It Is the Season of the Fish

Anglers have no off season in Door County. Whether it be Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, there is always something biting and biting well. That said, I have to say that my favorite season to fish is the Fall. Not because the fishing is that much better, it’s that there are a lot less anglers. After Labor Day and well into the early winter, the vast majority of anglers are gone, but the fish are still here. The visiting anglers won’t be back until next summer and many of the local angers have turned their attention to hunting or the Packers.  I often have an entire expanse of Lake Michigan or Green Bay all to myself. I can fish all day and never see another boat other than the workboats removing docks and piers or commercial boats setting whitefish nets. I am king of the water. The weather, particularly these last several years, can be very pleasant. Last year, I fished well into December and even caught salmon on Christmas Day. This Autumn season has started out similarly. In the last several weeks despite being kept off the water by pesky winds and a myriad of appointments, I have bagged some of the biggest smallies of the season. Paul and I have boated a dozen or so hard-hitting northern pike and enough “gourmet” Chinook salmon to feed the neighbors. Although I have not targeted perch much, I have heard from other anglers that the bite is as good as it has been in years. The slips at the Baileys Harbor marina are mostly void of boats but fall run salmon are seen swimming between the docks. I plan to take some casts down there. 

As you can well imagine, though I am loath to ever leave Door County in search of fishing pleasure elsewhere, I am particularly reluctant to wander in the fall. So, it took quite enticement to get me to drive four hours to northern Wisconsin in search of a wary prey, the elusive muskie. I was glad I did.

I have fished for Esox masquinongy for at least fifty years. For a time in my life, catching a big muskie was an obsession. Although I did take the occasional muskie trip to Ontario, most of my time was spent in northern Wisconsin. My brother-in-law Den introduced me to the many muskie lakes around Minocqua and St Germain. The shorelines and weed beds of Little Arbor Vitae, Big Muskie, Carrol, the Minocqua Chain, Little Tomahawk and others became quite familiar to me. I spent countless hours throwing bucktails and huge wooden jerk baits yearning to net a big fish.  I did not catch many, often just seeing a fish following my lure was enough to feed the addiction. I caught my first legal muskie while fishing with my colleague Dave in a lake just east of Rhinelander. I had my first multiple muskie day on Little Arbor Vitae fishing with longtime friend Steve. I boated my largest fish with Ed in Ontario, a forty-four incher. The muskies I caught and the people I was with became milestones in my life. Over the years, I have come to realize that the genuine trophies I collected in pursuit of “The Big One” were the time spent on the water, the immersion in the beautiful waterscapes of the Northwoods and the relationships bolstered by a common goal. Life-long friendships were cemented during those many hours in the boat. 

So, it was with a whiff of nostalgia, that I accepted the offer to spend a day in the old haunts in search of these mystical fish. Terry and I have been talking about a muskie fishing trip for several years. Terry, a longtime friend and colleague, still holds a deep passion for boating a big muskie. I must admit, my muskie lust has faded over the years. There are many reasons for this. I like to catch fish, something that does not happen much when in pursuit of muskies.  The main reason is that although Door County does offer some opportunities to boat a muskie, the allure of the many other species of game fish in the county is just too enticing. So many fish, so little time. We finally booked a trip in late October with a local guide. Terry has become familiar with many of the muskie guides in the area. He selected a young, enthusiastic angler, Chistina Truppe.

Terry and I met Christina at Last Cast Outfitters in St. Germain. I approached our guide and introduced myself. Terry had fished with Christina once before, but this was our first meeting. After a bit of small talk, it became obvious that Terry had not filled her in on my fishing background. Christina inquired “Have you caught a muskie before?” It is a logical question for a guide to ask so she knows the level of experience she is dealing with. I assured her that I had indeed boated a few fish and I was not a total novice. With the introductions over, Terry and I followed Chistina to the lake she had selected for todays hunt. I could tell you the name of this lake, but then, as the saying goes, “I’d have to kill you!” Suffice it to say it was a clear glacial lake with an almost nonexistent boat launch. Although this may seem like a bad sign, savvy anglers know that the worse the boat launch, the fewer anglers will attempt to fish the lake and therefore less pressure on the fish. This turned out to be prophetic as we only saw one other boat in the six hours on the water and I think it was a perch angler.  Chistina was prepared for the challenges of the boat launch. Terry and I clambered on board her 20-foot Lowe Bay boat and Christina backed the rig into the water until all four wheels of her truck were in the lake. She then donned a pair of camo neoprene waders and walked the boat off the trailer until we were floating free. Terry and I steadied the boat as Christina parked the rig. Our guide joined us in the boat and soon we were making out way across the sparkling clear water of this beautiful Northwoods lake. It was a sunlight Fall day with temperatures forecast in the 70s.   The fading autumn colors provided a spectacular backdrop for our fishing expedition. I felt blessed to be here. 

