What is it about fishing that is addictive? What is it that we like about it? Whenever I get to go, I can never get enough. It turns me into a liar. I tell my wife “just one more cast and then we’ll go.” Well, an hour later I’m thinking about leaving! I was pretty young when I first went fishing. I’m told that my first trip to the Minnesota North Country was in my mom’s belly. “Hmm, wonder if they were biting?” From this point forward I was hooked (excuse the pun). I grew up fishing Iowa farm ponds for the usual bass, bluegill, crappie and catfish. I used to spend weekends in Keosauqua with my Grandpa Gene and he would always make sure that we hit some local ponds. It might be the hottest day of the summer, but he’d be out there in his straw hat, fishing right along side of me. I remember one day catching, what seemed like hundreds to a 7 year old, a bucket of bullheads and catfish. What a day that was, until we had to go home and clean them.