Twinsies

Kora and Me - October 2022

We’re both 56, Kora and me.  I remember like yesterday when we got her.  It was the fall of 2014, and after checking various agencies, we settled on an organization out of Mukwonago, Wisconsin; across the Stateline and just a little to the Northeast of us.  They apparently rescued dogs from the state of Mississippi and brought them North to a no-kill shelter.  Once a month the dogs that they had were brought to the Tractor Supply Co. in Mukwonago where you could look at the dogs available.

We already had a dog at the time.  Her name was Kati, which was short for Mukaday; the Ojibwe word for black, as she looked like a black German Shepherd.  She was 10 years old when our family of four hopped into our van to go look for a second dog.  My aunt and uncle had always said it was good to get a new dog when your present dog was older and could help pass along some of the desired traits and expectations.  It made sense and so we decided it was the appropriate time to expand our pack.

The dogs on display came in all shapes, sizes, breeds, and ages.  I specifically remember a scrappy little dog that looked like it was 100 years old, cuddling up beside an older couple.  The man had a little difficulty bending down to pick the scraggly thing up, and his wife had to steady herself as she was pulling along an oxygen tank that allowed her to breathe freely.  It seemed to be a match made in heaven though, as the couple laughed and giggled to themselves, while the ancient little dog licked their hands and wagged its tail.  Neither side seemed to believe the good fortune that they had found themselves in.

Our family was looking for a puppy, and the first one that we looked at was as cute as a button.  It was a tiny, black lab, but as I got it out and set it in between the kids, it never interacted with us.  We knew that was not a good sign, and so we moved on.

The next puppy was also black and tiny, but with a splotch of white on the side of her nose, on her chest, and on the tip of each foot.  The interaction was great as she weaved in and out between our legs.  She was all wiggles, and very excited with the attention.

On our way home, we came up with the idea of keeping with the theme of our dog’s name being four letters and starting with the letter K.”  When I was growing up, my dog was named King.  Our current dog was Kati, of course, and now we were adding Kora into the fold; a name that our son Todd, then a senior in high school, came up with.  It seemed to fit the pup perfectly.

Kati And Kora - November 2014

Kora & Kati - December 2014

January 2015

Last Adventure With Both Dogs Together
Fall 2016

Our two dogs were together for almost three years before the late spring of 2017.  Kati’s passing came simultaneously with our daughter Jodi going on to college, so our “at home” family was down to 3; my wife Cindy, Kora, and me.

I’d love to say that early on I trained Kora perfectly.  Unfortunately I can’t say that.  My Dad often quotes, “Patience, before you become one!”  It of course is a play on words, but it makes sense.  When Kora was young, I tried to teach her commands alongside Kati, who knew them well (by my voice, hand signals, and a whistle).  I wanted to be able to have both dogs, side by side, and saying their respected name first, have each of them follow their specifically given command.  It was a bit more than what any of us could handle.  I’m sure I wasn’t patient.

Fortunately my dogs and family were forgiving and despite the rough start, anyone who knows Kora, recognizes her qualities, demeanor, and ability to follow my commands on cue.  Soon after she reached adult size, I worried that she would be too small, but she really has become what I would deem as the perfect size, as I can pick her up if it’s necessary to carry her through a raging creek, and yet she can hold her own and swim across just as easily.

And so with an understanding relationship, and the desire to both please and get out into the great outdoors on another adventure, we’ve grown together as only a couple of fraternal twins can.  We take our usual neighborhood walks, but we’ve also hit the woods, prairies, backwaters, and rivers of Northern Illinois and Southern Wisconsin.  We hike, explore, camp, and hang out.  It’s nice to have a friend and companion that has similar interests.

Winter 2018

When our kids come home she becomes very excitable.  “Glued to the hip” is the best way to describe the way that she follows my wife Cindy around; probably bordering on being “underfoot.”  She loves to see my parents and friend Kris. Both have watched her when we go on vacations (although she does throw us a worried glance when she realizes that she’s about to be left behind for a few days).  At Kris’, she becomes a farm dog, and at my parents’ house she typically is situated in a place where she can oversee everything going on.  My Dad walks her with his headlamp attached to her collar just to keep track of her at night with her dark fur.

