Posted online in September. “Goals for the next 7 weeks.
1. Boat 2 muskies over 50-inches a week.
2. Boat 2 muskies over 50-inches a week.
3. Boat 2 muskies over 50-inches a week.”

A FALL MUSKIE CHALLENGE.
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So yeah… how do you face seven weeks of muskie fishing knowing this is the meanest beast that can break you down each and every day? Sure you think, I’ll just embark on this here quest destined to provide back and shoulder pains, hand stiffness, a shitty diet and all the while lead to the questioning of your own sanity day in and day out. What is the decent plan going into that? Well you know, anyone who understands having lived “the grind” can relate to those many highs and lows during their 10,000 casts because, muskies really are the toughest freshwater fish to catch. So I guess probably what ya gotta do is try and screw your head on straight as ya can for it, and maybe set a couple of goals to motivate yourself for that next level of awesome bullshit you’ve invited your way.

… In my beginning muskies were not something I ever felt tangible. Not living anywhere near them, this fish in mind was not worth the travel. Having to work so friggin’ hard for just a single catch, in some regard any hype over skis was almost detestable. I had pike in my life back then too, lots of ‘em, and was ever increasing those numbers, sizes and experiences across several northern Ontario ranges. They were actually a more endearing quarry that come each and every season would help kick this ass into the outdoors.

The freighter canoe gliding over the shallow Moose, North French, Cheepas and Attawapiskat, such wild and remote waterways traditionally home to the Mushkego Cree, once venturing upon them I would often be free of everything except fishing and all other outdoor tasks very much enjoyed. That’s what it was all about! Big world, full of splendor and challenge… Those earlier days living, energized, honing skills for river travel, studying the water, seeking out fish and always being hopeful, all truly a love in this life. Escaping alone, with Bren or the very odd time a friend was always good for the soul. There became a growing need with this, to capture those moments through pictures and words. Such pleasures and personal times I’d never want to forget. Eventually, once coming to believe that others (especially online) were appreciating these far away fishing adventures too, it was made even more compelling to document and share the northern stories. From an isolated island home my words and pictures reached out and made connections, and any connections simply created a happiness and more motivation to fish. Fish, record, share, repeat… the pursuit and practice kind of molded into a lifetime of doing it… The earlier years fishing pike, walleye and brook trout across northeastern Ontario shaped an angler from then until now.

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So muskie would eventually be a logical evolution with esox. Twenty-five years of pike I still enjoy them in doses but having caught hundreds now in the forty to fifty inch range, once leaving the north to resettle back home in Ottawa, it surely made sense to replace that trophy pike absence with the even larger muskies found here. Truly, esox are an infectious itch that once under your skin must be scratched! These days when traveling north on a fishing vacation, unless any pike at the end of the line is like minimum 46 inches and juicy girthed out, they just don’t weaken the knees like they used to. Don’t get me wrong, big pike doses are still lovable, but once I began actually “catching” muskies; the thrill of that chase made so interesting by the enormous challenge, study and investment, the bigger esox planted some deep roots. A huge muskie to the boat is an ultimate reward. It took five seasons to finally crack that coveted fifty-inch mark too… and when that happened, well, to this day I still feel as though that catch stands very near to the top of all fish catch memories ever experienced. When Len called out the measurement that day, I nearly lost my legs under me but surely lost my mind.

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So anyways, returning to this year and some “motivating.” A first goal was posted back in September on FaceCrack before getting the ski season started. “Seven weeks, two muskies a week over fifty inches.” A hope was to manifest for some consistency and size. To reach the end of seven weeks with fourteen over fifty not the goal, but the goal being two a week, every week, for seven weeks. One could be a fluke, two I felt a reasonable mark. On some waters, three and even four muskies over fifty in a day has happened in my boat, that is great but certainly not the norm. Where I have struggled in past seasons is when the good week or two is followed by a bad week, a really, really bad week. Really fawking bad! Those dark clouds drain the mojo meter back down to the redline. Yeah sure, skunks are gonna happen but over the course of any week if able to fish a good number of days there should come fifties in the boat that have been patterned and well positioned for catching. I know even most great muskie guides recommend at least three day bookings to maximize odds, and they know this because of experience. So again, to try and eradicate such lows the idea was to work smart and hard at keeping good sized fish catches coming to the net. Keep the spirits up!

