The new moon of January 28th came and a rare, warm, daytime high of -10C was expected, decided then to venture out for the first fish of the 09 year.
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Much of the way was trailblazing. The river in parts froze terribly, especially around Kwetabohagan. The shallow levels during the fall must have been cause for the uneven ice in the rapid stretches.
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A very full and busy year had passed since last riding upon a snowy river. Big Red sold in the fall, so with just the Bravo now the pace has slowed. Truth be told, taking a little more time out to travel it didn’t feel like I was really missing anything at all.
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THE PREGAME SHOW.
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Reached the home of the Cheepas Monster and drilled a triangle to work. Peace and quiet all around, clear skies, light southwest breeze, after a little jiggin’ in the middle hole decided on a siesta in the sun while allowing two set lines north and south do the work. No sooner got the second rod set-up rigged when in the distance the first got a strike. By the time I ran there a fish was already gone.
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This turned out to be the game over the next two hours. I didn’t get that nap because of being busy jogging from one line to another and back again. End of the day it was evident that small fish were triggering my lines but yet not getting stuck on the big baits placed out for that one smart old fish I know resides in the bay. Ended up eventually getting a snot rocket with a quick hookset, a fish which came after missing eight earlier chances. By quitting time I could have been more upset with the results but it had been three months since the last days fishing and it was just great to be out.
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For as long as possible, I took the afternoon to enjoy the sun dropping on the horizon before packing up and beginning the hour ride home. January surely limited many days for fishing, but this one was a treat.
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The month of February began real cold. Even if there was a day to fish, my wife since the New Year had been grinding through hours working almost two full-time jobs. Our babysitter needed a break and it didn’t seem right me dumping the kids on anyone to get out fishing. Especially so, when I already had a southern road trip planned for later in the month.
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GAME 1. HALF DAY PRESS.
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First days of March came in like a lamb, but only after a week a lion teared that whooly baahhsterd apart and then roared and ripped the Moose a new one.
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Before all went to Hell, Bren and I had booked a day on Kesagami for March 4rth. That morning we woke to a rare winter fog which put our plans back several hours.
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I had slept little the night before. Anticipating the first run loads my adrenaline days before. Six dozen creek chubs had been living in my fridge for two weeks. I had prepared and frozen enough chowder, stew and chili servings to handle five runs in for three people or more. The lures had all been inspected thrice and the auger blade switched out for a brand new one. A couple times I drew out some hole plans for the spot and considered and reconsidered where the quick-strikes, versus the big spoons, versus the jiggin’ outfits should be. Even the previous summer I set out a couple fishing days to strictly chase after fallfish, just so the baitbucket in the freezer would be full. Long story short is that I had a game plan… but now that game had a fog delay.
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Nevertheless, by late morning we were finally out of agony, off the ground, and saying goodbye to Moosonee…
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… Saying Wah-chay to Moose River James Bay…
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… and saying see ya, Moose Factory Island.
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Flying into the fishing area on the lake I was quick to spot a plane already there on the ice. In fact, when he saw us he was quick to shuttle several hundred yards east to where I had hoped to fish. Giving a little distance, John set us down nearby so we could unload and see him off.
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It was evident many people had already fished the lake. Past couple years Bren and I had seemingly been the first to arrive, but this time skidoo and plane tracks lightly covered by snow did criss-cross all around. I drilled a number of holes a little north of where I would have liked to be and by about 12:30 after cleaning out slush and setting some lines, Bren had quickly iced ten walleye within the half hour.
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Years passed saw my wife more content to fish the food while I waited out the trophies, but this year she was more about the other. She picked her pike hole and sure enough by about 2:00pm her bell rang and the rod tip pointed straight down. She set the hook the second she arrived at her tip down.
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A solid fish gave her a run for her money but Bren’s skills paid the bills, she reeled in the prize.
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The day was passing quick as we jigged up numerous walleye. The fella from the plane came by for a visit and introduced himself as Don from Cochrane. He spoke of the many years he’d been flying into the lake and that only until recently did he begin fishing this area. Set to his GPS from the previous winter, Don was convinced he was on the walleye spot. He seemed like an alright guy. For a few hours he fished and managed three walleye, but us, we didn’t see any more pike.
