The Old Man’s Lucky Lure

The Northern Pike is one of my favorites.

I have been fishing for pike for as long as I can remember. I started fishing with my father when I was barely old enough to hold a fishing rod. By the time I was ten, I was fishing on my own and loving every minute. That was the same year my uncle Dan, who was six months my senior and should have known better, and I decided to raid the old man’s tackle box and borrow Lucy—his lucky lure.

The taboo Red Daredevle in hand, Dan and I worked our way down to one of Ontario’s many hidden lakes—our secret spot tucked in behind the family cabin. We spent most of our summers growing up around that lake, and I could probably write a book about our adventures, as there were many. Dan and I tied up our lures and full of youthful confidence began to cast.

It wasn’t long, maybe five or six casts, and I got a hit. WHAM! It was the kind of strike typical of the mighty Northern. He hit hard and bent my rod to its limit.

Doing his best to keep me calm, Dan yelled “Bring it in slowly, Jack! Be careful, give him some slack.” Then, SNAP went my line, and with it my hopes. Even worse, there went Lucy, the old man’s lucky lure.

Dan, knowing quite well that I was in the sweet spot, laughed and even went so far as to rub it in. Then, like a true angler, he resumed casting in rapid fire motion. And, it paid off. Another strike, and Dan’s line was all over the lake.

Now, it was me doing the hollering, as Dan played out the monster fish. After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled the exhausted pike onto the beach. It was then that our awe quickly turned to disbelief, for not only did Dan catch the biggest pike ever pulled out of Horseshoe Lake, but embedded in the pike’s side was Lucy.

The family still talks about the big pike caught that day, and Dad still has Lucy. He can often be seen holding and admiring that dented, scratched-up and tooth-bitten lure, and telling anyone who will listen about how lucky it is.

Another of the old man’s beliefs is that it’s better to let a sleeping bear lie. I agree