My dad had a goal to be on the lake fishing by 5:00 am each morning of summer vacation. I do not remember ever getting started that early but several mornings it was still dark as we backed our small boat away from the dock. The smell of gasoline mixed with oil suspended in the still air and the muffled sound of our five and ½ Horse Power Evinrude motor along with the propeller churning just below the glass surface of the lake are memories I can recall with vivid clarity.

The lake would often have a mist rising from the surface during the early dawn and a boat leaving the shore would disappear into the mist within minutes. The only indication the boat ever existed came from the low throaty sound of the small motor or the shifting of tackle and feet on the aluminum bottom of the boat. The sound waves would travel unobstructed across the surface of the water confusing anybody along the shore as to where the sound was emanating from.

I never knew as a child what the formula might have been for picking just the right place to start fishing, but I am sure in my dad’s mind there was some logic or a gut feeling which would lead him to just the right spot. I remember the motor being throttled down in increments until we were barely idling when we were close to our stopping point. The last maneuver before shutting the motor off was turning the boat in the proper direction for drifting if we were fishing for walleye, and we usually were.

There was a sense of freedom in this style of fishing to me, just being adrift and letting the lake dictate your speed and direction. The scenery would change minute by minute and the distant shoreline would move in relation to our boats orientation, while mist and clouds changed the tone and color of the water and sky.

It was perfectly quiet on the water with our motor shut-off, except for the rhythmic lap of waves against the side of the boat. Watching the Minnesota sunrise from the middle of a lake is a spectacular site. I would scan the horizon looking for every subtle change in brightness and color as dawn unfolded in front of me. The extra warmth was welcome when the sun’s rays finally broke through the cold veil of the pre-dawn.