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It was late in the afternoon when my quickstrike rod fired. This was the set-up closest to Don who was south of us and over the pikey area. Arriving at the hole the rod tip was down and line peeling… I set and felt a good solid fish for about five seconds, then it was gone. I quickly reset the bait, really loosened up the drag, balanced the rod and walked away. A half hour later the bell rang again.
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Over I go and this time wait. The tip is bouncy, non-committal. I wait some more until it holds awhile pointing down the hole, the line slowly peeling out off the reel. Finally I take a swipe and feel a second of weight before… nothing. Reset again.
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Meanwhile Bren’s having a productive day, so good she’s picked up a new species for herself.
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After her whitey the south set-up fires with a sudden and violent ring and reel peel. I no sooner pick up the pike box and begin running when the tip springs back up and sits there lifeless. Nothing happens after that.
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The sun is beginning to set. It’s pre-daylight savings time and the plane is due back for 5:30pm. A five hour fish is really a half day for us, we usually spend up to nine hours on the lake. Any time out there in that space feels infinite in a way though. Kesagami is one of the sleepiest giants I know. With Don long gone we are totally alone, the world and wind is so silent for some time. Along the nearest treeline there are moments I swear to Bren I hear faint howling and barking sounds, but the breeze muffles those noises enough to keep them from registering with my wife’s ears. Peace all around until a whisper in the wind. A faint hum over fifteen minutes grows louder and louder until our buzzing plane flies overhead. “It’s game over.”
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First chance in was short and kind of bitter sweet. The walleye numbers were good and the day beautiful but, the many signs of fisher-people and the three missed chances on the quick-strike had me a little rattled. On the plane ride back the day gave me much to think about…
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GAME 2: LOW SCORING WIN.
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March 11th’s return was cancelled due to a Blizzard so we rescheduled for the 16th. Come that day freezing rain kept us grounded as well. The minnows in the fridge received some fresh water and oxygen by this time, for they were beginning to grow quite pale. They weren’t the only ones sick and tired of waiting through the days.
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By Friday the 20th all looked good. A co-worker took the last part of my shift the night before, kindly giving me a break to relax at home while taking time to prepare. The morning saw us off and out of Moosonee by a timely 8:30am. With a cold but full sunny day ahead the hopes were high.
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On the ice we relocated everything a little south from before. A blizzard the week before, again tracks made it obvious many planes had been in since. While finishing up drilling, two skidoos came by and we were met by our neighbors Doug and Betty. They have a camp on the lake they stay at several times a year, and after a brief convo they gave us some space while they set-up deeper in the channel for some walleye.
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For hours Bren and I went fish-less other than a perch. Noon time and thinking of lunch there’s a buzz in the sky and before long another annual visitor to the lake makes an appearance.
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C.O. John. McD first takes some time with Betty and Doug before beginning a walk over to us. While he’s on route one of the pike rods fires and I run over, play and quickly release a 34″ pike. When we greet each other I thank him for bringing some luck.
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John and I met the previous year on the lake. A local out of Moose Factory who works at the Cochrane detachment for the MNR, John is about as nice a fella as anyone could ever meet. Last year when first introduced, he read my card and gathering from my last name looks at me and says, “you’re Moosebunk. Heard about you.”
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John, Bren and I were talking about the very slow fishing, wondering if the increased pressure on the area over the recent years was affecting the fish pop when… ding-a-ling-a-ling-aling! The C.O. being there and all I was quick to announce, “It’s yours Bren’s! Should be a bigger fish, set the hook right away.”
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She did just that and pegged a gnarly tough fish. I had chosen two new different styles (The Pyzer and The Maina) of quick-strikes and made them at home to try on the pike. Bren battled a fish on the Pyzer rig while John and I made our way over to her.
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Several times Bren got the fish to the hole but couldn’t turn it up. We had a good foot of water below the ice, maybe a couple more inches than that, but nothing could solve rolling this pike a little sideways to bend it’s head in. She managed the rod perfectly while I fingered and tugged the line every which way possible. The fish felt heavy and several times ripped off line before needing to be brought back again. After 15 minutes or more, I ran back for the auger and began drilling a hole beside the hole. Very nervous to say the least, I was talking a blue streak with John, Bren and now Doug who had skidoo’d over to see what’s up. “Gotta be a big fish guys,” I babbled on. “I’ve never not been able to turn one into a 10-inch hole. It feels good and heavy too… could be biggest yet.” Blah, blah excited blah.