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The second goal wasn’t mentioned and yet is one I have kept since December 2017 after suffering a late fall run with these buggers, “fish smarter!” Recently looking back at some photos, there wasn’t a grey hair in the beard those days and despite this, I still remember finishing that muskie season realizing I needed to beat myself and the water a little less, and instead learn to better plan out the muskie days. Over that following winter all big fish records were closely examined for weather conditions, wind direction and barometer. This seeded a few little new insights and growing appetite towards even more understanding. “Fish smarter” because, approaching age 50 now these past 25 years I have put this body through some paces in search of fish, and more fish, then bigger fish and so on. A hundred plus days on the water year-after-year, multi-species fishing everywhere across Ontario and Canada, on the road, on the tiller, skidoo, on the land and lakes while on the rod and reel, Jeebus Crispies it doesn’t get easier on your mechanics man… As some saying goes, “a young horse runs fast, an old horse knows how to run.” This season I made some choices hoping to make better strides…

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Been renting a cottage for several weeks. No more waking up in some back bay on the river with the sleeping bag all dewy. No flipping open a frost covered tonneau cover to meet the sunrise from the box of my truck, parked in some abandoned lot somewhere. At the launches I have pitched tents both in and beside the boat, paid too much for the odd motel or B&B and, have slept a good number of times bent kneed and crooked in the cab of my GMC… all for muskies. Brushing teeth in a Tim Hortons washroom and washing my face in the river is manly and all but these days it’s just more pleasant having an actual bed and adjustable thermostat, right there at the waters edge.

And so with a cottage I bring in friends to fish and keep my girls close with me on weekends and vacations. Bren too, she loves a water view, finds peace with that. This season I didn’t host as much though. At first Bren and Leah were often there and the early weeks were still a bit stupid hot and sunny for this thin-skinned ginger. Those were days I just preferred to fish alone or with Bren, either morning but usually evenings while just gone for shorter stints timed with a major and minor. It was enjoyable to relax, play cards, putter about, catch up on the Ugly Pike podcasts while tweaking gear, eating good meals and hitting the hammock for shaded mid afternoon siestas. The easiest schedule being the one you make to suit yourself, a more chill pace gave much more good energy for going hard at the fish during shorter bursts on the right times.
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WEEK 1.

The first days I enjoyed fresh beginnings on the water. Shared one evening out with Bren, a day with my pal Chrish and launched for some easy solo bursts out there too. A relatively flat, hotter weather week, the majors and minors were the ticket for hooking up with fish on a variety of presentations.

The day with Chrish it was good for catching up. One trolling and one casting we managed two mid forties and a miss. With Bren another time, we reeled in her first of the season too. No stranger to fifties this muskie didn’t make that mark but my favorite partner was happy nonetheless. Here are some of Bren’s beauties from the past in black and white, with the color photo being the latest.

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The first week went according to plan, reaching the mark and boating a bunch of fish a variety of ways. One special evening did arrive and open an intense bite window for big skis. Time stamps on the photos were 7:29pm, 7:39pm and after making a quick move another bandit got smoked at 8:12pm. Sundown giants, this was some solo insanity during which three over fifty and a high forty as well, graced the gunnels in a little over an hour. Those are the moments we muskie anglers dream of… Unfortunately though, not the usual photo quality images of the past. Between a small Canon CyberShot, the phone and a Sony A6600 I’m now two seasons still struggling to replace the quality of my old Nikon “when” it would snap low light timer pics on point. The remainder of the season I’d have to work with what I’ve got and some shots will be a bit better.

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WEEK 2.

Over six days I stole thirty hours of fishing. Yeah no, I wasn’t beating myself up with those shorter efforts for skis but shit, I was still pretty invested. Another good numbers week for catches, a lifelong friend Steve reached out asking if I had room for him to fish a day or two. Well for him, I absolutely did!

Steve and I have had many decades to make memories and some of those go back to our teens. With fishing, from different shores around home I remember casting our lines for mostly bass but, as we grew older the odd trips came about to Temagami Lake for lake trout. After moving home in the fall of 09 Steve and I would hook up again. Not every year, just maybe every third or so he would reach out to say hello. Some gar, walleye, lake trout, sturgeon and now a muskie outing too, he has put in some quality time and catches aboard the Lund.

