
"'Cast with the wind,' my guide said, but then the wind would pierce the shelter and it would swirl, and the waves would become confused, and castingeven with a lure heavy enough to bludgeon Shamu the killer whale into submissionwould turn comical.
"He would move the boat to another section of the lake, and things would improve for a while, and then the wind would find us yet again, and we would move again. No fish. 'You don't see any of the locals out here today,' he said. 'Usually on a morning like this, you'd see a couple of boats. 'You couldn't have picked a worse day for this.'
"He looked toward the sky. 'A bald eagle,' he said. And the day, suddenly, wasn't so miserable at all."

"But where it begins and how far it extends and where it isn't and where it ends isn't the point. Even the townsand there are townshardly matter.
"Minocqua, no longer quaint, has stoplights, a major hospital, franchise restaurants and lodgings, even a Wal-Mart.
"'You can go to a Wal-Mart anyplace,' concedes Loren Anderson, who founded and runs the Snowmobile Hall of Fame 30 minutes east in St. Germain. 'But what you can't do is go to Wal-Mart, then walk a couple of hundred feet, throw a hook in a lake and fish. That's what we have up here.'
"Aside from semi-bustling Minocqua and Eagle River and Hayward (and, up north, Ashland and Bayfield), Wisconsin's North Woods is mainly thousands of lakesliterally thousands, with world-class fishinglinked by county roads named B and L and K and W and the rest of the alphabet. Most of the backroads, some just wide enough to allow two Mini Coopers to pass side by side and not all of them paved, have names that end in Lake: Big. Crab. Star."
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