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Bren controlled the line to the opposite side of the hole best she could and I managed to slowly and safely get that second hole through the 40-inches of ice. Once complete, the fish turned and a big headed pike with jaws gaping open came to the surface.
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Bren scored a trophy for the team.
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The fish wasn’t as big as anticipated, but still big and especially it’s head. The Pyzer rig had been deceiving and the problem, for one treble was firmly in the yap while the other loosely hooked in the back. When we pulled up on the fish to turn it, the two hooks working together provided even tension and ultimately tried to raise the pike’s head and shoulders same time into the hole. Reality was, the pike’s face couldn’t be lead in and up, and nor could the fish actually roll a little sideways while the line was taught. In essence, the rig worked to pull the fish into and up the hole in an almost horizontal fashion, not allowing it to turn vertical. Nevertheless, the first quick-strike fish was up.
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In the immediate moments of pics, measurements and release, I forgot to get John in a picture with Bren. As soon as the pike was in the hole he checked my card, said Wah-chay, then made his way to the warmth of the plane.
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With John’s departure it was only moments later when Don and company set down right on top of us. I became annoyed and angry at first, I won’t lie about that. It’s a 30km long lake with nobody else on it and these two landed both planes and set-up only a stones throw from us. A man after his walleye limit every day, he just won’t take my word and set-up where the walleye numbers really are. Instead his plane and auger shakes the ice overhead of the big pike I quietly and patiently wait for.
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With the company next door the bite shut down a couple hours except for a single hard smash on the Maina rig that was an instant miss I didn’t even have time to get up from my chair for.
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We were right off the walleye turf now. Bren and I have had 40-60 fish days but on this one we ended the day with nine. I knew we were over pike and it was only a matter of time.
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Bren jiggin’ away with her favorite little rod and reel and her favorite little spoon which she always picks… “Honey” she quietly announces, “I got a big one here.”
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Man… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched this girl tame big fish with the 10lb Power Pro attached straight to a tiny spoon. She’s sick!
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I switched up to a new spoon that I picked up in Timmins. Never used the kind before, don’t know anyone who has actually. Bren thought it was too small when she saw it. The thing was no sooner on the bottom when a big fish smoked it. I played and played what felt like a solid pike when at the surface it came off. Bren who had been peering down hole had to tell me it was a big walleye.
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From then until dinner nothing moved. Finally a little evening bite of eyes came about…
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… and some pike too. This average fish entertaining me with a “little” show.
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Johnny at 7:00pm buzzed over when just then Bren suddenly says, “Drew!!!” The Pyzer was down. Bolting over I can hear peel and when arriving I drive the hook. A nasty first run followed by a few big shakes and within 10 seconds I’m reeling in slack line. The plane lands and “it’s game over.”
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Fifteen trips into this lake, twice have there been multiple trophy pike days. This day was certainly a win with Bren’s big pike. Ice fishing could really be her niche being that she’s so steady in her approach, gentle, determined yet patient. It’s great to see how much she enjoys these days out with me. I wonder at times how many women out there would get up at 6:30am, make hot chocolate and get the kids off to the sitters, jump in a bush plane by 8:00am, spend nine hours on the ice sometimes in real cold or blowy windchill days and fish their hearts out..? Only to go home, make a late supper, help clean some fish and repack for the chance of doing it again the next day. She can’t be fishing just for me, this girl must love it too..?
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GAME 3: ZEBCO’S IN PLAY.
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The quick-strike on the left is the one which has had some success the past two years. Problem is, unless fish are in a mood to really chomp deadbaits, I find they’re too ineffective on pike that gently taste their meals. The rig in the middle I call the “Pyzer” rig, as he was fishing pike with one on LOTW during an episode of Real Fishing. The third rig on the right I named the “Maina” as this was a set-up he used on Tobin Lake’s trophy pike fishery. Unlike the rig of old (left) these two new rigs it’s recommended that as soon as you get to the fish you set the hook.
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With the Agent Stevie Zebco on board for his first ever chance to fish Kesagami, I had but one obvious game plan… Help get him his biggest pike ever!
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Having him along was exciting. Stevie’s always game to please, a real stand-up fella whom I’m lucky to have as a friend. He joins me for more fun adventures than anyone of late, and without his company there are oftentimes days that just wouldn’t be either feasible or safe or physically possible without his assistance and our teamwork. The Agent makes “Mission’s Possible” and for that it’s always nice seeing him get on some fish and have a quality time.