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Now first day for Steve I found him a left handed baitcaster thinking he’d used one before, but he had not. Much of the time he struggled terribly with it and eventually chose to use Bren’s stout spinning outfit to finish the evening. Come next morning I was looking that Lexa over only to find the reel handle was incredibly loose. When Steve would cast, the flimsy state of the handle would shift and engage the spool stopping the reel. It hadn’t been Steve at all to blame for a shitty run the day before, but the reel. So I fixed it up, and that morning he was in business casting just perfect. Quick learner in fact, so quick that when sunset approached he was back of the boat bombing when I heard those favorite words, “fish on!” Well, didn’t he just bump a long and skinny 53.5 incher which would be his first ever muskie, day two of fishing ‘em and an obvious personal best. Is that maybe a horseshoe up his ass or what? Steve has traveled the past couple of years to Kesagami Lake in northern Ontario to reel in pike up to forty-inches, but a muskie of this size and caliber is a different beast to behold. The photo says it all, there’s no EAP and one nervous look in his eyes. I could tell in his moment that Steve was so very concerned for the fishes health and safe release, but it was also a rush, and he instantly felt the moment to be special. My guess is Steve will hold on tight to that catch forever. Then, only casts after the release I’d pop a little 40.5-incher and fifty-five minutes later Steve would call “fish on” again. This time a more robust 48.5’er hit the net, and after cutting hooks and measuring Steve preferred I just hold the fish for his photo and get it back swimming again quick. My old friend would make one helluva good and caring muskie angler.

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For the week we’d kick out two over the goal. Some nights later I’d smash another solid over fifty fish and one “just” under as well. The photo of this bigger muskie is gross though. It looks like a 75-incher having been shot on the wide photo phone setting, it certainly wasn’t as big as it appears to be. Nowadays this is what people are often doing with their pictures and I guess I will too for covering all angles and options even despite feelings that such images can appear too desperate, phony and even pathetic… Nonetheless, its assured this was a tank and at least the image quality was improved.
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WEEK 3.

Put in a full week hammering away for 45 hours. A lot of days on the water I was still very much enjoying the picking and choosing of good bite windows under the right weather to go. By the time I pack a lunch, plan out the attack, go launch, fish the said hours then come off the water, clean and organize the boat and trailer back to the cottage, a six hour day often becomes an eight or even nine hour commitment. This was a week of seven days on the water that I suffered five skunks, a one fish evening and a magical four fish morning.

My bud Mac came aboard one time on a windier tour. First spot after leaving the launch we set up to cast. Ten minutes later I was watching the lure approach the boat when from about twenty feet away this gaping mouth appeared from beneath to inhale it. The fish showed at the surface then dove, but I saw enough right away to know that this muskie was a real deal! A short but intense tug of war Mac was ready with the net and just as he went to scoop the fish locked up rigid and straight as a board. The head attached to net by the lure but the muskie nowhere near even half in yet, the adrenaline immediately surged with a worry this one was going to get free. Opening the bale, dropping the rod I shot around to the other side of Mac who was trying desperately to hold, scoop and shake the net enough to see the muskie bend and fall into the hoop, but it didn’t. Once around Mac and hanging over the gunnel, I reached the fishes tail managing to grab that with one hand and closest part of the hoop with the other then, with only a little forward pressure the muskie suddenly relaxed and folded in. Totally one of those quick moments that sends shivers man! A big relief for both of us. Fuck, I knew and Mac certainly knew we had a super tanker in the hoop.

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And she wasn’t gonna come off either. No hook danger damages but did pop and cut ’em to be quick about it, then just let the fish rest awhile. Giant head, skinnier body, we didn’t know yet? Mac measured a girth before I pulled her out for a bump and photos. Other than that scary net job the rest went smooth.

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A full disclaimer! This muskie was not 58-inches long. The width of the fishes head with angle from which the photo was taken is misleading. The bump board is backwards for me too, I only ever gill-plate hold with my right hand to keep my dominant left free for tools, tasks, camera and such. Best positioned, what I saw on the bump board was 56 inches; if not an eighth of an inch more than that. Didn’t know Mac had snapped a bump shot at all, not until well afterwards, and had I thought about it beforehand maybe it could have been taken to better show length? However, at least with this photo it has head and tail placement where they should be.

