Each September, Jorg and I are joined by our dear friend and Coca-Cola client Scott “Skeeter” Williamson for a fishing adventure in northern Minnesota (yes, we do have clients who actually seem to enjoy hanging out with us outside of work situations).  The trips typically include more laughs than fish, but that’s okay.  Many people have asked how things went this year, so I thought I’d share a few highlights with everyone from the running journal I kept throughout the trip.

Saturday

9:07 a.m. – We meet at Jorg’s place before heading to the Gophers/Cal football game.  Sadly, our version of tailgating consists of working our way through a bottle of Jim Beam Black and a box of crullers and bear claws.

1:12 p.m. – It’s 86 degrees and we’re on the sunny side of TCF Bank stadium.  Jorg is sweating through his T-shirt at an alarming rate.  After encountering the funky smell of other sweaty fans in section 112, I begin longing for the climate-controlled Metrodome.

1:13 p.m. – What the hell was I thinking?  The new stadium is fantastic.  I don’t care if it is 110 degrees or below zero, I’ll be back again and again.

2:30 p.m. – Gophers lose, but put up a good fight.  We applaud the effort and begin our trek north to a little lake near McGregor, Minn.  Special thanks to former colleague Tim Laughlin and his family for allowing us to use their beautiful cabin.

5:30 p.m. – Tim claims the drive to his cabin is about 2 hours and 5 minutes.  He’s either lying to us or lying to himself. Dale Earnhardt Jr. couldn’t make that kind of time.   

7:12 p.m. – We’re on the water. Jorg and I have each caught a northern pike.  Remarkably, Skeeter has just hooked a sunny through the spine and pulled it into the boat.  The fish are apparently taken aback by his unconventional approach and we come up dry for the rest of the evening. 

10:42 p.m. – With no fish to eat, we’re dining at a bar & grill in the small town of Aitken, Minn. The food is forgettable but the people seem nice. As we leave, one patron even tells us to “watch out cuz the damn cops are thick out there.”  We’re stone sober, but it was a nice heads up all the same. 

 Sunday

7:20 a.m. – I’ve just landed my second bass in 10 minutes when Jorg calls for us to come pick him up at the dock.  He’s finally out of bed and quickly falling behind in our “most fish” wager.  Could my 3-1 lead over him and Skeeter be insurmountable? 

10:31 a.m. – Jorg and I have landed a few more northerns when Skeeter goes for the fishing equivalent of a Hail Mary pass.  He’s going unconventional and attaching a green scum frog to his line in an attempt to change his luck.  Jorg and I are skeptical and mock the little green frog, which looks like it came with a McDonalds Happy Meal.

10:32 a.m. – Skeeter has a nice bass in the boat on his second cast. Jorg and I begin fighting over the only other scum frog lure.

10:39 a.m. – Skeeter lands the biggest bass I’ve ever seen in person.  This thing is a legit 3-pounder.  We celebrate wildly.  I begin trying to fashion a makeshift scum frog from 3 pieces of chewed bubble gum and some leftover apple danish.

Noon – Our hot streak is over and we head in for lunch and a little football.

1:12 p.m. – The Vikings are down 10-0 to the woeful Detroit Lions and I’m officially despondent.  Fortunately, Jorg is pouring stiff drinks.

2:13 p.m. – The burgers Jorg just cooked are out of this world.  Fresh, grass fed beef.  The Vikings are now rolling to a victory and all is well with the world.

3:47 p.m. – Skeeter defies logic again and starts using a fake salamander for bait.  I mock him and mention that there aren’t too many salamanders in these parts.

3:49 p.m. – My goodness. Skeeter just pulled in another monster bass – bigger than this morning’s hog. Give me one of those damn salamanders.

9:12 p.m. – A successful day of fishing under our belts and Jorg is grilling more beef.  This time it’s steak. What a great meal.

Monday

12:49 p.m. – Several more fish in the boat and we’re winding down for the trip.  Jorg and I are deadlocked in our battle for most fish with only 11 minutes remaining.  In what Jorg would refer to as “Broberg luck” (an example would be my errant golf shot that banked off a portable toilet and on to the green) a northern jumps out of the water to latch on to my lure as I’m bringing it into the boat.  I don’t even need to set the hook or reel it in.  It scared the heck out of us, but I’ll take it.

1 p.m. – That’s it.  I may have caught the most fish, but Skeeter landed the three nicest bass by far.  All in all, it was another wonderful trip.  We’ll be back next year, Lake Jenkins, and we’ll be coming with a tackle box full of scum frogs and salamanders.  Be afraid.