Fishing opener came to the Chain on Saturday under a sky so clear it seemed almost accusatory. The temperature at first light sat low enough to make coffee steam sideways, the lake lay flat enough to show every ripple, and the walleyes, according to most people interviewed by this paper, were present in the spiritual sense.

By 5:10 a.m., trucks and trailers had filled the main lot at Big Pelican Landing and begun the annual migration toward the shoulder. Headlamps moved through the mist. Thermoses changed hands. Someone dropped a net, someone else said that was bad luck, and a third person reminded both of them that luck is what people talk about when they have not yet found fish.