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Boundary Waters Journal
Where's Walter?

By Kevin Moore(published Summer 2002)

One day long ago, I said to the August wind and myself, “Man, there's another one!” My little spinning rod was bent double with a slow, head-shaking motion. I glanced down at the depth finder-45 feet. It hadn't taken long for the wind to blow the kayak out over deep water. A couple of minutes later I released a nice 4-pound walleye.

I couldn't believe it could be that easy. I felt like the lost Dutchman when he turned over that first shovel full of nuggets. It was late August on the eastern arm of Cirrus Lake, up towards Sue Falls. I had been out lake trout fishing, bouncing a big 1-ounce jig and some belly meat off the bottom in maybe 80 feet of water.

I'd been at it for a while with no luck, way out in the middle, far from any shore. The depth finder had been switched off for an hour or better; I was just drifting along working the bottom 10 feet of the water column. It was a warm, sunny afternoon with a steady west wind.

I'd set my trout rod down while I dug something to eat out of the daypack behind me. I had just peeled a bit of wrapper off a sun-softened Milky Way when my rod bent and slid away from me. I grabbed it just in time, before it went over the side and sure enough, I was snagged up.

I remember looking around out there, man I was a long way from shore. Opening the bail, I paddled hard to turn the boat into that west wind. I don't bring along many trout jigs, and I didn't want to lose one so early in the trip. Well, as luck would have it, I managed to slack the line and paddle back over the snag, pulling it free from the bottom. It wasn't many cranks until the 12-foot monofilament leader was visible. I hit the button on the locator and was surprised to be in only 16 feet of water. You sure wouldn't have guessed it way out there.

Then, right in front of my eyes, a fish symbol appeared 2 feet off the bottom, then another one. How about that? It was only my second year with that Humminbird® portable, but one thing I'd already learned is that Walter hardly ever showed on the screen. Even when right on top of him, catching one after another, he rarely busted a pixel.

The lake trout fishing was quiet, and I'd lost my belly meat on the snag so why not. Feeling as Charlie Brown must've felt trying to kick the football, I baited up my ultra-light's green jig with a little bit of nightcrawler and paddled back upwind. No fish symbols showed up on the locator, and I figured I'd be dragging my rig through the biggest school of white suckers in that part of the Quetico.

When the depth finally hit 24 feet and the bottom's profile slid steeply back towards deep water, I put up the paddle and dropped in the jig. It didn't take long for the wind to turn the boat broadside and carry it back over shallow water. I checked the locator...18 feet...16 feet...still no symbols on the screen. If Walter was there, he was working under the radar. My expectations were low. I hadn't had a bite in three hours, and I was ready to get back to camp. Boat-butt had already given way to boat-back and besides, I was hungry.

I nonchalantly jigged the rod up and down, letting out a little more line to try to stay in contact with the bottom. I noticed I was getting deeper again...18 feet...20 feet. Suddenly the rod tip felt heavy, and I thought I was snagged but lo and behold, after a few cranks of the reel I realized I had a fish on. The ultra-light bent in half, and I switched off the anti-reverse to back reel. A short time into the fight I checked the locator...36 feet...I was out over deep water with nothing to get snagged up on. It wasn't long before I grabbed a nice 20-inch walleye. This fish was broad and fat, heavy for it's length and a beautiful bronze color glinting in the afternoon sun.

"You're a lucky fish, Walter. You're too big to eat, and you know it." I set him back into the water beside the kayak. With one quick flex of his body, he was goneswallowed by the crystal green of Cirrus Lake.

"Well, that was fun!" I re-baited and paddled back upwind for another pass. This time a bigger walleye, 4 pounds or so, and then another one after that. Each float rewarded me with a nice fat Walter. I can't say for sure how long I fished that little hump or even how many fish I caught, but I do know thisI was hooked. Hooked as hard and fast as any of those summer walleyes. I didn't know it back then, but I was through the looking glass, on the other side. I'd read the articles on the "so called" mid-lake humps: just so much dry, preachy, self-congratulatory drivel that couldn't be replicated in the real world. Well, not by me anyway, but now here I was, one of them.