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Steve and I had planned two full days with an over-nighter March 21st. Fishing the big lake all day Saturday and Sunday surely was an awesome idea but, when the morning of departure rolled in several snow squalls accompanied by high winds cancelled our day. The lake weather was forecast to be nice through the night, except the -23C plus windchill. Tenting in the open space wouldn’t have been too cozy. Cold or no cold… we had little choice anyways, because the plane was grounded.
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Sunday we were supposed to be gone first thing except that a power outage in Moosonee kept our airline service in bed longer than planned. Bushland Air was making two runs in on the day with two groups slated for full days of fishing. This meant, if we go first we come out an hour and a half earlier than necessary; so to allow the plane to return and get the second group before nightfall. Fair enough, we got off the ice strip in good time actually.
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On Kesagami it was apparent over the first two and half hours that we were going to have a slow day. Not a fish moved before 11:00am, I don’t think?
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I had taken a walk to clear the holes at the set lines when Stevie Zebco yells out, “Bunk I gotta big fish on over here!!” “Alright!!!” Back I go.
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Using Bren’s blessed combo Steve had a small Champ attached on the line. I missed some of the early fight and when I returned to him I seriously underestimated the expected size of his fish. The first couple runs witnessed didn’t seem all that big (figured mid 30″ fish) until I first fingered the line for the head turn and his fish took off on a marathon.
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Stevie remained pretty calm… he wasn’t Brenda calm by any means though. His ice fishing experiences before this year he told me were all tip-up days with 50-pound dacron to hand-line walleye. He did a lot of reeling against a peeling drag at first but then with a little advising settled into a more methodical lift and reel down. He got the fish back to the hole in due time where I was able to assist him pop the head around the corner before securing the fish.
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The small spoon was deeper than usual. Only the end of a snap-swivel kept those teeth from a bite-off. The hook came out effortlessly and before pulling the fish from water I had Stevie open the pike box then come over and take hold of what I knew was going to be his personal best pike. He hadn’t seen it yet… and when he pulled his fish up the camera was ready for every priceless moment…
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It was a tank trophy pike. Stevie was beside himself.
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Giving the fish ample time to breathe atop the hole before pulling it out for pics, the measurements and moments out of water did the fish no worse for wear at all. It was one of the fastest, hardest tail kicks on the release I have seen.
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Great being a part of this moment. Stevie figured his best pike before this one had been about 10 maybe 12 pounds. Now he had something double that.
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The morning fish for me wasn’t going well, although, I had spent a lot of time just sitting in wait. Hadn’t caught a thing and that’s never happened on this lake. Two planes came in and landed a distance away, I recognized them from last year. Come the afternoon a whitefish came up the hole while Stevie had managed a couple smaller pike and eyes. It was a few hours after his big fish that while off clearing the pike holes I found a big surprise. The Pyzer rig had been stripped of its bait and about eight feet of line stolen off the reel in the process. Both Stevie and I were in awe because we hadn’t heard the bell, and the reel rested gently on a chunk of ice that when triggered should have fallen off and been an obvious sign of a hit, or missed hit. I let the event bother me, thinking I’m slipping.
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I no sooner got back to Steve when the other pike set-up had a very soft tug then slow reset into position. From a distance we watched and nothing happened again. Later, while over clearing that hole I found the large spoon had been stripped of its bait. What the fawk is going on here!?!?! Brutal! With Steve’s big fish under his belt the day was left for me to salvage something, but all day nothing. Even after I reset the spoon with new bait, when it fired later I drove the hook and had a hard short lived battle before suffering another loss.
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I took to jiggin’ and hit a pike… finally.
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The smallest pike I have ever caught on Kesagami…
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The day was winding down and so far I had caught 1 walleye, 1 pike and 1 whitefish. Stevie with Bren’s hotstick had fared better, but it was by a mile the slowest day of fishing ever on the lake.
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Plane was buzzing in and we’re collecting the gear when luckily the big spoon rod fires. I got there and made certain to nab a quality fish before finishing the day.
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Quick work of it then the release. “It’s game over.”
