Still Catching Fish of All Species After More Than a Century

The lure holding this yellow perch appears to be
a Daredevle. The angler, Jack, is a Navy retiree
and former fellow magazine editor from the
Naval Safety Center. I gotta believe he's
enjoying his new place on Kerr Reservoir.

That's the story of the Daredevle spoon, which is billed as a lure that has caught more trophy game fish than any other in history. It's design was the handiwork of its creator, Lou Eppinger, who spent a month in the Canadian wilderness in 1906, hammering out a 2-ounce spoon with a thin body and thicker edges.

His unique design enabled the spoon to wobble from side to side without twisting the line. When he was satisfied with his creation, Eppinger returned home to Detroit, MI, and quickly introduced local anglers to his black-and-white Osprey. And thanks to ads he placed in Outdoor Life and Field & Stream magazines in 1918, production soon soared from 1,000 units a month to 50,000.

That same year, the Osprey was renamed Dare Devil, which was inspired by allied pilots and their dipsy-doodling dogfight techniques of World War I. To avoid conflicts with religious folks, however, the spelling was changed in 1920 to what we know today--Daredevle. Simultaneously, the devil-head logo was added.

"Often imitated but never duplicated" certainly applies to this bait. Said Karen Eppinger, current owner and grand-niece of the original owner, "What keeps us on the map is the action. Our lure has more action than the imitations. The metals we use are far superior."

The quality of the paint used on Daredevles also is unequaled. Each one receives between five and seven coats, some of which are applied by hand. Paint quality and the process by which it's baked into the metal explains why the paint job on each Daredevle is guaranteed for as long as the lure is fished.

With 17,000 different lure-and-color variations involved, you might expect the Eppinger Lure Company to be a big operation, but it really isn't. The factory consists of only 15 employees, each with more than 20 years on-the-job experience, and all supervised by Karen, who, incidentally, ties squirrel hair and feathers by hand to more than 100,000 lures a year. In the winter, she packs nearly every shipment. When Karen's daughter, Jennifer, isn't doing the books, she's putting split rings on spoons. And John Cleveland, the director of marketing--he also spends time in the paint booth. The employees of Eppinger Lure Company give new meaning to the term "cross-training," because, you see, each one can do any job in the factory.

Everything at Eppinger is still done the "classic way"--by hand, by people who have worked a long time at their jobs. About the only thing that has changed is the company's markets; they've gone global. Their biggest increase in recent years was in Russia, where the Moscow-based distributor started "ordering tons" for Russia's pike, salmon and big-fish waterways. Internet access also has accounted for some of the boom, with Germany, Denmark and South America joining Italy and Japan as big customers.

Oh, and if you consider one physical move in the last 100+ years as a sign of instability, I guess that might be a lone detractor. That move occurred in the late 1950s, when Lou Eppinger's nephew, Ed, relocated the plant to Dearborn, MI, from Detroit. Karen, however, has no plans for any future moves. "We'll never leave Michigan as long as any member of my family is alive," she said. "Lou and my dad would haunt me."