Postcards from Herr Klaus The Great Fishing Contest

Greetings from Thuringia Forest

My Dear Friend,

There are many traditions in the North.

Some are ancient.

Some are sacred.

And some exist solely because a group of stubborn gnomes refuse to admit that they are wrong.

The Great Fishing Contest belongs firmly in the latter category.

Every summer, when the streams run cold and clear from the mountains, the Thurinickel folk gather along the banks of the Thuringia Hot Springs Creek for what they proudly describe as a contest of skill, patience, and superior fishing technique.

I have attended this event for many years.

I have yet to witness any actual fish being caught.

Nevertheless, the competition continues.

And I must admit, it remains one of the highlights of my summer.

Thuringia fishing contest

The Rules of the Contest

The official rules are quite simple.

Each participant must attempt to catch the largest trout in the stream.

The winner earns bragging rights until the following summer.

The unofficial rules are somewhat different.

They include:

• Exaggerate frequently.

• Never admit defeat.

• Question the measurements of your opponents.

• Blame poor results on the weather.

• If all else fails, insist the fish escaped at the last moment.

The gnomes take these rules very seriously.

Valknickel's Great Discovery

This year's contest began much like every other.

The morning was bright and pleasant.

The stream sparkled beneath the summer sun.

Birds sang from the trees.

The trout, unfortunately, seemed entirely uninterested in participating.

Hours passed.

No fish.

More hours passed.

Still no fish.

Then suddenly a great shout echoed through the valley.

"I have him!"

The voice belonged to Valknickel.

Every head turned.

The old gnome was leaning backward with all his might.

His fishing pole bent nearly double.

The line disappeared into the water.

Whatever he had hooked appeared enormous.

The other gnomes dropped their poles and rushed to the bank.

"By all the pine needles," cried Valknickel. "This one shall be spoken of for generations!"

Even I must confess that it looked impressive.

The line strained.

The pole creaked.

The water churned.

Slowly, inch by inch, the mysterious creature emerged from the depths.

The crowd leaned forward in anticipation.

At last the great prize broke the surface.

It was not a trout.

It was not a salmon.

It was not even a fish.

It was an underwater tree root.

A very large underwater tree root.

Ulvie's Opinion

Ulvie witnessed the entire spectacle.

At first, he stared in confusion.

Then realization dawned.

Then came the laughter.

The kind of laughter that begins quietly before becoming entirely uncontrollable.

Soon he was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

"It is a tree root!" he shouted.

"A tree root!"

Valknickel examined his catch carefully.

He tugged his beard.

He adjusted his cap.

He walked around the root twice.

Finally, he announced:

"It is an unusually fish-shaped root."

The gnomes nodded thoughtfully.

Several agreed.

One even suggested it might still qualify under the rules.

The Trout That Got Away

Not wishing to be outdone, Ulvie soon made a remarkable claim of his own.

According to him, he had spotted a trout the size of a barrel.

The fish, he insisted, was lurking beneath a fallen log near the opposite bank.

Everyone gathered to investigate.

The mysterious trout proved difficult to locate.

Eventually they discovered the truth.

It was not a trout.

It was a dragonfly.

A very ordinary dragonfly.

A dragonfly that happened to be sitting rather close to Ulvie's nose when he first spotted it.

The gnomes found this immensely entertaining.

Especially Valknickel.

Herr Klaus Attempts to Help

At this point I made the mistake of offering assistance.

I suggested that perhaps neither contestant was currently leading.

I further suggested that catching an actual fish might improve one's chances of victory.

This advice was not well received.

Valknickel informed me that I lacked proper appreciation for competitive fishing.

Ulvie agreed.

It is always concerning when a boy and a gnome begin agreeing with one another.

I wisely decided not to press the matter.

The True Champion

As the sun drifted toward the mountains and the contest drew to a close, no fish had been caught.

Not one.

The final score remained difficult to calculate.

Valknickel had captured a tree root.

Ulvie had discovered a dragonfly.

The trout remained entirely uncooperative.

Yet something wonderful had happened.

The gnomes laughed.

Ulvie laughed.

Even the ravens seemed amused.

For an afternoon, friends had gathered beside a stream and enjoyed one another's company.

No one had gone home with a trophy.

But everyone had gone home smiling.

And perhaps that is the finest prize of all.

A Lesson from the Stream

As I walked home that evening, I found myself reflecting upon the day.

Many people believe success is measured by victories.

By accomplishments.

By prizes won.

Yet some of life's happiest moments arrive when nothing goes according to plan.

A failed fishing trip.

A mistaken trout.

A stubborn tree root.

These things become stories.

And stories become memories.

And memories become treasures.

The Great Fishing Contest will undoubtedly return next summer.

The trout will once again outsmart the fishermen.

The fishermen will once again insist they nearly won.

And I shall once again have the privilege of watching the entire affair unfold.

For there are few contests more entertaining than those in which neither participant succeeds, yet both claim victory.

Until next time, my friend, may your days be filled with laughter, humility, and the joy of good company.

Your Friend,

Herr Klaus

Thuringia ForestJuly 1, 1103