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Although I expected more for numbers and of my own fishing, the mission was actually accomplished by the end of the morning. Another trophy pike day and one heckuva satisfied Steve. The other group in on the lake worked water about 100 meters away from us and more down the channel… Those two were at 39 walleye and 1 small pike with several hours to go when we talked to them before leaving. They were going to have a 50 fish day and all keepers I bet too. To me that simply affirmed we were over pike… (a choice made)… and having caught six on the day and missing three other chances at what were likely significant fish, new choices would need to be made for the next time.
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We flew home.
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GAME 4: TRIPLE DOUBLE.
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Poor Bren couldn’t catch a break at all over the next nine days. With little flexibility in her schedule; yet that itching desire to get back on the lake for some more fishing, she switched shifts with co-workers best she could to try and free up time… and so did I. Tuesday the 24th we had it in mind to go but a morning of freezing rain stopped us dead in our tracks. Reworking her shifts again we tried for Monday March 30th but a freak 15 hour snowstorm cancelled that trip as well. Sadly, Bren ran out of options and her ice fishing year came to an end.
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In the midst of waiting, one day Stevie Zebco and I blazed 50km out of town to Renison so I could try a spot that usually produces well for pike and eyes in the spring. It was an hour and half ride to get there and on route I flipped the sled once and broke my auger box. The auger itself survived.
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Once at the mouth of the little bay I got to punching holes. The first had a depth of about six inches of water below the ice. Moving out a little, next hole I drilled the ice near bottom had been sitting atop of a rock and it unfortunately destroyed my new auger blade in an instant. This was the Renison fishing exploration in a nutshell. Luckily, we salvaged the day by dropping back to the Cheepas to chop open some recent holes using the hatchet I had handy. Steve caught a pike and me an eye, keeping the skunk off.
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March 27, 28 and 29 were beautiful days while I was unfortunately at work. The 30th the freezing rain cancelled Bren and I but, then the 31st was calling for sunny skies to fly. It was expected to be a short window for April 1, 2 and 3 were back to freezing rain again. I recruited the “very fortunate” Stevie Zebco to join me for another day on the Kesagami ice. Stevie worked his nightshift and when he got off at 8:00am he zipped over to meet me at Tozer’s. By 8:30am we were in the air.
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John circled his landing area before final approach when out of the corner of my eye I caught glimpse of a black timberwolf running across the lake. Aborting the descent he then zipped us over to buzz the beast as it ran hard for the nearest trees. For Steve and I it was both our second time seeing a wolf. Strange feelings they evoke… and I flashed back to the first trip with Bren earlier in the month. The howls and barking I had heard were not my imagination after all, and from the plane we caught site of many tracks that lined the trees nearby and the remains of a moose carcass around the corner from our fishing hole. Pretty amazing to think Bren and I could have been alone on the ice at times while a pack of lip licking wolves watched us from the shadows of the nearby woods.
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John dropped us off then headed back to Moosonee to pick up another group coming into the lake. Before I finally got settled into fishing Stevie was already six walleye ahead on the day. The eyes were really on for the morning and between ten and noon we were averaging about ten fish an hour. The bite slowed for a few moments around 11:30, the walleye taking cover from a big toothy visitor. Stevie Zebco was up to his old tricks…
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After the initiation to big pike on his last trip, Zebco played this one like a pro. Another trophy pike in fact, caught on a…….. well, take a look for yourself.
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A plane parked behind us with a couple other anglers, they were fighting a big fish same time Steve had this one on. When theirs was up the hole they snapped some quick pics in front of their plane then came running over to have us measure and weigh the fish. The angler and his buddy were pretty ecstatic and I was happy they chose to release that fat bellied prego trophy female pike full of future. Man, it’s great being a part of these kinds of moments. Simultaneous awesome anglinations doods.
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Moments after both pike were released, Stevie’s hotstick still on fire pops two quick newcomers to the game. These whiteboys may have been his first, dunno though cause I forgot to ask. They were nice sized specimens and pic worthy for sure.
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With Zebco holding all the luck these days I was reduced to running back and forth between the jiggin’ site and a deadstick in the distance. A very likely, small walleye, kept triggering the large spoon I had tipped with a fallfish head. I got tired of him later in the afternoon and switched holes for that rod. Upon finally settling down to a mid afternoon beer, a respectable fish came up my jiggin’ hole for a hello.
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But I wasn’t done with just him. While Steve so graciously finished up heating some bowls of chili, I was kickin’ it in the chair when I got a sudden solid wake up.