I couldn't wait to get back and fish that spot during the prime time, so by 7 p.m. that same night I was back on the hump. Even with electronics, I had a hard time finding it but finally, there it was on the


screen. My hands were shaking a little as I dropped the jig for the first float. The wind had died down some so the boat wasn't drifting as fast. I waited...and nothing. I made another pass, thinking I must have been over the wrong part of the reef. Still nothing. I fished there all evening and only caught two small walleye and a snaky northern. I wasn't sure what to think, my hopes had been so high. I had imagined a 10-pounder, and all I caught were two eatersthe size I could've caught from camp.

That night I slept a restless sleep, never deep, until after the birds sang. It was 9:30 when I woke, the mid-morning sun slowly baking me inside the tent. My first waking image was of that reef, that backyard-sized hump out there in all that deep water.

By noon I was back out there, and the bite was on. Just like the day before, it was one big walleye after another. Oh, there'd be a few drifts without a bite but not many. I spent the next six days bullying Walter out there on the playground. I grew up in Wisconsin and have fished walleye most of my life, but I had never experienced anything like that before. I'm pleased to say, however, it's happened since. The method is easy to learn, and I'm willing to share it with you.

Getting Over the Hump

Before you can fish one, you have to find one. In the BWCAW many lakes have been sounded, so you can use your maps to get started; in the Quetico it's a different story. Back in there you need to find your own. A portable locator is by far the easiest way, but I know they're not for everyone. Purists might say they have no place in the wilderness. The ethical debate over electronics aside, they're the most convenient way to find mid-lake humps.

The old-fashion way works too. Put a small rock in your anchor bag and tie off 25 feet of light rope or parachute cord to your canoe. You'll find that a nice windy afternoon works best for this. Paddle yourself upwind of the area you want to float and drop in your stone. Let it hang suspended from the canoe as the wind blows you along, Have a walleye rig ready to go, a 3/8-ounce green jig with a piece of nightcrawler works great. A plastic grub or twister tail may work too, but I'm a live bait guy. Just be sure that you're rig is ready to go before you hit the hump.

If your anchor should hang up, congratulations! You've found a hump. Here's where a couple of marker buoys are extremely helpful, especially when fishing without electronics. Throw a buoy in as soon as you notice you've found bottom, right away on the upwind side. If the anchor holds, you can start fishing the downwind side of the boat, casting out and jigging back towards you. If the anchor is dragging and the boat is moving, drop your jig down right next to the canoe until you find bottom, then pull up the anchor. When you're drifting free, you want to be fishing on the upwind side of the boat.

Keep your jig in contact with the bottom, letting out line as need be. Pull the rod tip up slowly, then let the bait drop back to the bottom. My experience with mid-summer walleye is if they're out there, you'll know it. When they're up on these humps and feeding actively, they're apt to be very aggressive.

If you don't get a strike, paddle upwind to your buoy and try again. I'd try six or eight drifts before giving up and exploring the lake for other humps. Each one is hard to find, so fish them thoroughly. Sometimes fish are all over on the reef, other times they're concentrated in one small part. Prospecting for humps is time consuming; you have to be patient and stay at it. If you're comfortable with electronics, you definitely have an advantage. With a depth finder, you can cover a lot of water quickly compared to the "rope and hope" method. Whichever way you prospect, don't give up. All humps don't hold fish, but when you find one that doesit'll be worth your efforts.

What constitutes a good reef or hump? The first thing it should have is access to deep water. It doesn't matter so much if the drop-off into deeper water is steep or gradual, only that deep water is there directly adjacent to the hump. What's deep? I'd say 40, 50, maybe 60 feet or more, although it certainly doesn't have to be that deep. One of the best runs of reef fishing I ever had was on a hump surrounded by a depth of only 30 feet or so.

It was during a trip in late June, 1998. I was on Keefer Lake on a windy, sky-blue day. I had been fishing in the lee of an island for an hour or so with very little luck. There was this tiny little bay cut into the island where the water was calm, and I languished there in the shade, out of the early afternoon sun. The wind in the trees sounded like a turbine engine as I reclined in the seat of my boat, watching the surf roll past the tip of the island, not 50 feet off my bow. With the bright sun and windy conditions, it was easy to distinguish the shallow water from the deep by the contrast in colors. The shallows were showing up as a khaki tan as compared to the emerald green depths.

Suddenly the walleye fisherman in me took charge as I sat there and watched all that water roll by. I tied


on a pair of heavier jigs, one orange and the other green, and tipped them both with crawlers. Then it was out into the surf. Large rocks and boulders whisked past beneath the boat, then some darker green water. I dropped the green jig overboard and watched it flutter from sight. The heavy jig found bottom, and I started the familiar lifting and falling action, not really jiggingmore just pulling up and letting go.

