Dan’s Uncle Lester had a modest abode on the water, the perfect spot for a single man to hole up for the winter. Shorts and flip-flops every day. The hammock. A Corona for lunch. There was a skiff for fishing and plunking about. Dan would fix outboards for cash and sent the occasional postcard back to the Lake View, just to let us know he was getting along fine. The cooler was laden with Wisconsin contraband essential to Dan’s economy: Johnsonville brats and Jim’s Blue Ribbon summer sausage. The Keys were populated with a number of expats from Badgerland, and Dan discovered that a gift of summer sausage might earn him a discount at the parts counter or the bait shop. And when he needed a taxi late at night, it was there in a flash. Dan would head north in April, tan and rested and ready to wrench, with the same cooler loaded with frozen fish.