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Finally a real reel peeler on my light jiggin’ stick. Thought about standing up but I was doing so well figured best just go with the flow. After a good tug of war up comes a biggun.
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The early evening walleye bite was dead. Steve and I were anticipating pike. In the distance the Pyzer rig with a huge quick-strike’d fallfish takes a sudden thud, but before I can even get half way to it a misfire is evident. A little later Stevie shouts out “the far one!!!” yet, same thing happens before allowing a few steps; the big spoon rig suffers a violent miss of its own.
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Time winding down I feel a little tink on the line. Reeling up my jiggin spoon to check the minnow, when suddenly a chasing walleye accidentally propels itself out of my hole a foot into the air landing beside my chair. Steve and I are laughing about it when his line gets struck. “It’s a pike Bunk,” he claims excitedly. Then with some major line rippin’ Stevie’s out if his chair, “it’s a big pike.” I’m shaking my head in disbelief at this point and giving him the friendly finger, thinking… I get flying dink walleye jumping out of my hole and here’s Steve slaying another big toothy. It’s Bren’ s rod, there’s something amazingly magical about it.
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He puts the gears to this one and before the fish was nearing only half spent he had it’s head turned in and it’s body vertically trapped in the hole. Well done Steve… well done!
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Now that Steve’s cut his teeth on a few of Kesagami’s trophy pike and gotten “hooked” by the forty some walleye day we just had, I can’t wait to come up and visit him next year to do it all again. FISH ON!!!
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And the release… See ya next time!!!
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The prize pike kicks away strong and it’s “Game Over.”
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Johnny came in early for us “during” the days prime pike bite. It would have been hard to leave had Steve and I not just released a couple tankers. Man it felt good out there during the calm, warm day, and it was nice to see numbers of both species turn up strong. The morning I had chosen to pull us off the area we had fished the previous two trips and instead move shop a touch north to where I figured the walleye bite would be better. Well, the gold entertained all day and the gators sure thrilled us on our lighter gear. All a part of the game plan.
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GAME 5: THREE POINTERS FOR THE WIN.
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More bookings to Kesagami got beaten down by weather, the Saturday and Sunday April 4rth and 5th pooched by snowstorms. Monday the 6th was the absolute last chance. Opening the blind early in the morn my mind was plastered with a good dose of this…
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dl9IoIY7ghY
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Our pilot John had us up and flying by 9:00am but with a little warning… “Ceiling right now is at 1000ft. Kesagami is at 1000ft and we’re at sea level.” What he was implying is that we may get there and have clouds on the ground and not be able to land. A wicked tailwind we were approaching the lake in no time and squeezed in a landing between sky and earth.
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The team today picked up a newcomer, my uncle Norm. As per usual, I had my right hand man Agent Stevie Zebco along again as well. A spoiling this boy was getting.
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For what may be my last trip into Kesagami for years to come, I wanted nothing but fun. No stress to produce big fish this day. A game plan of a solid numbers outing of walleye ensuring Norm gets a handsome share for his family. Although don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t against welcoming a trophy pike or two for all. Zebco was already well enough off this year.
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The first hour fishing was slow before the boys began nailing walleyes pretty consistently. Myself I tend to putter around alot and rarely jig, keeping my rod set in a holder. Sometimes that works perfect… Stevie shouts, “BUNK!!!” and I’m on it.
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Solid fish. I know right away by the speed in which it shreds the line from the reel that it’s a tank. The fight lasts longer than any in memory but during the battle I’m confident the fish is good and stuck. Afterall, I had a bigger than usual spoon and treble on the end of the line and believed the leaderless PowerPro was likely clear of teeth. I was right and this shit eating grin on my face can only mean one thing…
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The “hoop and the harm.” A new personal best pike. A solid shouldered, fat bellied bronzebacked railroad tie.
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My karma had been running kinda bad with all the cancellations into the lake and all the personally missed hooksets and lost fish in the first few outings. I was on cloud nine now. When the crap luck shifts as it always does, sometimes the sweetest rewards for hours and hours of effort really pay off. It was only noon and I told the boys we could head home now.
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Stunning big fish, and tiring to hold up. And to take it on the light rod was good sport. Without even taking a moment to think about it the fish was released.