It was getting deeper, and I couldn't feel the bottom anymore so I let out some line and switched on the locator...26...29...30, then 32 feet it quickly read. "Too deep for Walter," I thought to myself. The kayak blew a little farther down the lake, and I could see a lighter shade of green up ahead. I checked the locator...27...26...sure enough, it was getting shallower. I reeled up quickly and got ready for another drop. I watched the electronic screen, when it hit 22 feet I dropped my line into the water. By the time I'd found bottom, the boat was over 17 feet of water. I worked the rod up and down a few times; right away I had a bite. I set the hook and reeled in a fat little 15-incher. While not the size I expected, I put him on the stringer for supper and paddled back up to where I'd started.

Repeating the process, I had another bite and this fish was no eaterthat was for sure. I use very light tackle, this fish had my 5-foot rod bent nearly double. I back-reeled for all I was worth as the wind carried us down the lake. I checked the locator...34 feet. "No snags out here," I thought. Pretty soon, up came a beautiful 23-inch fish.

"Walter!" I said out loud. I'd found him. Boy, did I! Pass after pass that day turned up the same results, one big walleye after another. Mid-summer and midday, how can you beat that? After a while I went back over into that calm little lee by the island and cleaned my supper fish. I needed the break. By then I'd probably caught 20 nice walleye, and that first one was the only one small enough to eat.

After a snack and little leg stretch on shore, it was back out into the surf. The bite was still on, and nearly every pass I'd get a fish. It would take a while to get those big fish up to the boat with the light tackle I had, and sometimes you could see 3 or 4 walleye swimming along with the one that was hooked. Wow!

I stayed on Keefer for 5 more days, and the bite was on each and every afternoon. However, just like on Cirrus, it slowed down to a crawl by evening. Go figure. That particular hump topped out at 14 feet and was surrounded by 30 to 35 feet of water. Reefs that top out between 12 and 20 feet are generally what you're looking for.

"What makes one better than another?" I have no idea, all I know is that when you find a summer reef or hump that holds fish, you'll know it. When Walter puts on the feedbag out there, he's not shy.

All Day, Any Day

My first few trips to Quetico, walleye fishing was a different game, much more traditional. Just like back home, we'd fish the early morning then again towards evening. We'd stick to the narrows or where a creek came in, places there was current. Moving water meant walleye, and low light conditions was the time to go get them. The middle part of the day was left for exploring, bass fishing or just laying around camp in a hammock, certainly not a prime walleye time.

After a couple of trips with my buddies, I started going with my wife. She was back in college and had some time off to get away. Though she would fish, it wasn't a priority to her like it was to me. We'd set up a beautiful summer camp on the north end of Kashahapiwi, and Jackie would lie around camp and read while I'd go out fishing. The only trouble was that we had an 18-foot Kevlar Sundowner that was a bit much to handle solo in any kind of wind. So I stayed close to camp. That is when I discovered Walter would cooperate, at times, during the daylight hourseven in the supposed "dog-days" of mid-August. In fact, around noon seemed to be a real productive time. With no electronics back then, I wasn't sure just exactly how deep he was, but I knew it was deeper that what I was used to fishing. Now I know that it's somewhere between 18 and 22 feet.

With that We-no-nah, prospecting for humps was out of the question, but I did learn a good daytime bite was possible. I've replicated this mid-lake, mid-summer hump pattern many times since stumbling on to it some ten years back. Lake trout are active during the daylight hours, so this is a great time to kill two birds with one stone.

If you have electronics, keep them on as you drift or troll; when you come to a hump, stop and walleye it. Without electronics, stop and fish walleye any place that you get snagged up or where the color of the water suggests it's shallower. Drop a marker buoy in where you first get snagged, then paddle back up to it and drop down a crawler. If Walter's there, you'll know it.

Again, some humps hold tons of fish and some don't have any, so be methodical. Have a walleye rig set


up to go when you start trout fishing; then when you find a likely spot, pick it up and toss it in. If you stick to your guns and try a few humps, chances are you'll come across one that's hot. Then, hold on, you're in for some great walleye actionmaybe the best ever. I've fished walleye since I was a boy and this pattern is the best by far, bar none! Furthermore, chances are if you find them out there one day, they're apt to be back the next. All day, any day.