2024 and Mac measures this 56 with me in my boat. 2023 aboard his boat I measured a 55.5 which he caught. And 2022 I measured a 56 for Mac when out in his boat too. Just three seasons ago he approached me with a bucket of lures saying he was gonna get into muskie fishing. He pulled out a new favorite crankbait and I said, go troll rod in hand about this fast, over this depth, with this much line out, and within the week he came back with a new muskie tale to tell. A month or so later, we were high-fiving when he hauled in his 56. By the end of the season he was officially just as fucked up as the rest of us knucklehead muskie nuts are. Would come to learn the dude is a real fishing machine.

Back to the present time, we finished this spot off within a few more minutes then moved quick to elsewhere. The bite window was still open. Mac sealed the deal on a skinny one comfortably over fifty, then lucked into hoisting another skinnier, kinda sickly one right at the mark too. And a 48 as well. The “return of the Mac!” A day of amazing fish and a hot sticks.

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WEEK 4

Best week for numbers of fish, alone I hit the water just thirty hours spread out over five days. Four out of the five days caught multiple fish with almost all ranging between 43 to 48 inches, and one a guesstimated 35’erish. Oddly on one day there were three 47’ers boated. A great run for hitting that consistent fifty-inch goal, when this fourth week ended I wasn’t overly upset seeing the streak come to an end. Sure, it would have been cool to stay on target but, being that these five days tallied up the most numbers of any week so far, it wasn’t like I dove into a slump of skunks… Sure, some big fish went missing, what can ya do? There were no rips, follows, nor could I even say big contenders spotted on the electronics.
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WEEK 5.

Fished just two days. A couple of bigger family commitments away and one of those being a trip to NY State with my lovely ladies, the pressure was on to pull off the fifties in very short order. With a friend’s tight two day trip overlapping between this fifth week final day and first day of week six, it was a buzzer beater fifty that would be the one of only two fish caught for the period. The fifty just happened to be a tank though! So, one outta two hitting the mark wasn’t hard to take.

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Some kind of fall photo adventure has been a tradition for my youngest Leah and I since she was little. Usually we ride the ATV into the Madawaska hills some place and last year we left so late it ended up a Christmas first ice tour. This year with planning done well in advance I booked a motel in the Lake Placid area for all of us to take in a scenic roady. To get right to it, we hiked, explored, drove up Whiteface Mountain and timed the colors nearly perfect.

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WEEK 6.

Water temperatures cooling down, slowing and transitioning fish made this week a bit more of a challenge. Numbers were down while fishing a heavy 67.5 hours spread all over seven days. Averaging 9.5 hours on the water per day because company was often aboard, I felt rough at times, went hard! That kind of effort is a full-time job just on the water but add all other details to any day it’s like a 12 hour work shift stuck on repeat. The extra rod didn’t really help that much with the numbers either, the muskies were being daytime shitty and I wondered if maybe it might have been wise to go crazy ape mode 24 hours a day just to cover nights as well? Lol. NO!!! Has anyone ever said muskies suck!?

I have known Dan from my hometown for life but never so much personally until recent years. The retired Chief of Police for the Perth detachment, Dan is an avid outdoorsman who has hunted and fished forever. Since first joining me in 2020, the past while Dan has taken to seeking muskie over all other fishing. Guiding and angling for walleye and bass much of his past, Dan has plied the lakes and rivers from Bay of Quinte into the Madawaska Highlands. Sadly, after his first experience with muskie fishing he turned feverishly ill in the quest to catch that fifty. It’s bucketlist stuff and we anglers all get that don’t we!?! He is working for it and I am helping but still, I’m making him work for it all the same. Dan joined for two days and as said, overlapping week five and six he watched a fifty plus come aboard on his day one. Come day two he fared a little better for himself, catching his new personal best and a very nice, thick and energetic 48. He howled with joy!

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An hour and twenty minutes later I managed the first and only over fifty for the week. Dan snapped a great picture with the sunset rays lighting up the fins real sweet, would have been even better had he caught it. His two days we got two overs and his PB which, considering our history of skunking together the results had us both a little relieved.

