Sometimes a picture tells another story. A few years back I was working with this old boy from Houston. When I told him I was from Detroit, lived there all my life, he told me about a discovery he made when he was a young man. It seems our old boy was born and raised in Houston and, like so many Texans, never saw much need to venture across the Red River. In time he took a sales job that found him on a plane, heading for Grand Rapids, Michigan. In January. In the pre- Al Gore 70's. It was cold. Driving to his sales call, he spied some shacks out on an inland lake. When he met with his customer he asked about the shacks. The customer told him they were for ice fishing and he laughed and laughed. He said up until that moment he had heard stories about ice fishing but was convinced those stories were legends passed down by father to son; a real fish story.