ON LEECH LAKE – A child of Mille Lacs, Steve Fellegy nonetheless was at home on this lake the other evening. A clear blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon and the slightest breeze riffled the lake's surface. Nearby, a sailboat lay at anchor, while in another direction, wake-boarders went airborne. Others swam. Fellegy and I fished.
Nomadic as they need to be, people have forever hustled to stay ahead of the game. Plains Indians chased the buffalo; woodsmen, new stands of pine; computer jocks, the next big thing.
So it has been with Fellegy and walleyes.
"My guiding business on Mille Lacs dried up,'' he said, impaling a red-tailed chub on a sliding-sinker rig. "My clients, like a lot of people who fish, wanted to catch walleyes and take some home for a meal. But on Mille Lacs, certainly by 2013, that wasn't really possible. I had to be honest with them about that. That was the end.
"So I came to Leech.''
A guide for more than 45 years, Fellegy got his start at his family's resort on Mille Lacs. This was a half-century or so ago, and he and his brother, Joe, grew up piloting the resort's three launches, toting groups of anglers onto the big lake, one after another.
Never busier, Fellegy would anchor, troll or drift the large wooden craft over schools of walleyes, bait 10 or more hooks and net boatloads of walleyes. This was before the advent of fancy fishing electronics, and Fellegy triangulated his position on the lake by reckoning shoreline landmarks.
Between trips — the launches were out and back twice a day — Fellegy cleaned walleyes, and fast.