JustNorth Kids Articles

Catch and release is the opposite supposedly, of stringered and dinnered? I worked just as hard to catch the one I let go...

Tire tracks in the snow say someone else has been here recently. Boot and dog tracks leading up to the cabin tell me who. I have no reason to wonder why. He and his dog came here for the same reason my dog and I are now here.

Over the years I would see a burp sized bubble come up and think to myself, boy the lake sure is gassy today. But that never made sense. No lake I know suffers from indigestion or irritable bowel syndrome. Only now do I know it’s just a big giant fish down there makin fish words. Big bubbles equaled big fish...

You may not know this but I help out in the township where I live. I don’t just fish, fish, fish all the time. Some of the guys around my place say that’s not the case and a pastor gave up trying to make me a fisher of men. . One neighbor’s wife said I row a boat more than drive a car, but I can prove I help out...

Some folks learn to fish by reading magazines, watching videos or actually going fishing. Other folks take fancy exotic fishing vacations, hire a guide with a thick fluent accent, sip wine and dine on extravagant pasta.  They learn the fishing lingo, one mouthful at a time, so to speak...

The perch was not what I set out to catch. As it turned out, to my recall, probably the best perch fishing I ever had. I was bragging all week about my new found walleye Mecca, so in an attempt to show off my daytime walleye fishing expertise, I soughed across the snow, two daughters of eve in tow...

Somewhere in those trees is more than a portage trail. The very path is the absence of trees. One foot fall at a time, in an incessant pounding of mine and yours, trod by our favorite foot gear creates and maintains the portal to which I will pass through. Me and my mind must hike this hall...

I'm not sure how old I was when I accompanied my dad to my first wildlife club meeting of many. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was his suggestion, my request or mom's way of getting me out of her hair for a few hours. Whatever the case, something stuck with me...

It hasn’t been a good icicle season so far. Matter of fact it hasn’t been good in several years. Those crystalline daggers normally show up on my downspouts snow choked over flows...

Something punched the river from under the surface, my line is snapped tight. My arms are thrown forward and I’m grabbing at the rod I already hold...