Christina’s plan was for Terry and me to toss Swimming Dawgs, soft-plastic minnow lures, while she drifted a large live sucker on a quick set harness behind the boat. We could monitor the sucker using two  LiveScope sonar units. I started casting, watching the silvery lure arch across the cobalt blue sky and collide with the surface of the lake. Soon I was into a familiar rhythm: cast, steady retrieve, figure-eight at the boat, repeat. It was like riding a bicycle. The muscle memory of the many thousands of cast was beginning to reassert itself.  Terry, Christina and I were soon engaged in the usual angler’s banter, exchanging stories, jokes and good-natured jibes. After less than an hour of casting, Christina suddenly interjected into the conversation, “There’s one”! She was referring to a large bright colored “blip” on the LiveScope screen menacingly approaching a much smaller blip representing our bait. A muskie was stalking our doomed sucker. The tip of the muskie rod started to jiggle wildly as the sucker attempted to escape its fate. Then the rod tip took a sharp dip. The muskie had taken the bait. Now is the critical time when fishing muskies with live suckers. How long do you wait before you set the hook? Years ago, you would wait a long time, until the muskie had completely swallowed the food. Old muskie anglers would say that you light up a cigarette and when you are done with it, set the hook. This may have been effective but assured the death of the muskie. These days, with the proper equipment, you can set the hook into the jaw of the fish, allowing you to safely release the fish. But timing is everything. Too soon and you yank the bait from the fish’s mouth. Too late and the wary fish may drop the bait, or worse, it would swallow the hooks too deep. We were relying on Christina’s experience to make the call.  After a few lunges by the fish, Christina slowly reeled in the slack line and handed the rod over to me. Somehow it was determined that I would have the first shot at a fish and I was not about to refuse the honor. I took the rod in both hands and at Christina’s command reared back on the rod and set the hook. Fish on!!!!  I could feel the powerful presences at the end of the line. Several frantic lunges ripped line from my reel. Steadily, I moved the fish closer to the surface and towards the boat. A large torpedo-like shape came into view just under the boat. Following one more futile attempt at escape, the fish came close enough for Christina to slip the net under the fish and lift it to the side of the boat. Success!! After pictures and a quick measurement, the fish was released. It slowly swam away and drifted into the depths to recuperate from its ordeal. I sat down for a moment and allowed my heart rate to come back to normal. Now I remember why I fish for muskies. The thrill is intoxicating.  This was not a particularly large fish, about 35 inches. It was more that enough to get my adrenaline going and feed my desire to feel a powerful fish on the line.  

Catching a single muskie is considered a successful outing for most muskie anglers. Even just an hour into our trip, I felt the time and money was well spent. I could have gone home happy. But Christina was not done with us. Over the next five hours we had three muskies attack the sucker. Each time we could watch the drama unfold on the LiveScope. We boated one of those fish. In addition, Terry and I each bagged a fish that struck our Swimming Dawgs.  Four muskies in the boat is an excellent day! We did not get “The Big One”, but each fish was a unique thrill and combined with the setting and the company made for a glorious muskie outing. As the sun approached the horizon and we prepared to head back to the landing, muskies were still showing up on the LiveScope and showing interest in the sucker. Next time. 

On the drive back home Terry and I rehashed each fish. We both agreed it was a near perfect day. I could only think of how lucky I was. Thank you Terry, and thank you Christina. 

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, Bruce

Questions or comments to bsmith733@gmail.com