Saw something pop out this fall I haven’t seen in a friggin’ dog’s age, my biceps. And not only the frontal, roundish, muscular part of the upper arms but as well those two beautiful, bloody vascular pipelines that bulge down beyond the shoulders into the elbows. Why after so much time had they gone in hiding? Because the fish I had been catching just weren’t big enough, and these appendages had atrophied.

This autumn turned into a workout which would change all that.

Arrived home from working in Nunavut to the beginning of my muskie, walleye and bass season and, the closing for valley lakers. Brenda coming along for only her second day ever muskie fishing, as we were leaving the dock she pulls out and bites into a banana… The woman has no clue.

Within only a minute she’s engulfed the whole thing and I tell her she must now throw herself and the peel overboard. She only half obeys… and then ten minutes later she reel peels this off too What kind of witchcraft fishing is going on here?

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Not Bren’s first muskie but she is batting two for two. A really cool looking double toned fish that surely made us smile. She had caught a small one during a dreary day in 2015. This bluebird sky, September Saturday special was a much better upgrade. Earlier that same day, during the calm morning on an otherwise busy little lake, I managed to spend a few hours popping some lakers boat-side. The following morning was spent looking around for smallies. When Monday arrived, curiosity to fish a new stretch of water got the better of me and with some luck I managed to make contact with a decent muskie.
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Still, the weekend belonged to Bren and her very nice muskie.

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September had a short mid month run north for pike and specks. Over the weeks leading into Thanksgiving, some regular shifts around home and family time, the majority of outings outdoors were for muskie. And I shit the bed all over. In fact, never ever had I seen so many fish, had so many rips and follows, and even lost so many hook-ups. It sucked big time. Three different bodies of water and all of them visited two times or more, had fish re-connect with lures in the same areas. The Ottawa and Rideau I was stalking two mid-high forty fish and the Larry was a whole other story. The trolling game was partly on but the casting was brutal. Too lazy on figure 8’s was a big mistake for a few fish and one weak hookset cost me a goody.

Bren had been bitten hard by the muskie bug and she now wanted to fish nothing else. Late September we snuck away to the Larry for a couple days. The forecast was amazing for the Saturday but overnight into Sunday morning it was going to pour up to 40mm’s. No other chances to escape, we booked a motel and went anyways.

Within the first morning minutes I hooked a smaller muskie which required a quick release. Much later, the sun had been down for two hours nearing the end of our day, when a rod was struck violently. The reel lost plenty line quick and I could feel huge head shakes from behind the boat. It was a big fish and it was Bren’s turn for a fish, so when finally able I best adjusted the drag and she was passed the rod.

For a few seconds she had it loaded but then it kinda slowly straightened up. “Reel, reel, reel, Bren, reel,” I called out. “C’mon, get to the front of the boat, reel.” “There’s nothing there,” she replied. “Reel Bren reel!”

It’s most times impossible to articulate and quickly explain why things are necessary during the excitement of those brief moments when a fish is on the line. Bren was on the casting deck, slowly reeling in and convinced there was no fish on the line. There was never a pop-off that I could see and convinced she was wrong the net was in my hand. That reel handle needed to be cranking quick figuring it was coming straight at us with the current.

In the darkness, my headlamp shining on the water, Bren still slowly reels the line to the weed-catch above the three foot leader. A clump of weeds surfaces, “see” she said. Then a whale just out of reach of my net porpoises half on it’s back and half on it’s left side. It is such a huge muskie. Every bit as big or bigger than my own best by length, but it crushes it for girth.

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Floating very still and fully on the surface in the lamp light like a spent log for 3 or 4 seconds, Bren lifts the rod tip to pull it closer and it rockets off below and to the other side of the boat in a flash. The rod bends right under and a surprised wife is heading over the gunnel. She pulls back hard while the fish is going completely the other way when the hooks pop. The ten inch lure returns to us, each treble with a half straightened point.

That muskie just outright fooled her. It had swam to the boat then played us like a fiddle. It was a horrible feeling because it had been about a hundred hours since last seeing such a fish. When it surfaced I should have been in better reach to try netting it too. Just crushed I sat and nearly cried. Still thinking about it two months later I wonder if we will ever see a muskie that big again, Bren especially. The whole experience this trip kinda overshadowed the other very nice incidentals we had reeled in over the course of two days. One thing I know for certain though, is that Bren learned a hard lesson all muskie fisherman learn at some point and time, and now she’s Hell bent and determined to find that fish again.
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Len and I had a chat a few days later think it was. We’d long talked about heading up to Quebec to do some sturgeon fishing for a day and it turned out he’d been in touch with a guide up that way. Hoping to go there was one condition with the outfitter that didn’t work. He would take us but he wanted a guarantee we would not return there ourselves. “What do you think,” Lenny asked. “I think you tell him the truth and let him make his own choice,” I answered. Needless to say, Len received a follow-up email from the guide which simply said, “nevermind.”