Keep Your Anchor in the Boat

For some of you, this might take some getting used to; it sure did for me. Old habits die hard, that's the plain truth. In northern Wisconsin, we fished the big walleye lakes by drifting along with wind, jigging live bait. When someone hooked up, we'd quickly toss in the anchor and fish the school. What you learn when you're young sticks. When I first came to canoe country some tried and true tactics came with, and they worked. Well, for the most part anyway. The difference was the big lakes back home are considerably shallower and more fertile than those on the Canadian Shield. The drift and anchor method would work, but it wasn't always applicable.

Since then I've come full circle on the anchor issue. These days I rarely use one, but I used toall the time. I envision Walter and his classmates swimming around out there in loose schools, moving along and feeding as they go. I try to fight fire with fire, he's not tied to one spot; I don't want to be either. Oh, you may hammer 2 or 3 nice ones if you're in a good spot when the school moves through, but then they're gone and you're not. Hope you brought a book.

By the time I discovered reef fishing, I was nearly weaned off the anchor anyway. I found myself using one less and less. Now, don't get me wrong. If you're holding in a narrows, or other tight spot, or right in on top of a big concentration of fish an anchor is the ticket. Out on those open humps and reefs, you really don't need one. In fact, in most cases, you're better off without it.

It's a little more work paddling back to the top of the reef after each drift, but if you're getting a bite on each pass, I'll bet you get used to it. I've found that reeling in a bunch of 20-inch-plus class fish has a way of modifying behavior. Fishing loose in the wind is a mind set. If it's not what you're used to it may take some time, but hang in there. It's not like you can't ever anchor again, it's just another way to skin a cat. "Try it, you'll like it!"

Surf's Up, Riding the Wind

Trips to Quetico are short. Nearly every issue of BWJ seems to have one author or another going on 7- and 8-day trips. With travel time in and out of the interior, there aren't many days to just fish. If everyone loves the canoe country so much, why are so many spending such a short time there each year? You want a different perspective on this country? Cut your normal group size in half and double your stay in days, but that's a bone for another day.

It does, however, tie into the "big surf." With a limited number of days available for simply fishing, you may find yourself out there in windier conditions than you might like. (Please note: I'm not talking about two-foot rollers here.) You don't want anything too dangerous. I'm talking about times when it's just plain windy, blowing around 15 mph or so.

The good news is, out on the reefs, windy is good. It's good for prospecting, good for moving you along quickly and it's good for fishing once you find them. It just takes some getting used to out there, loose on the water. There are only two sure-fire ways I can think of to find a reef in the wind: either by diligent ambition or plain dumb luck.

So let's say your first day on Kawnipi you find yourself a dandy reef, smacking with big Walters. Conditions are great, and you just hammer them. The next morning you open your eyes, and your ears fill with the wind in the trees. Tomorrow you're group is planning to move, so you only have today. Oh, but that wind...then you think of Walter.

Always safety first, nothing too dangerous. If conditions are just windy, you can fish them or sit in camp and miss out on the walleye day of a lifetime; tough choice. Get your gear together before you head out. String your rods, tie on jigs or re-tie knots; it's all easier on shore than out in a rocking boat. If it's not too far a paddle, I usually bait up two rods before I ever leave camp. In the wind you can go over a hump pretty fast, without much time to do anything but fish. If you're ready, you can just drop down the jig when you hit the reef.

Rig your rods with either 3/8- or 1/2-ounce jigs. I know that may seem heavy but if Walter's on a tear, he won't mind. In windy conditions you need the extra weight to stay near the bottom, close to the boat. You want to keep your line as taught as possible and as close as you can to the canoe. With a lighter jig this


won't happen; you'll have to let out quite a bit of line to keep your bait in the zone, which inevitably means more snags.

If the hump is small, and many good ones are, you may want to use your paddle to slow you down. Depending on your boat and the breeze, this may involve only sticking your paddle into the water and gently prying against the side or actually having to paddle some to stall the drift. Maximizing your time over that hump is what you want, the longer you're on it the better. Try not to let the wind frustrate you too much, know that it's going to blow and that's that! Keeping a positive attitude on board will enhance both your performance and enjoyment of the day. Keep the faith. Walter hates a quitter.