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Norm and Steve were great to share this with. They were as excited for me as I was. Kept thinking; maybe even saying, that it was just the perfect way to end the ice season. Without a plane coming back to us for another seven hours or so, plenty more fishing was to be done. Norm and Steve continued to plug away raising the walleye numbers up over the first dozen of a few dozen to come.
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After the big fish I put the rod back in the holder with a fresh piece of meat on the hook and prepared lunch. The team angled on until chow time.
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Was about 2:00pm and “piking hour.” My rod tip slams, pops back up… and then slams again. Feeeeeeesh ON!!!!
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This one was a real test. The fight actually took about twenty minutes. I thought I had a train on the end of the line. The fish felt bigger and stronger than the last. After some time I started guessing that what I had was the most gigantic pike of my life and that it was just too big to turn up the hole. That’s when the call was made for Steve to fire up the auger.
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I handed Steve the rod while Norman helped steady the Jiffy, slowly we began the second hole. A couple times we stopped, Norman cleaned slush, Steve kept the auger going and I tried every which way I could to turn the fish. Then we repeated the process of drilling. Finally, third time was a charm and we punched through the bottom ice. We were met with a whole lot of reel peel, but taking the rod back from Steve I was quick to turn the fish back around and finally up the hole. A great pike a little shy of trophy status turned out to be foul hooked in the back of her head. Not a 50-incher like I dreamed moments before, but surely one really thrilling half hour for us all. Norm I think even shot a little video.
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I no sooner re-baited the hook and reset my rod in position when Stevie jolts out of his chair and is up and running to a far pike set-up. He was pretty jumpy to get a pike and actually nabbed Norm’s turn, but it was all good. He was there so fast it paid off when he pegged a big male pike. The far rods loaded with heavier line and bigger reels Stevie says when Norm and I arrive to him, “man it hardly fought at all. Came up quick.” Normally the Agent is fighting the big fish with 10lb test, this time with 30lb horsing came a little easier. His pike was long and thin, making it into the 40+ club.
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Nice job again Steve. Three trips and how many trophies??? MVP for the team this season…
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Having already been out kicking about through the snow before Steve nailed his fish, I was kinda beat so I sent him back to rebait and set the rod he just devastated. Usually, I’m pretty particular about the pike set-ups but Steve catches on quick and knows his stuff now. This trip… no Maina, no Pyzer, just all old school. Big spoons tipped with meat. Afterall, it was meant to be a fun fish today with good numbers for Norm.
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Speaking of Norm. Steve was still off setting the line when back at the jiggin holes from my opposite ear of Steve I hear the jingle of a bell. “GO NORMAN! JUST GET THERE AND SET IT.” Norm listens and is off sprinting to the other pike rod. Grabbing the pike box I’m hot on his heels.
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Just before he arrives at the rod it’s tip pops up. “DON’T SET IT NORM!!! WAIT!” He takes a moment and gingerly releases the elastic off the rod holder, the tip smashes down again. Norm gives the perfect rip set out of the holder and is into one gnarly beeyotch.
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A lifetime of fishing he rides her out reel well. “Ohhh reely-peely-doods, here comes a great big GATOR alert!!!”
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Steve and I rolled around all over the place in the snow snapping pics. Uncle Norm’s grin never left his face. So glad he came with us. Made it a treat for me, absolutely.
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To be caught another day.
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Evening arrived and both Norm and I actually lost a big pike each back at the jiggin’ holes. No big thang though. The bite slowed and Steve took a turn at the camp stove for supper. We weren’t finished mowing stew long when John dropped in out of the sky an hour early at 6:00pm. Upon landing he lets us know that some nasty weather is heading our way and we could pack up slow.
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“GAME OVER.”
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We jumped aboard the 206 very satisfied with our day.
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For me it was quite possibly the best big pike day I had experienced at Kesagami. Thinking about it now as I type, I can honestly say that there have been so many big pike days over the years with friends and family that have been really exceptional as well. Walleye numbers into the hundreds and hundreds too.
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To share this great finale on this day was just totally awesome. Trophy win for the team. If this ends up being the note I go out on after 18 cold ice lifetime dates with my loved lake Kesagami, I’m happy to consider the moments all well spent.
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Thanks Bushland Air’s, John and Dale and, John and Dexter, for all the safe flights, putting up with my never ending phone calls during winter months and keeping the lines “reel” tight, every time.
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Thanks for reeling it all in with us, ti’ll next time…
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Bunk.