Kora With Cindy - February 2015

Jodi & Todd With Kora
At Turtle Creek In Shopiere - 2016

One of the most special traits of Kora is her knowledge and awareness of boundaries.  All of my past dogs have had this mannerism, and so it is with Kora.  I don’t ever have to worry about her running away, or getting into a situation that she shouldn’t.  Observers have often thought that we had underground fencing, but this has never been the case.  She simply knows property lines and to stay close to me from the times I spend out in the yard with her.  I love nothing more than being able to work out in the yard with my dog laying in the grass; watching whatever life comes her way.

The only thing that tops the feeling of seeing her breath easy, with tongue lolling, while surveying the neighborhood, is having her join me on an adventure.  Like twins that tend to share a common bond, I think that we do as well.  Whether walking through the farmer’s field and down to the creek, perching on the front of my kayak like a hood ornament, shaking with excitement while sitting in the front of my Jeep, splashing and swimming within local rivers, running in the bottomlands through freshly fallen snow, or wolfing down warm food cooked in my iron skillet over an open, crackling fire, you could say that we share common interests in the great outdoors.   It’s hard not to smile knowing that our close knit relationship binds us together as twinsies.

See you along The Way…

Both Dogs With The Gulo Adventure Clan
Negative Temps - February 2015

A Winter Cookout With Dad - 2015

Winter Hike To Dry Run Creek - 2016

Shadows At Lake Geneva - 2017

At A Frozen Oxbow - 2017

Bath Time In The Bucket - 2018

Adventure - 2019

Soaking Up Sun - 2020

Visiting School - Fall 2020

Winter Camping - December 2020

Snowshoe Adventure With Friends - 2021

Twinsies

A Lake That Gave Up Her Secrets

 

It was the third year in a row that my wife Cindy, daughter Jodi, and I had spent at Jung’s Birch Lake “Tranquility Cottage”.  Born of necessity to get-a-way in the middle of the pandemic of 2020, we now use the week to reconnect.  Because Jodi’s been going to grad school in Texas this last year, she came back to join us Up North where we could spend time making some memories together.

The days quickly fell into a rhythm.  Being familiar now with the lake and surrounding area, I typically headed out to fish in the morning and spent time at the cabin with the ladies in the afternoon.  During that time we’d read, journal, take walks, fix and eat dinner, go for a drive, or go get ice cream.  The weather was pleasant during the day (70° ’s) and cold at night (50° ’s); a refreshing change of pace from what Cindy and I had been experiencing back home and from the triple digits of central Texas for Jodi!

I’d caught some fish in this lake each of the last two years; not a lot of fish, but some big fish.  So each cast this year was made with hopeful expectations.  Gordon Lightfoot sang in his song of Lake Superior and the Edmund Fitzgerald, “she never gives up her dead.”  Likewise, Birch Lake doesn’t always like to give up her fish, unless the fisherman has a lot of patience, some ideas of where to start, and a little knowhow on the lures of choice.  Any knowledge that I’ve gained has primarily come through intuition, mistakes, and sometimes just plain, dumb luck.  When she does give up her fish, they are downright memorable!

The first full day of the week (Sunday) was my 56th birthday.  I fished for several hours that morning with absolutely no action; until there was.  While retrieving a deep diving lure, a fish hit just below the aluminum boat.  I saw the flash, and instantly felt the pull.  What I eventually reeled in was a 23” walleye.  Although I’ve fished a lot throughout my life, for some reason this was my first walleye; and probably one of the last of the main freshwater game fish I had yet to catch.  We postponed my birthday dinner of tacos and had walleye, dipped in Shore Lunch, and fried in butter.  It was a memorable happy birthday indeed!

I Used My Grand-Dad Fagerlund's Old
Fillet Knife To Clean The Walleye.

On Monday morning the air was cool, and with hardly any breeze, the lake was like glass.  I tried several different spots around our end of the lake, but didn’t catch anything until the sun began to heat things up.  Using my Whopper Plopper lure, I caught a nice 18” smallmouth bass that exploded on it and jumped multiple times; all within sight of our cabin and dock.  I released it and watched it swim quickly back under some nearby lily pads.  It’s fun to catch a fish on that surface lure as I feel like Matt Nelson, the YouTube fisherman under the tagname of, “ndyakangler.”  That evening Jodi and I fished together in a back bay for a while.  I managed to catch a 20” pike; releasing it after a quick picture into the water from which it came.

