was working down on Ten Mile Lake. It was there that he noticed a large fi sh close to the shore feeding. He walked up to it slowly, and the big fi sh didn’t spook. He got closer and still no rapid escape from the fi sh. When he got closer and closer, it looked bigger and bigger. As he got to within a few feet of the monster fi sh he made his move and reached down and scooped it up onto shore from the shallow waters. The massive lunker measured out at 32 1/2 inches long. Just three and a half inches shy of three feet. Kevin explained the anomaly as the fi sh being physically exhausted due to spawning. He subsequently had the great fi sh mounted. Kevin was born in Dayton, Minnesota, and has been in Walker for close to two decades. He’s been fi shing since he was a kid and when he was old enough, he found a job at Horseshoe Bay Resort. One day, when he was working, the former owner of the resort, Ron Statchura, asked Kevin what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said he wanted to be a fi shing guide. Thus, his beginning began. With a dozen years under his belt, he is keeping what he sees as a dying industry alive. His own words describe the fi shing guide business as a fading industry. Kevin says that he is one of only two guides around Leech Lake that are under the age of forty and that a lot of the others in the business are of the older school, from a bygone era. His philosophy regarding his clients tends to rub against the norms of the recent past when it comes to guiding. Kevin is trying to educate his clients.
He is trying something a little different from the days of old. “I want people to ask me questions when we’re out on the water,” said Kevin. “I want them to learn when they are out on the lake, so I encourage a lot of what the older guys tend to shy away from,” he said. And ask him questions they do. Granted, he begins the day by telling his clientele that he wants them to ask questions and that part of his service is to help instruct them to become better fi shermen, and this really reveals a sea change in the guide’s ethos. Once, the thought was to keep the secrets of your trade just that, a secret. Therefore, securing that which the layperson does not know, and, in turn, safeguarding the information that was paramount to the guide staying the guide, i.e., job security. Or the illusion of job security. With as much information as is readily available at the touch of a key, the principles of fi shing are still murky at best. Habits and feeding times in the winter and summer as well as the conditional response from the fi sh regarding low-light, oxygen displacement in the water, and temperature all come into the equation. And there are the biological imperatives, such as their eye sensitivity as well as their lateral line that also affect behavior. A post on thescientifi cfi sherman. com (8-22-17) states that “The lateral line consists of a series of cells (neuromasts, hair cells) in a line along the side of fi sh. These cells can detect small movements and vibrations in the surrounding water and play an important role in predator response, schooling, and orientation. This predatory response is key for anglers, allowing fi sh to home [sic] in on and strike at bait and lures in motion. In many cases, the lateral line will be as important or more important than sight for predator species of fi sh.” Kevin explains the lateral line as, “if you have a bucket full of minnows,
and one of the minnows is wounded or has a broken spine and you dump them into the lake, a walleye will be able to pick out that one wounded minnow from the whole school.” An amazing characteristic for those of us who hadn’t a clue as to how effi cient and, quite frankly, predatory walleye are. Biology is pertinent as well as environmental conditions from winter fi shing to summer, but if they are the rule there is an X factor that is the exception. His explanation is close to the idea that the world is analog and not digital, and that sometimes things just don’t add up regarding why you can fi nd yourself in the middle of a feeding frenzy, pulling up fi sh after fi sh on a regular basis. Location is a big one. From how crappies are displaced at different depths in the water to how a blizzard can relocate
fi sh to different areas, fi guring their location is obviously key, but experience pays dividends in this regard. These are just a few of the lessons that he tries to impart to his customers, knowing that having the information is one thing. The other variable that is an absolute must is experience. Getting on the water and wetting a line is a thing of beauty. However, where you are, if it’s winter or summer, what time of day it is, how shallow or deep you are, what kind of bait you are using, temperature and cloud cover all tend to play into whether you will be taking in the sights or reeling in fi sh. Experience on the water matters. “Being fl exible on the ice and in the water is also a must,” explains Joslyn. “I see some out there grinding and grinding on a single spot for hours
