Distinctly Montana Magazine

51 w w w. d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m K evin Owens' house on Missoula's southside is a tidy split-level on a quiet cul-de-sac, giving no outward indica- tion of the dazzling collection within. As the retired cabinet maker leads me past the kitchen up the steps to a short hallway, we hang a right and walk into his office. Looking up, I suddenly feel like a fish swimming into a fever dream aquarium. Several dried tree roots snake across the ceiling, and hanging from them like a Dr. Seuss forest of colorful stalactites are fishing lures. Lures everywhere, wall to wall. Old and new, big and small. Some are bright and shiny as if just out of the package, with photorealistic patterns mimicking trout or perch. Others are ancient and weathered, bleached dull by the elements. A few are hand paint- ed in garish colors that make you wonder what self-respecting fish would have anything to do with them. Wait, is that a mer- maid? More on that later… It's a striking collection, but not as uncommon as you might think. People collect everything, not just the obvious stuff like stamps and coins, but more esoteric items from vintage candy wrappers to refrigerator magnets. There's not a ton of money in collecting vintage lures, although some rare specimens can go for $20,000 or more. In 2003 an 1859 Copper Haskell Minnow sold for $101,200. Buying and selling, though, is not Owens' thing. He's uninterested in researching the provenance or mar- ket value of the lures in his collection, he just likes how they look and loves that each lure has a story attached to it. And he didn't pay a nickel for any lure in the entire bunch. With his wife, Wendy, he literally collected them, mostly from the beaches of Flathead Lake. One of their early finds—Wendy's first—is a true antique. It looks like it could be a Wilson Wobbler, from the early 1900s. It's a simple design, kind of a streamlined bowling pin about six inches long with fluted grooves in the body. The rusty remains of two large treble hooks are attached to screw eyes along the belly. There isn't a speck of finish left on the bare wood, which still has Kevin wondering how his wife even spotted it. "This one is Wendy's best find," he says of the lure that was hiding in plain sight. "She found it in a driftwood pile! That's what kind of eye she's got." It started on Flathead Lake's Wild Horse Island. "We bought a ten-year- old ski boat in 1996, and Wendy's par- ents have a place up in Big Arm," re- calls Owens, who'd met his bride-to-be at a fiddler's jam in Polson. The water-loving couple spent every moment they could on the lake, fishing, waterskiing, and explor- ing the islands and shoreline. Wild Horse Island, a 2,163-acre primitive state park, was a favorite destination—particularly late in the season when the number of boats and the lake's water level both dropped. They found the island's beaches irresistible. "We went early in the fall, when there wasn't anybody else on the island," says Kevin. "The water was pretty shallow. You had to bring a ladder with you to get out of your boat because you couldn't get close to the shore." Other than a few private landowners on the handful of shore- line parcels, the only inhabitants on Wild Horse are bighorn sheep, mule deer, bald eagles, falcons and, yes, a small herd of wild horses. The Owenses loved having the beaches pretty much to themselves, walking the endless miles of lakefront. Kevin still remembers the first fishing lure they discovered in the sand. article and photos by EDNOR THERRIAULT

• Cover