Tuesday morning was slow going.  I caught and released one small pike, but otherwise it was simply time in a boat; which was still worth every minute.  Before heading in, I shared the last hour or so with a doe and her two fawns as they made their way along the shoreline.

On Wednesday morning I started the day by running the hills around the lake, jumping off the dock to rinse off, and eating breakfast.  By that time I had formulated a bit of an adventure in my mind, so with the kayak that comes with our cabin, I set off with some of my fishing gear for a neighboring lake.  It was like being the main character of an epic tale about a guy who trudges through Hell to get to a Heavenly secret lake.  Indeed, it required a lot of grunt work, mud, slogging up and over beaver dams, and wallowing through a swamp, but it was well worth the struggle.  Halfway to my destination I took a break to catch my breath, rest, and was actually able to get a connection so I could talk to my Dad on the phone.  I told him he wouldn’t believe where I was (actually he could picture such a place because he knows me, has done that type of thing himself, and even looked up my location on a satellite image).  The ensuing lake was choked with weeds, but I fished some of the sporadic open sections with a #5 silver Mepps.  After an initial small pike, I managed to catch and wrestle in two twin northerns at a smidge over 25 inches.  I elected to keep them as I truly do love the taste of pan fried pike.  Before I headed back, I caught and released a couple of largemouth bass that were hanging out next to a beaver lodge.  The final paddle across Birch Lake was against the wind, which of course had whipped up some small, rolling whitecaps by that time.  I thought my arms were going to rip out of their sockets before I reached our cottage, but regardless, it was a classic way to end the day’s tale!

Thursday morning’s fishing expedition lasted no more than an hour.  While fishing a small bay, a giant fish went airborne after hitting my Mepps. Spinner.  It was hard to tell what it was exactly.  All I really saw was a large body and a lot of water being thrashed about.  It dove deep, but as I brought it close to the boat, after it had taken multiple runs, I could see that it was a muskie.  I felt fortunate that I had my large, rubberized net.  It’s safe for the fish, and a bit easier to handle them when they are in it.  Make no mistake that with the combination of power, hook barbs, and fish teeth, it’s not what I would label as an easy task.  It is, however, more manageable of a venture as it allows you to keep a fish in the water while using your multi-tool pliers to get the hook out.  Actually, for this fish, which measured at 33 inches, I had to grab it under its jaw and lift it from the net.  I find that it immobilizes them more than a gripper.  This also allowed me to reach down into the muskie’s mouth to extract the treble hook while still holding it.  I lifted it for a quick photograph and then eased it back into the lake, where with a flick of its tail, it disappeared.  At that point, and after a fish like that, I quit for the morning.  That fish was my fourth muskie in three summers, my second of the year, and although the smallest of all of them, I was more than satisfied with the experience!

My Plug Of Cedar
With A Prayer Of Thankfulness
For The Opportunity
Before Each Fishing Adventure.

That afternoon I took the girls to a nearby bay where they caught panfish and perch.  They had fun, laughed, and enjoyed being out on the lake.  We kept 6 of them that we ate that evening along with one of the pike from the day before.

I closed out the week with a 25 ½ inch pike on a cold and early Friday morning.  I took a selfie with the fish and then released it as I didn’t feel as though I needed to keep it (we were already bringing home one of the two pike that I had caught on Wednesday for a meal later this fall).  The interesting story of that last fish was that I was able to see the wake it made as it charged out from some lily pads before it actually hit my spinner.  Talk about short lived anticipation!  Knowing that something was about to happen, I waited only a fraction of a second for the actual strike.

All in all our week together was fun, relaxing, and just what any doctor with half a mind would have ordered.  Fishing was just a portion of what we did that week, but to that end, it was an important facet of the overall experience.  Thankfully, Birch Lake, in its tranquility and serenity, shared some of its secrets and gave up her fish.  Interestingly enough, the brochure for Jung’s Birch Lake Cottages states, “The natural beauty of this 180 acre lake offers you great fishing for Musky, Northern, Bass, Walleye, and Panfish…”  Indeed it does, and indeed it did - on all accounts, with fish that were truly memorable!

See you along The Way…

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