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Clive appeared one morning at the launch. No stranger to muskies or my boat, it had been a few years since last seeing him. On the Lowrance his 54 incher waypoint from his first trip is #420, often when passing it I think of him, how that fish came to be caught and what a can of awesome it opened up for the coming years. Basically, he picked an older lure out of my box that I had caught no fish on, had no confidence in, and during that time he no sooner snapped it on, let the line out and engaged the reel, did it get creamed! The fish would be Clive’s first over fifty in his twenty years on the hunt. So, I started using that lure more often and by season end it had more fifties, and another for Clive too. Then, if memory serves it was the following year it picked up back-to-back 55’ers only a week apart. One of the top three baits I have and still use to this day, Clive’s #420 lure pick keeps boating bigger than average skis.

Now Clive’s two previous trips are tough acts to follow. I remember we had three over fifty on his first two day run, scoring two for Clive. When he returned a year or two later we caught a smaller ski but couldn’t manage a biggun. Instead, he got absolutely spoiled on a day trip where we boated 18 sturgeon and just burned ourselves right out reeling in those living dinosaurs. With the bar set so high for Clive I admittedly got stressed out for this trip. Tired from Dan’s visit and the pressure I felt to help him boat a fish, all those longer days and some solo tours too, it felt like I was peeling myself out of bed in the mornings and running on fumes. Clive then shows up, a much fitter man than I and he’s ready to grind long days in tough conditions. FFS!!! (and no that’s not short for forward facing sonar) But anyways, despite my bit of wimp reporting now I will tell yas… Clive got one! ONE!!! Wished it was more but muskies often get the final word. Don’t owe Clive shit anyways, and he knows it. 😉 lol.

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WEEK 7.

Final round got me on the water for four rounds. On one particular day I moved seven fish all on a major but couldn’t get even one to bite. Over this time I managed just two fish yet amazingly… they were both giants!

The second and third biggest fish this season, a couple days apart on two different waterbodies, running entirely different programs did these two fish bite. One had such exceptional girth that she pushed over forty pounds, the other didn’t receive the same time for a full measure. What had me ecstatic with the daytime girl was the fact it was caught on one of my flies. A build I had put away some time ago despite having follows in its past, a little modification the morning before heading out and whammo! And the nighttime fish, well that was rod-in-hand crank trolling that I had been working at all day, playing a focused and tight horizontal and vertical game along the weed edges. When she hit I got to feel that feel only a tiller troller who holds the rod for those muskies gets to experience. The jarring load of a giant suddenly turning your upper body toward her, as she tries to rip the mojo from your grasp. Zzzzt zzzzt zzzzt and we’re instantly both jacked up together!!!

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Adding these two muskies to the one caught in week five and one very end of week six, they actually put me on a four fish in a row over fifty streak; and not just the “just” over fifty fifties either you know! Ripping muthas had me floating in on cloud 9 coming down the home stretch. Jizziants!
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EXTRA DAYS.