Live Bait, Live Action

I've read a lot lately in the BWJ and other places about live bait. In Quetico that means crawlers and leeches. The loudest voices these days are saying you don't need it to catch walleye. They're right, you don't. You don't need matches to start a fire either, but it sure goes better with them. I feel the same way about live bait; I use it because it works.

There are timeswhen the reefs are on fire and biting is at its bestwhen an artificial will catch as many, or out-catch, live bait. This is the truth, and I don't deny it. The scent-impregnated plastics of today are far superior to their predecessors. Still, it's my opinion, if you want to catch walleye consistently, day in and day out, pack along some live bait.

Nightcrawlers are the easiest to keep alive and fresh; all you need is a good six-pack cooler, some sphagnum moss and a little attention. Keep them damp, out of the sun and you should have no trouble holding them for a week or two. Twice that long if you have a mind to.

Leeches work great too, but in my mind they're a little fussier. My friend Pommer made a leech container out of a heavy old plastic jar that resembled the one Frabil has out on the market, only larger. He drilled a bunch of small holes in the top to allow water circulation, then two bigger holes on either side of the body to accept a rope handle. This homemade rig kept a half-pound of leeches wild and wiggly for nearly three weeks last August, with very little die off. Just put a small stone inside the jar and sink it in the water off camp. I like leeches. Man, do they work! (Editor's note: It is not legal to bring live leeches into Canada, to fish leeches in Quetico they must be purchased in Canada.)

I travel solo a lot so for me it's either crawlers or leeches. I lean towards worms, because I can keep them better. If you travel with a group, next time take some of both. For a big slice of Quetico fishermen, this alone will likely double or even triple the number of walleye you catch. With all the kitchen sinks carried into canoe country each year, why not haul in something to put more walleye in the boat? Leave the fluorescent lantern and spare 6-volt batteries at home, instead carry in a cooler of crawlers. If you can, that's a good trade.

Every year on the portage trails I ask people how they've found the fishing. Next I'll ask about walleye. Most folks say, "Not too good." Then I ask about live bait, do they have any? About the same percentage that says, "The walleye fishing sucks," have no live bait. Though certainly not a scientific poll, it's telling nonetheless.

I met one group a few years ago up by Splitrock Falls. Four strapping young fellas in their late twenties, I suppose. When I asked, they said the fishing was good. "Walleye too?" I wanted to know. They'd already told me they'd been in that country for more than a week.

"Yeah, nice walleye," the spokesman for the bunch said. In that part of the park I wasn't surprised.

"You fellas using live bait?" I asked offhandedly.

"Heck no!" the guy said, looking at me like I was some kind of freak. "You don't need live bait to catch walleye. Why, I caught five of them myself this week, and I didn't need any worms either."

That said it all for me. This group of guys looked like they knew what they were doing, and I bet they fished hard. Maybe even set some kind of walleye record for their bunch that week. I didn't say anymore; I just slung my pack, picked up my cooler of crawlers and headed for Chatterton. I remember thinking, going down that rocky trail, "I'll probably catch five walleyes before supper." Not because I'm such a great fisherman, and certainly not because those fellas weren't, but simply because of what was in the little cooler I carried.

Special Weapons and Tactics

Usually S.W.A.T. teams are brought in to resolve especially difficult situations. The same thing is true once you find a hot reef and have only a very short time to fish it. Two things can wreck your party: a really big wind or a case of the doldrums with no wind at all.


First the big surf. Again, please don't do anything dangerous just to catch a few fish. Redd Foxx was right when he said, "Life's hard...but it's harder when you're stupid." Words to live by in canoe country. The safety issue aside, it's possible to fish in the wind being both safe and effective..

Now that I've gotten you to think about leaving your anchor in the canoe and drifting, very windy conditions may require you to use it. Get yourself situated so you're held fast out on the hump and try slip bobbers. This technique works best with live bait. Leeches are probably the best choice, although crawlers work well too. Tie on a 1/8th-ounce or even a 1/16th-ounce jig head and hookup your bait. The lighter jig gives the bait more flutter as the bobber works up and down in the waves.

Do yourself a favor and set your rigs up back at camp, before heading out to fish. No matter what kind of slip-bobber system you use, rigging them up out in a bouncy, wind-blown boat is a pain. If you already know the reef is hot, you should have a pretty good idea of the depth you want to fish. Try to get your bait down to within a foot or two of the bottom. Clear water is a little more forgiving than stained. In darker, more tea-colored water, it pays to be closer to the bottomwithin a foot for sure. That's where Walter will be; you can almost bet on that.