Having some idea where to start we decided to go it alone. Before leaving I messaged a friend to ask if he care to join us. Familiar with the waters up that way he further pointed us in the right direction. Feeling confident we took off good and early on a beautiful fall day.

On the water the first four hours there was a bit of exploring and then a learning curve. By mid afternoon we had it entirely figured out. Sturgeon fishing is sturgeon fishing, much like it has been for me on waters like the Fraser in B.C. and Moose in northern Ontario. There were some subtle differences though which did require quick thinking for us to begin catching fish. Once that happened it was non-stop action.

By the end of our day Len and I caught and released 17 sturgeon and lost three. A 58-inch fish was our best with numerous others stretching well over the fifty mark as well. Totally beat up and exhausted bodies, it was truly a day Len and I will remember well for the rest of our lives.

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The start of school to Thanksgiving had been kinda busy I guess. With trip plans to fish down in Florida just after turkey feasting, Bren, the kiddies and I chilled out a little before my departure. My youngest just hitting her teens as part of her birthday I asked her what she’d like to do for a day if pulling her out of school. Leah wanted an outing on the ATV with a picnic lunch. Plenty treats, some sandwiches and her favorite, a small blueberry pie, we turned up some dirt in the Highlands from Barryvale over to Mountain Chute and back. She’s growing up some quick I’m thankful she’s still interested in sometimes spending these days outdoors with her old man. There’s a real adventurous and almost fearless spirit in her I hope is never lost.

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While in Nunavut working during the summer I received an invite to Florida for some shark fishing. A species not that high on my priority list yet still interesting to say the least, the offer was accepted. On the tail of hurricane Eddie a week was spent day and night fishing from the east coast beaches for shark and other fish. By the end of our days I had met some great local folks, caught both a bull and blacktip shark as well as some snook, jacks and a redfish all for the first time. A report at my site already exists which details the trip but, for here are just a few highlights of the fall experience.
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Mid to end of October, over nearly two weeks I would see the water only once. Not until friends of mine called on the 30th to invite me out for some walleye fishing did the I get motivated and mobile again. Warned Brenda right around this time that the next three weeks I’d be busy pounding fish during any nice days. Thank God she understands addictions.

This first seasonal trip to Quinte was an easy one. After a hard day in the E.R. the Friday, come next morning I slipped into the truck and drove down alone to meet up with Ashley and Eric. Knowing and having shared company with these two devout anglers at other times, to have a chance to finally fish together was a welcome and overdue opportunity. A great day trolling, the three of us had plenty fun and managed a solid 13 for 15 day effort with all but one fish being walleyes.

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Following that hot bite two more outings came quick. Regulars aboard each fall, Rob and Paul met for the first time and joined forces aboard the Lund. Shortly thereafter, a lifelong friend Joe came along. The fishing was on the decline and nobody was sure why? Maybe the late season heatwave had something to do with it. Anyways, with Rob and Paul we managed 5 for 7 with four of those eyes in the 8-10 pound range. With Joe we caught only sheep and white bass as I suffered my first (kinda second) walleye skunk ever on Quinte. The two bananas he brought on board may have cursed us.
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It was Halloween when a rare decent weather day presented Lenny and I with one more crack at the sturgeon. Over the last 3 or 4 years I’d seen a couple forum anglers, a writer and a guide provide a glimpse into this fishery but, rarely if ever would I see any others. After sharing online a month earlier about our first trip, over the following weeks several other newbies must have followed the scent trail as they would post up as well. The fishing being just awesome, we had to get back one more time.

Was on the water less than half an hour when the first sturgeon hit. A shorter, colder day than the previous visit, Len and I would end our season catching 13 more fossils and only losing a couple. A two day total of thirty sturgeon is nuts, but what personally made this finish even better was catching three over sixty inches. Understanding, that Len and I first did this on our own without any guarantees, will keep us both smiling during the days ahead.
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Finally a 50-inch or better muskie was the only thing left to chase. Two of the past three years it has happened and Brenda nearly brought one on board this season too. The couple weeks between November 5th and the 19th I put in ten hard days on different stretches of the Ottawa and Larry. My father, Brenda and friends Fraser, Steve and Matt would all join in along the way, but otherwise a handful of times were solo outings while exploring new areas on the Larry. Two small fish and a follow is all I could muster. It was brutal tough. September muskie had been great for fishing; not catching, but November did beat me down hard. This year will be something to really build on though. Some new lures tried but mostly a tonne of new river spots explored, there was plenty fish contact and even more water eliminated. A banana on board, the final small fish of 2016 was Brenda’s. My girl still hot on the hunt for the one that got away. Muskies be damned!

Looking back at this Autumn it’s kinda hard to believe how many enormous and arm breaking fish were caught. Weights and inches exceeding anything I ever expect to raise again, and all during a massive season’s finish rather well enjoyed.
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Thanks for reading,
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Bunk.