The gusty winds that blew us off the lake had calmed down. Dinner had been filleted, fried and eaten. The sky was just turning delightfully red. And the mosquitos were just getting ready to attack when Dad and I decided to make a few more casts to round out the day.
“It’s strange, we’ve got such a beautiful campsite overlooking a deep, flowing channel, and despite making dozens of casts neither one of us has caught anything from camp,” commented Dad in between casts.
I nodded my head, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that nothing was biting. And then there came a tug on my line.
“I’ve got one!” I exclaimed. The fish bit with some force but wasn’t displaying much of a battle. “This could be a small walleye! It hit well but isn’t doing much now.”
I lifted in my catch with a frown. My six inch lure had produced a 10 inch fish.
“Doesn’t count. We still haven’t caught anything from camp,” said Dad with a smile.