Mike Ward of St. Paul tightened his grip on a light-tackle fishing rod that looped over the stern of his boat. The rod quivered and darted as he reeled against the resistance, captivating all onlookers in our flotilla.
We were four days into a July fishing trip to Lake of the Woods and we were all hooking nice walleyes on jigs in 24 feet of choppy water. Twenty-inchers were being released without much fanfare.
But this time, cheers rang out. Mike's brother, Chris, cleanly netted the biggest walleye any of us had ever seen. The brothers scrambled to unhook it under a barrage of shouting from everyone else.
"How long is it?" "Measure the girth!" "Take a picture!" "Get it back in the water!"
None of us had ever kept a trophy fish for mounting. Nor was there a debate about keeping this one. But when the fish checked in at 30 inches in length, with a Rubenesque midsection, we knew its likeness would soon hang from a wall at the Ward's family cabin.
Mike's big-headed walleye was a no-brainer for CPRR: catch, photograph, release, replica.
The fish replica business in the Upper Midwest is going strong. Taxidermist Rick Lax of Conover, Wis., delved into it in 1992 with the ambition of improving on fake-looking plastic molds that were standard for that era. He and other artisans in the craft say business is better than ever, boosted by more catch-and-release fishing and improved realism in the look-alike equation.
"They put the big ones back in the lake for someone else to catch," Lax said. "It's great for my business."