Sometimes you need to go fishing to think about football.

That’s what I did Sunday, since the Bears were off and the world was too much with me. Tear gas, pepper balls, immigration, inflation, government shutdown, on and on. You know what I’m talking about. Nature was a getaway.

John Voorhees, my friend for over 50 years, and I walked up the Lake Superior beach from my family’s cabin outside Ontonagon — not a person in sight for miles in either direction — to the mouth of the Flintsteel River where it empties into the lake. Sometimes after big storms out of the west, like the gale that sank the Edmund Fitzgerald, sand will pile up and the river will be closed. It was wide open this time, clear and cool and too deep to wade across.

We hooked up our rods just about the time the first gr

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