Watching a bobber hunch and roll between the waves can be fun, kind of like being a kid again. For those of you who may think a bobber isn't sophisticated enough, try referring to it as a "strike-indicator," maybe that will help. Don't be a snob; this technique catches fish no matter what you call it, and it's fun too.

Another tactic that works well out in big wind is anchoring on a long line. I like letting out 45 feet of anchor rope in only 15 feet of water. What this does is allow the wind to swing the boat from side to side like a gate. This enables you to cover a much larger section of the hump and still remain anchored. You can exaggerate the wind's motion by paddling or sculling the canoe from one side of the swing field to the other. Then jig vertically, right under the boat, where you've got the best chance for a clean hook-up. Just drop the jig over the side and start the lifting/falling, just like the slip bobber, this technique is very effective and will put fish in the boat under rough conditions.

A slip sinker and a floating jig head tipped with live bait is another good way to go. This style lets you throw the bait out and forget about it. I generally have one of my three spinning rods set up this way, even when I'm mainly using other techniques. Then if I get bit off or snagged, I just toss out the floating jig head and set the rod aside. It's handy because you can still fish effectively, even while you're re-tying another pole. If you don't have any slip sinkers along, a regular split shot or two18 inches above the baitwill do nicely.

Crank baits are a good choice out in the big surf too. Walter's out there feeding on minnows or baitfish of some kind, but getting your lure down into the zone tends to be the problem. Big-lipped, floating cranks might not get down deep enough to do the job, especially in darker water. This is where Countdown Rapalas® can be the answer, but folks tend to fish them way too fast. Sometimes speed doesn't matter, other times it is everything. So if Walter is out there mainly mowing minnows, why do crawlers or leeches work so well? Though I don't know for sure, I suspect he just really likes them. A delicacy they'll readily take most any time the opportunity presents itself.

The last word on live bait: please be careful not to hurt the fish you plan to release. This starts even before they're hooked. With slip bobbers especially, set the hook as soon as possible after the "strike-indicator" goes under. You might miss a few more hook-ups this way, but you can keep Walter from swallowing the bait. The same goes for floating jig heads or, worse yet, a plain hook with a leech. Keep a close eye on your line, keep it taut with the bail closed on the reel so you can tell as soon as you get a bite. You're not fishing with musky suckers, there's no need to let him run with it. With live bait, do Walter a favor, when you feel a tug, give a yank. If a fish does swallow it down but he's otherwise uninjured, snip the line off and throw him back. Please, no pulling or jerking around inside with pliers just to save a 25-cent hook.

The other side of the big surf coin is the doldrums. Dead calm can be nearly as hard as wind when it comes to good biting. Small reefs you blew over so fast yesterday you could barely get the bait down seem rather large in the calm. When you start to think, "Boy, if it would calm down we'd murder them," you may not realize how hard it might be if you got your wish.

You can still use most of the stuff we've covered here, but it's up to you to supply the motion of the ocean. Paddling or sculling a little while you jig fish can work, but it's generally not as effective or convenient as a nice breeze. Slip bobbers and bottom bouncers tugged around slowly will work too, but keep it


slow.

Calm conditions are a great time to troll a Shad Rap or other minnow imitators over and around these mid-lake humps. This works and it's easy. Judging by the stories in BWJ there are a lot of fellas out there trolling. Maybe it's just a disproportionate number of outdoor writers doing it, but my guess is it runs deeper than that. I see a lot of people each summer traveling past my campsites, dragging lures around. If it's a technique you're comfortable with and you use it all the time, try it over a hot reef sometime. Wow, it can be fun!

Remember those humps and reefs are out there; probably way more than a man could count, and I'm willing to bet there are many of them that have never been fished. I've gone back to the same ones year after year, with very good repeat success. If you haven't had a chance to try this pattern, check it out. If you take the time to do the prospecting, you'll probably have a few strikeouts but hang in there. Sooner or later you'll get onto a hot reef, then hold on! This is walleye fishing at its best. So maybe this summer when you're out there fishing in the midday sunand your campmates start to wonder if you've lost your mindyou might find the answer to the big question, "Where's Walter?"