Outside the “seven weeks” a few more days were found available to keep going, so I did. A couple solo trips one was so stupid windy I actually had no business being out. It was bad enough that I got pushed around into some shallows and knocked the skeg up some, there was a main channel surf that cold soaked and got me nervy on every cross too. Another day Mac and I boated a 45’er on what was one uncomfortably cold day for me. The wind got in and chilled me to the bone, lying in bed that night the knees stayed frozen stiff long into the sleep. The last day I hit the road to revisit some spots I hadn’t been to in a long time. Fished some old familiar water and a couple of small, tight spots I have never seen another boat at before. One weed bed gave up a 55 years ago and the other a rock hump for a fat 53. But the number of times I had revisited those memories never did I catch another giant. So, arriving I pulled up downriver of the weed bed spot and for the first time planned to position and cast to it. Picked rubber that best matched the crank I caught the 55 on years before. Bombed out, let sink a little, pulled the lure with current home, felt a little bump and nothing. Looked quick to the scope and sighted a muskie ducking back down through the last half of the water column to the bottom. Wasn’t expecting that on first try, such an idiot! Anyways, casted the shit out of that area with a few other choice options then trolled over it while auto-charting, and nothing! The other rocky hump spot is like a full throttle 25 minute run so I gunned it for there. This is a bigger zone with plenty weed edge leading downriver toward a submerged point and that hump. The current is pretty slack, the sonar, sidescan and scope are all picking up bait that appears to be both small like perch tight to weed edge and, bigger arcs like suspended, heads-up walleye out off the weeds over some deeper water. As well, the scope picks up these tiny flashing bait balls of what might be a hundred schooled shad ahead? Sardines? Anchovies? I dunno! It’s wicked tuna how much different bait is spread about but, I drift down beyond it all and toward the hump. I’m casting down river retrieving up, and eventually there raise a tank off bottom on the scope. And it’s a fawking tank too having seen enough fish now live. Anyhow, it goes to bottom and despite hammering the area just a short while, then a return again come sunset, no takers. One of these two spots or both is gonna cough up something special again some day.
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A great 2024 season and quite enjoyed the challenge. The seven weeks eleven fish over 50 were boated with the 56 being the big prize. This is about the normal autumn result and so can’t complain. Average size of all fish bumped was equal of the past three years I have on record too, 46.5 inches. Six muskies came unglued, suffered more skunks than ever but, made up for that with quite a load of multiple fish days. Autumn can be unpredictable so have come to expect catch and no catch days. As well, I shaved off some time spent on the water from previous seasons, averaging a more comfortable 6:45 hours a day. Kept pretty consistent with the trophies and helped all anglers aboard land a fish or two, some even hoisting their PB’s. Most of the time (60%) I was out there alone, one rodding, fishing on my schedule while learning more. When company came aboard we always fished longer and harder hours, except with Bren. The past three years I have found the muskies have moved around a lot, some community holes the skis seem quite conditioned to an array of presentations, possibly my boat, or otherwise they’re just more absent. Hook-ups season-to-season nothing has been quite the same way twice, and thinking on that now it’s probably a good thing, forced to adapt and grow. The “challenge” as noted was to stay consistent over the weeks by boating at least two fifties a week and although I fell short I’m happy with the seasons attempt. Again, a lot of solo work that on a different year if maybe hosting an extra stick aboard more often, might add those few necessary bites needed to hit the mark..? You know, it’s all good either way, just having the chances, being on the water and steadily catching is amazing enough. These muskies are certainly a fish requiring plenty attention to detail and big commitments. Slowly but surely all time and effort will lead to better figuring ‘em out, and hopefully next fall improving still.

