Callahan Lake

Adventures in Wisconsin

Memoirs From Lake Callahan

In a failed attempt to check out the local 'color' we roll the dice at a place called the 'snowshoe'. We've been warned that this is a Native American Patronized place which is why I chose this little watering hole. The precursor Dude put on the place was something like "Don't go to the Snowshoe!" equating to; I gotta see this. Once in the joint a lovely Caucasian couple asked us if we were lost- No I told them, we've come to wet our whistles & maybe shot some pool. The nice couple offer to go with us to the Casino up the road but of course being the adventurer I am I declined for both my spouse & I. (warning# 2 if you are counting...) We get a beverage & engage in a game of billiards. Not just any ol'game of pool - this was Indian Rules. We cleared the table finishing with the 8 ball in the corner as called by my spouse. We won, NOPE - the opponents of reddish skin informed us that this had to touch a rail &the shot was no good. (#3) Ok, so we recover the ball then bank the next shot. We won, NOPE - it had to go in the last hole our last ball went in. We started a new game, when we won again & again they said NOPE - I countered with how many times do we need to win this game before you buck up & rack? The long haired man told us that this was their house rules so I then referred to them as Indian Rules & politely told him what he could do with his Indian Game of Pool. It got a little blurry after that but I do recall throwing money at the bartender as spouse; sounding much like Archie Bunker growled 'stifle woman' at me.

We were fishing for Muskie on lake Callahan. I was winning the first, biggest, most tournament & still to date am way ahead of spouse though he may never acknowledge that fact. I tossed the best light tackle rig out into the murky depths to discover a nasty backlash had occurred during one of the previous battles. I kept the reel open and released a substantial amount of line to dislodge the hockle. As I reeled up the slack, it occurred to me that my rather large light bait had entangled itself in the weedy bottom. Insult added to injury, I snap up and back on the line to set it free of the bottom vegetation and send it hurdling through the air like a space shuttle launch. Still feeling disgruntled by the misfortune of the chain of events I was not expecting a 45lb muskie to launch up & out of the water right behind my lure as if he meant business. Fully exposed in the daylight off the surface of the water by at least 5 inches, this beast looked like it could fly. In shock & horror I screamed "Holy Ol' Fuck" & all the other anglers on the lake joined in a unified chorus of laughter mixed with repeating refrains. I speed reeled in and thanked all that was holy that I didn't catch that monster & put the pole up for the night.