We are in the midst of summer and it sure feels all right by me. The summer months are meant for us Minnesotans to take full advantage of.

Going on vacation was a big thing to my family when my kids were growing up. I sometimes think it was me that was more pumped about going than the rest of the family.

As the years passed and the boys grew their enthusiasm seemed to dwindle. I noticed this because each year I got less and less help preparing for the big trip north. When the boys were young you were almost tripping over them because they wanted to help, but as they grew into their teens you just about had to hunt them down and then it seemed like an obligation to them rather than an exciting time. They now have kids of their own and they are excited about going again. It seems like there is a pattern there.

I don’t think they ever did lose interest in going, but they just had other things, like teenager stuff, that seemed more important at the time.

There were years when I was growing up that I never got to go on a real vacation. But I had an uncle named Orville Winjum who had built a cabin on Lake Tetonka, and I used to go to the lake with him and help mow lawn and do work around the cabin.

Uncle Orv loved to talk, and he would talk from the time we left Albert Lea until we pulled into the driveway at the lake. He seemed to know who lived, or used to live, in every farm place between Albert Lea and Waseca. Needless to say we needed the radio except for noon, when Paul Harvey was on, and even then he couldn’t quite bring himself to listen to all of old Paul without getting in a few words of his own. I don’t think Paul ever did get the last word in.

He never seemed to do much fishing because he said he never had the time. He enjoyed people and talking and I guess fishing would have just gotten in the way. In that respect, Uncle Orv and my dad were kind of alike, but that’s where the similarities ended. Strong Republican and a Strong Democrat, and that always led to some pretty heated discussions, which my dad seemed to take pleasure in starting.

I always enjoyed the trips to the lake with my uncle, not just because I was going to a different lake, but because I knew that I could fish. I always held out hope of catching that elusive &uot;lunker&uot; that had thus far eluded the bag of tricks which I had lurking inside my tackle box.

I also enjoyed the time spent with Uncle Orv and listening to his nonstop stories of how things were and, of course how with the right Republican in office, things would be good. That was a one-sided political discussion because I had no real interest at that age.

Uncle Orv had an old blue and white Dodge or Plymouth, which was his family car, his farm car, his field car, his Sunday-go-to-church car and his all-around car. He used to smoke cigars (I think he chewed more of them than he lit) but he always had one hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

When he chewed on them, he would inadvertently spit the small pieces of tobacco out of the corner of his mouth, and they eventually lined the whole left side of the windshield on the inside of the driver’s side. A thick blue haze covered the rest of the windshield. I was always astounded at the fact that he could actually see to drive down the road.

Whenever we would get to the cabin I would have to do some work first but he also made sure I had time to fish. There was always plenty of good food. Uncle Orv loved to eat and I don’t think he actually owned a shirt that didn’t have a gravy stain or some kind of food stain on the front of it.

I loved fishing off the dock at night because I discovered a pattern that would start just after sunset and last until about 11. The bullheads would start biting, then suddenly stop, and soon the walleye would take over and bite continuously for about half an hour to 45 minutes and as fast as they started they would stop and it would be back to catching bullheads again. That’s when you knew it was time to quit.

I will always remember Uncle Orv, and the fun I had, whenever I fish that lake. I guess I probably fished that lake more than any other except for Fountain when I was growing up.

I can still remember the spots on Fountain where the sunnies I caught were big and where the &uot;old-timers&uot; used to fish and come home with a limit of slab crappie. I will try some of these spots again, and who knows, maybe they will still produce the same results.

The fish are always there if you take the time to find them.

Until next time &uot;Good Luck and Good Fishin.’&uot;

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Remember the troops that are still over there serving our country.