Memory Lane - 50 years ago
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Wonder how many readers remember The Old Log Inn? "Mile One" now sits on this location. Back in "the good old days" Earl and Elsie Tomek held court at this establishment. In addition to tending bar, Earl was a musky guide. I fished muskies with him on Moose Lake, Butternut Lake, the Flowage and English Lake - - the latter being where I caught my first legal-sized musky. We must have had 15-20 follows that day. Finally, one decided to latch onto my lure. Earl kept a .22 pistol in his tackle box that was absent the front sight. I got the fish up next to the boat and I was surprised to hear, "BANG!"
He said, "They've made fools of us enough times today. THIS one was gonna be boated, dammit!"
Shooting hooked and wild-mannered muskies was not all that uncommon back then. And, since it was my first legal-sized musky, Earl wanted to make sure that it got into the boat. After that, he never used that .22 again - - at least not in my prescense. (Although I did witness him using it to shoot a large snapping turtle I boated and brought to him. He gutted it and hung it in a tree to drain. The next day we were treated to delicious turtle soup prepared by Elsie.)
That first musky is currently mounted above my fireplace, and the bullet hole in its head can't be seen unless you know exactly where to look. This was in the days before catch-and-release became all the rage. If you caught a musky in those days, there was absolutely no shame associated with keeping it and having it mounted. Nowadays. guides do like to see them tossed back so they can have their customers catch the same fish over and over, again. Nicer for business that way. I've already mentioned how I miss all of those musky heads that used to be nailed to trees. 'Ya just don't see 'em anymore. There used to be pride in finally catching a big one that nobody else was able to catch. Nowadays, you're just one out of a line of who knows how many other guys who have latched onto the same fish? The guide knows where each of them hangs out. So, its omewhat like catching fish in a barrel, which you promptly deposit back into the barrel, of course. But, that's the way of the world nowadays. (I'm sure this will prompt a few vitrolic responses. So be it.)
The favorite game for a round of drinks at Old Log Inn was Poker Pool. Guys got five cards, and ladies got three. Each took turns at the table. As each numbered ball was sunk, you got rid of its associated card in your hand. The last person still holding a card (with the associated ball still on the table) had to buy the round.
(Conversely, at Al's Place, the preferred game was Liar's Dice. The ladies didn't get any break on that one.)
Elsie cooked delicious meals. Her home-made French fries were made from potatoes that were peeled fresh each day. My mouth waters just thinking of it. Any leftovers were put into the dump which was just down the road from The Old Log Inn (County F). Back then, the thing to do in the evening was to take the kids and park down at the dump to watch the bears come out and feed. (Not to be done anymore these days.)
Speaking of bears, Earl once had a cub that he kept for awhile in the bar. (Thanks to Gene Netzel, who actually snatched the cub out of a tree. Some say Gene was half-bear, himself. He sure did know the woods, and he also knew how to catch a limit of walleyes. He proved it to me one day when we easily brought back a stringer of ten nice ones. That was back when such a "copius" walleye limit still existed.) Earl used to sell lotsa Hershey candy bars to folks who would then feed 'em to the cub as it marched up and down the bar. But, one day a customer only fed HALF of the candy bar - - putting the other half into his shirt pocket. The cub, naturally, went after it and the customer was wounded in the chest, accordingly. After that, the cub magically disappeared from the Old Log Inn.
Before leaving in the morning for a guiding trip, Earl would check on the goldfish bowl. If the goldfish was swimming near the top, he'd favor the use of a surface lure (fashionably called a "topwater bait" nowadays). If the fish was near the bottom of the bowl, he'd favor the use of a deeper-running lure. Of course, Earl, himself, would always use a black bucktail, almost exclusively. To my mind, it's still the best musky lure out there.
On chilly days or evenings, Earl would toss another log into the 50-gallon-barrel converted into a horizontal stove down at the far end of the bar. It did a nice job of keeping things cozy.
Earl had been a firefighter in Chicago. He got fed up with Chicago politics; hauled his wife up to the woods; and raised a lovely family. His son, Scott, still lives and breathes the wonderful air adjacent to the Turtle Flambeau Flowage. Incidentally, Earl served in the US Navy in the South Pacific. As is the case with most WW-II vets, he never talked about it - - unless prompted by another vet who wanted to compare notes.
Just like the Old Log Inn, neither Earl nor Elsie are with us anymore, but their memory lives on amongst those of us who are old enough to remember the great meals and great times that we had.
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