Babes

I grew up on a lake in Minnesota—in the town of Bemidji (the northernmost city on the Mississippi River). Lake Bemidji, in fact → Home of Paul Bunyan and his Big Blue Ox, Babe. Old tales say that Paul Bunyan's foot actually created the lake—look, ya, it actually looks like a boot print ;).

I'm so grateful to have lived on a lake growing up. Wish I would've thought that as a kid. A tourist town with a twist—Bemidji is really unlike any town I've been around. While summers on the lake were awesome—trolling for walleyes, hunting for muskeys, popping ice holes for perch—my favorite fishing spot was actually 10 hours south on a farm pond—with another "Babe"—my Grandpa Babe, in fact.

Do you have that person in your life you could just be your true self around? A best bud? A partner to adventure with? That was my Grandpa Babe. He was an angel. I think everyone that met him loved him. He lit up the grocery store checkout line, the farmers he sold feed to, and his grandkids that he broke with his powerful hugs 😂.

I try to be like him more and more as I age—enjoy a simple life, love others, get outside and move-get as much out of life as you can. The adventures to the farm ponds didn’t always equate with catching a ton of fish. We’d pile into my Grandpa’s feed van or truck and head down some dusty road to a mud hole.

Once at the mud hole, we'd spread out on the shore. Buzz baits, worms, hula-poppers, all coming in hot for the crack at big mouth billy bass. Sometimes we’d get lucky. Sometimes we'd snag some trees and call on Babe to help us out.

Then—we’d hang, grab a ham sandwich, a Pepsi, and some Lays chips. Sit in humid July sun and swat flies…and chat and laugh. I think I was 10 or 11 when I started to realize how amazing these moments were. You see back home was getting harder. My parents split. It wasn’t an easy road for any of us (and I know that to be true for anyone who has lived through a family split).

Heading south was relaxing. An escape of sorts —a spot outside, by the water, where I felt most like myself.

I remember around this time my cousin Seth and I would hang out in my grandparents basement and pretend to be Michael Jordan or our favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. When we weren’t doing that we’d draw and create stuff. One day I remember drawing this picture -in it was me (Butch-my Gpa Babe’s nickname for me lol). Butch and Bud’s Sports Co…I thought that one day it would be cool to run an outdoor biz helping people get outside and relax.

I forgot about that drawing for many years…I ended up going to Nebraska for college. One of the main reasons was to be around my family in Crete. My first summer I stayed with My Grandpa and Grandma. No charge—grateful. I loved hanging with Grandpa and Grandma. Babe and I would head out and fish, and end our nights eating fried chicken in our lazy boys while falling asleep to Nick-at-Night.

One day, I remember my car “The red rocket” engine blew up on the road on my way to Lincoln for work. I gave my best bud Babe a call and he was right there to help. Taking me to work the next few weeks and picking me up between his work schedule -til I could afford a new car. He was just there. After he passed—I learned he was this way to a bunch of people.

Watch and emulate—That is what I learned from Babe. I am not sure he ever told me what to do or gave me advice. He was just there. To listen. To call, to send letters when I was back up north by the “other” Babe. That love is the love we need more of in this world. I do this too-but it seems we just want to tell people more how to live, than just—be there. Babe was a 'I’ll be there” kind of guy.

In college I had quite the ups and downs. One constant was lunch with Babe. We’d frequent the Russ’ Market deli or Culvers. Grandpa was always interested in what I was doing and where I was going. We’d talk about our hopes for Husker football to be better, laugh, eat chicken nuggets and then head on our way.

My last big fishing memory with Babe was on Cass Lake in MN. I snapped this pic. Which my friend Randall later would paint. It was the perfect picture of Babe-In heaven, on Earth. A pole out, hoping the line would go tight, but if not life out here floating—was enough.

A few years back we lost Babe—cancer for the second time. Each time I would visit he got smaller. His thin rail of a body though still delivered bone-crushing hugs. It was hard for all of us to lose him. But people like Babe really are amazing gifts because even when they are gone they still visit —through past and the now. The best parts.

Four years ago on a stressful day I took out my buddy Aaron’s kayak to a local lake. Me, a journal and pen, a gatorade, a pole and buzz bait. As I floated across the lake I was suddenly reminded of that drawing I made when I was little. That memory, turned into an idea, idea to a dream—to actually launch an outdoor co.

I paddled back to shore and got home quick. Researched, created a name (Lincoln Paddle Co.) a logo, a biz plan and a dream…to help others feel and experience what Grandpa Babe helped me feel and experience. The joy of life on the water with good people —and how it can save you, help you and make life so much better.

That winter I got to float the idea to my Dad, who has always been my other fishing buddy. He was in. In 2021 we launched Lincoln Paddle Co.

Four years later…we’ve seen over 5,000 people enjoy a lake day. Each day I drive home I picture Babe smiling as I leave the lake. Another good day.

Now…Its brought a new dream, a bigger one. One I can’t wait to share—soon. But I couldn’t help but think back to a guy name Babe who helped plant this beautiful seed. I hope we all get to have or be a Babe in life ;).