Town of Mercer, Iron County, Wisconsin
No matter how far you have to drive or fly to reach Iron County in Wisconsin, the ride down Highway 51 will allow your mind to embrace nature. You may also want to keep your camera shutter ready.
Pulling off to the side of the lone north-south road, fresh air, serenity, wildlife and endless wonders of nature share in the peace to be found here. Whitetail deer, wild turkey, bald eagles, wrens, warblers, porcupines and one of my all-time favorite birds, the rose-breasted grosbeak may offer a view. The ride to Mercer, Wisconsin, can be a memory-making interval in your life. It is an unforgettable place to visit.
Above all that, there are Loons in abundance. There is only one word that seems appropriate for these water birds, that word is “beautiful.”
Loons are striking in their breeding plumage. Their iridescent-sheen reflects with the sun, their prominent black and white checkered back, deep red eyes, glossy black bill and the natural philosophical expression of their black head are accentuated by white necklace color pattern that circles their muscular neck. They are very special and distinct to watch.
When I arrived in Mercer and checked in at the Great Northern Hotel, I only needed to see the waterfront view from my room window to know that I was going to love this place.
There they were, the Loons, two of them, a pair of love birds, swimming neck to neck with each other, constantly looking over to one another and checking in during a ritual of obvious private discussion. Of course, maybe they were talking with me and I just didn’t know it. I felt they were discussing my presence near to their nest which had two eggs in it.
Both male and female Loons have the same appearance in color and marking, except the male is usually larger in a mating pair. They are both equal in beauty and song tone. Beautiful sounds of nature and wild freedom that echo in the distance and are especially pronounced in the early morning. Their song seems to carry farther with a fog slowly rising off the morning sunrise moments, occasionally sounding like an intimate conversation between the birds.
There was a dock right outside my room at the hotel, right on the shore of San Domingo Lake. I tied on a small snap, added a small lure – a random choice, and headed to the water. I wasn’t sure if I just wanted to just sit down and listen to more of what the Loons wanted to share, or cast my lure. The feeling was serene and comforting. It was peacefully magnificent.
After a few minutes, I instinctively reached down to the bail of the lightweight, open-face reel and flipped it open. The cast gently sent the lure out about 40 feet from the dock –not anywhere near the Loons who seemed quite interested in my every move.
My polarized sunglasses revealed a weed bed not far down from the surface near the point of my lure entry, so I cranked quickly, rod tip high, and after the lure moved only about five feet, it slammed to a jolting stop. Then the line started moving quickly to the right. No, this was not a snag! About the same time, my drag started singing that happy chirping song when it is being tested to protect the line from breaking. Then the drag started screaming and wailing in perfect angler sheet music.
A few minutes later, a nice 18-inch largemouth bass slid into my open hand. So perfect a fish. So perfect a day. When I reached down, the water was so cold. I unhooked the fish and released it to live another day. I grabbed the pocket thermometer in my jacket found the lake to be 42 degrees!
How was it possible that a fish would even think about swimming to catch a lure at that temperature? Ours is not to ask why or how when success is our friend, so I quickly followed up with another cast.
In six casts, I hooked and landed two more fish of about the same size. It was an amazing learning moment! Water too cold, lure swimming very fast, wobbling, making sonic underwater noise and wham! OK, writing that down in the frozen chapters of stored fishing secrets. Maybe that’s why the Loons kept looking in my direction too. Was it the underwater sound of the lure? Either way, it seemed we had a conversation going on.
In the next three casts, I hooked three more fish and didn’t try very hard to land them. They tossed the lure and went free. Tournament release! The Loons kept watching.
I rested my rod. In this unmatchable and unique “Land of the Loons,” a trip to that land of special memories, that place where we never stop sharing fun with time and learning from the mentors we continue to meet, sometimes from the view at the dock. I smiled again.
On some days, life is extraordinary, especially when Loons become part of the regular day in Mercer, Wisconsin.
