Down at the Trails
on a warm summer’s night
You can hear stories of muskies
till the dawn’s early light.
Although some are preposterous
there are some that are true.
You can hear tales of some old stories
and tales of some new.
The plugs that they use
should be considered a joke
Because they are made
by old city folk.
But they are jolly and happy
and fish hard every day.
In famous fishing spots
like stagnant Mud Hen Bay.
So, let me introduce you
to the crew at the Trails
Of the these unique muskie men
and the old muskie tales.
There’s Frenchy LaMay
who knows every trick in the books
As you can tell by his lures
which are covered with hooks.
He must inject them with air
to keep them afloat
And at 10 pounds a lure
he can only keep two in his boat.
And there’s true blue Bruce
Pinske
a man among men.
But what he does to a weedbed
should be considered a sin.
He fishes a weed bed
like no other man.
With T.N.T., depth charges,
and grenades in each hand.
And there’s dandy Jim Burns
who we just can’t overlook.
Who dreams of old Freight Train
on the end of his hook.
But if he saw old Freight
Train
come after his bait.
He’d walk across water
and drive out of the state.
And there’s good old Fred
Hirsch
who thinks just like a fish.
To grow fins and some scales
would be his golden wish.
For when he fishes the Chip
all the muskies seem to hide.
And the ones he catches
just commit suicide.
And let’s not forget
there’s Adolph Sakowicz the bold.
Who’s going to fish muskies
till he’s 90 years old.
The baits that he throws
on the weed beds and bars.
Are from tables and chairs
and parts from his car.
And he’d catch muskies I’m
sure
on these creations of his
But a muskie can’t figure out
just what it is.
You wouldn’t believe
what these men will go through.
It’s a fever inside them
that makes them do what they do.
You’ll remember these people
and their great muskie tales.
That could only be here…
down at the Trails.
