In the sixties he and I went somewhere ice fishing every weekend from ice in until it was almost too dangerous to be on the ice. Duck Cove seemed to be where unusual numbers of salmon, brook trout and togue congregated in the winter.
Being the diehards that we were, we proceeded to set the five traps allotted by Maine law.
Soon after the completion of the setting of the ice traps and as we were sampling our menu for the day I noticed one of Lyndon’s traps seemed to be kind of quivering and of course it was the trap about 200 yards out. Looking again, the trap was now not quivering but started to shake violently. My brother started to walk toward the trap and the closer he got to the trap the violent thrashing accelerated. I believe my brother lost a real trophy size fish because of his worn out gear.