upon end. I like to give a spot its due, but after a while of not catching anything, I think it’s important to be able to try new spots,” he said. In the winter, if a spot doesn’t yield any bites, he hops in his truck to check other possible fi shing holes by drilling and checking for fi sh. That way, he can give his clients the best possible experience on the ice. This too lends itself to a changing ethos in the guide service. And, like new chefs that want the world to know how they make their signature dishes, instead of hiding their secrets, Kevin is offering as much information as his clients can absorb in order to grow the industry. And it’s working. A lot of his repeat clientele are fi shermen that have been coming to him for years. They typically stay in the area for a long weekend or a week and have Kevin take them out on the fi rst day or two so they can get a refresher course or just general knowledge on the current conditions and how to maximize their success while in town. He’s also been seeing a lot of people come to Leech Lake that don’t normally fi sh these waters. With the situation at Mille Lacs and a few other lakes in the area, there are more and more guides coming from the Brainerd and St. Cloud areas. This is both a good and bad thing. It’s good for the local economy and for the guide industry, but the lake(s) in this area are seeing more and more pressure from anglers, which does infl uence the fi sh population. This should ease up as the
situation in the Mille Lacs area subsides, but for now, it’s a reality here at Leech Lake for the guides and their bottom line. One question people often ask is, “How do you charge?” Kevin, like most other guides, keeps it pretty simple. You can reserve a half-day (typically four hours) or a full day in the winter or summer. His rates tend to be a little less than others as he is guiding for himself and not working under a corporate entity that would otherwise take a cut of the proceeds. In the winter months, he partners with Gage Savage, who runs Hardwater Rentals. He’s on Facebook and his contact number is 218-259-0244. They are booked for the fi rst few weeks of the season and they reserve guiding services on a fi rstcome, fi rst-served basis. They guide for perch, walleye, and crappies in the winter. It’s well worth noting that they regard early ice as one of the best times to go in the winter. Places to fi nd a guide include local resorts and bait shops that carry lists of guides and contact information. Kevin still has a good relationship with Horseshoe Bay and can be found by calling there or any other Anderson family resort around Leech Lake. He’s also listed with Reeds in Walker and can be found on Facebook at Kevin Joslyn Fishing. His phone number is 218-760-7049 and his email is joz1137@gmail.com. He says the best ways to get a hold of him are either on Facebook or by phone.
Kevin Joslyn is a successful fishing guide in the summer and winter.
Winter
16 Great Northern News | November 2021
Story and Photos By Mark J. Harlow
Long after the leaves have fallen, the most divisive of the four seasons is upon us. There are plenty who despise winter and there are those who embrace it. This article is about the latter and why winter can be enjoyed or tolerated even more if you are in the “despise camp.” I think we can learn a lot from toddlers and children when it comes to winter. Kids love snow. They play, slide, giggle, make snowmen, throw snow balls and make snow angels. Were you that way as a child? So, why is it that people change to the negative side of winter? There may be many reasons and many theories, but in this author’s opinion, the main culprit may be... not being prepared, clothing-wise. Remote car starters are another option well worth the money. So, why are there people who like or even love winter? Perhaps it is because of our heritage. Ice fishing, snowmobiling, snow boarding, cross country skiing, skating, snowshoeing, walking, jogging and even surfing on Lake Superior for the craziest. There is nothing more soothing than coming in from the winter outdoors to a warm meal, great
conversation with your loved ones or friends and sitting next to a fireplace. With all of the vast improvements in winter clothing, footwear, gloves and the like, there really is no reason one should be uncomfortable. If you live in the larger metro areas outside of the northland, why not look into some of the many programs that the park systems offer for outdoor opportunites. There are also great educational programs offered by some of the more notable retail stores for the outdoor industry like REI, Gander Mountain or Cabela’s. Community education... one day programs are another option thoughout the state. Once you do learn how to prepare for the winter activities, why not venture up to the northland and take a weekend mini getaway? There are many fantastic areas of our state to enjoy and more importantly...appreciate winter. For me, personally, winter has many positives. So, if you are the “despise camp,” why not revisit your inner child, make a new effort with proper clothing and education and try to appreciate the beauty of the bug-free season known as... winter.
Mark J. Harlow is a National Award Winning Nature & Wildlife photographer from Crosslake, MN. He is a native Minnesotan, who is considered by many groups and organizations as one of the top photographers on the scene today. His website will be down until summer of 2022, but you can follow him on Facebook. He also has a gallery in the Kicks Building in Crosslake, MN. Please check their website for store hours.