Thanks for hooking up here!
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Bunk
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Ummmm soooooo… Report is done but there are some various take aways to share. Hours in the boat often leaves plenty to ponder and discuss. Some things were kept in mind to mention here for any interested..?
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This muskie racket is expensive. Fuel, fuel, fuel, launch fees, maintenance on the boat, truck, trailer, rebuilding and even losing lures, line replacement, cut hooks, broken rods, reel repairs, busted holders, a cottage rental unless choosing otherwise to add more fuel, more wear and tear on the boat, truck, trailer and body. Basically the bill to fish just keeps adding up and so thank you, thank you, thank you to those this year and in the past who recognize and accept the price it is to play. Many days you are not on the water, I am, and when you show up there is in all honesty a better chance you will catch that fish you’re after because of much cost and work done previous. So thank you again my friends who joined me.
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Boat control. This is multi-faceted. For one I have come to find that only with muskie fishing, I don’t prefer three in the boat unless it’s a day of easy trolling baits up high. My deeper cranking style can be anything from sloppy to aggressive to calculated, it just makes for messes if three guys want to run different lures at their depths and the baits have various buoyancies. Two cranks is sometimes annoying enough, especially with line distance tweakers who might not know their curves. And because I don’t fish three people very often, when casting three feels awkward as it can often cram, clutter and distract. Each person aboard I would think is looking to catch a muskie, and sadly too many parties takes the mind off that objective. Trolling I need to be on the tiller, speed, graph, plotter, autochart and watching what is ahead. When casting there is the sonar, plotter, scope, Minnkota and my own casts to monitor. These tasks are totally doable but when the conditions are shit or it is some spot which really requires the right approach to best chance that fish, there can be a ton to keep focus of which, distraction and clutter brings better chance of shitting on those few good opportunities in a day. If I was guiding only and not fishing, that’s a bit different, three is made easier. And so the boat control I speak of here is limiting distractions for creating better chances and certainly, controlling the actual vessel in the right manner while fishing.
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Create some challenges that could motivate you, like this “fall challenge.” If you’re a weekend warrior or just a social worm dangler whatever, just go have fun. My fun is catching fish and memories made with fishing. There’s a fun satisfaction with being better than the day before, learning more and finding out new things. When ready to do so, there is a pleasure with sharing too, and same with helping myself and friends find their great memories through fishing… Trust that in the boat there are both serious and playful life conversations to be had, and know that those moments are made better when you’re hooked up then hoisting one of the biggest, toughest to catch freshwater fish that swims. To do all of that and I believe to do it well, there is planning and prep, a required focus and also the motivating of oneself to always adapt and grow through different challenges.
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Versatility. Damn! A first decade trolling, trolling, trolling and if a cast was thrown it was one or two, once or twice a season. 99.9% of the time living and dying on the troll. Today I still love it but the fish don’t always call for that do they? In fact it’s often the opposite. And it wasn’t until one fella put the right equipment in my hands making it easier while another buddy instilled sage advice and confidence to cast that, I even began to accept doing it. Now thanks to those arseholes I’ll need shoulder surgery and a bigger line of credit in no time but, I’m at least living my best muskie life. Each day out these past five years, more and more have chances been increased by practicing multiple skills and applying more tools for playing this game. Striving to be well rounded and confident with as many angling approaches as possible is a constant work in progress.
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The time management thing was interesting this season, at least to me. By the end of the fall I averaged 6 hours and 45 minutes on the water per outing. Previous year it was 8 hours. So I cut back time and a couple days but instead focused on peak periods and being more rested for those chances. End of the year caught only a few less fish than I did the previous but again fished less hours, less days and on top of that, did more 1-rod (mine only) hours this year than over the previous three. During week six going the full seven days for nearly ten hours at a time on the water, there was a little burnout and irritability creep in for sure. Shit, there were two different periods, one when fishing thirteen days in a row but lesser hours a day, and then the other time going ten days in a row but for too many hours. Honestly believe that I could rail through muskies every day for fifty days straight as long as they are outings tailored to the right number of hours for me, with good breaks in-between shifts.
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Keeping records and studying is important to some and certainly to me. Putting in your time for these fish is a great investment. If you’re an angler who wants to catch muskies (or any fish at all) you’re not doing yourself any favors by being lazy and not taking time after your outings to jot a few notes for later re-examining. With muskies in particular, there always seems to be more available free science and growing community input in their regard, so that can provide a very interesting study as well… Although for years I have written and shared plenty aspects of the personal fishing journey, for the most part life, schedule and circumstance, have kept me comfortably isolated and sorta wired to be a loner. An independent who doesn’t often want to ask or accept help from others. Fishing started out more than three decades ago as an innocently pure joy but because of my line of work it evolved into a healthy escape away from death and dying, sick and suffering, anger, sadness and grief, hate and racism, suicide, injury, pain, depression, mental illness, drug and alcohol abuses, domestic violence, child and sexual abuses, emergencies, blood and guts on my hands, high stress, long hours, a frustrating health system and management and, some many experiences with total screaming terror, frustration and insanity which I have watched fold many the toughest of tough fuckers to sobbing through their own nightmares. One after another each new stress out there steps next in line to seek my help once they need saving. The study and practice of fishing my entire life has been a ying to that yang. It is something those who know me, know that I fiercely protect, it is often my saving… So yeah, just like the earlier decade living in Moose Factory & Attawapiskat escaping the mind to study and body to chase those northern river fish, or past decade living nearly half of each year away from family while an adventuring nomad for Nunavut char and scenery, or even too, the many “Solo Roady” fishing experiences I continue to take, it is with fishing I rarely ask help from anyone. Such a personal pursuit I have had to generate as best possible any new knowledge and insights I can, for bettering satisfying my own angling needs, especially through remote origins and into todays travels. And that’s where a journal is a most valuable resource!!! You can relive your happiest memories and dine on your own meat and potatoes, while adding the many freely offered spices all other anglers and resources make available. With muskies being the example, the past years I have been able to find and adapt on a few patterns. Many of the same things some muskie gurus might speak of like moon phase, wind and weather, fronts, barometer and water temperatures, currents, forage, lure selection; basically their findings, when its your own catches examined under some of those microscopes, you can actually learn bit by bit as you dissect your body of work and then tailor your own fishing to that science. Anyhow, just a long-winded and wordy way of saying, seek more knowledge for more growth by diving deeply into your experience through as many lenses as possible. Try to better understand yourself and “your” fishing. To even consider this kind of introspection you really should provide your own body of evidence as the basis to such study. Keep pushing up your rivers and record your fishing life.