The Mystique of Esox lucius 

I was skeptical as I tentatively backed the trailer towards the broken concrete launch ramp. “I don’t know if this is going to work, Ed” I whined. “Looks pretty shallow.” Ed and I were looking for a way to get the boat out onto the waters of Lake Michigan to target northern pike. By late September, northerns start to concentrate in the weedy bays to feed. They are preparing for the winter and beginning to move toward their late winter/early spring spawning areas. This is a great time to find pockets of aggressively feeding fish, providing some of the best action of the year. I had used this launch many times over the years, but with the dropping water levels this fall, I was not sure if I could get the Maggie Leigh off the trailer. The launch was mucky and clogged with weeds, but there seemed to be just enough water to slide the boat in. I slowly submerged the wheels of the trailer, judging just how far I could go without risking getting the truck stuck. When I reached that limit, I detached the boat from the trailer winch and gave it a healthy shove. Success! The Maggie Leigh was floating. Ed and I would soon be hunting for pike. 

When anglers talk about fishing in Door County, particularly those from out of the area, they will reference the salmon and trout action, the world-class smallmouth fishing, perch, walleye, even the hardwater whitefish bite. Very seldom are northern pike mentioned as a target species. Not many people travel to the area to fish for northerns. It is more of a local bite. When I first moved to the county, I did not think much about fishing pike. I would pick them up when I was targeting other species like bass or brown trout. Occasionally, I would set up tip-ups for northerns on Kangaroo Lake in the winter. Seldom did I target them in open water. Then I learned what a lot of local anglers have known for years. Door County has a very healthy population of northern pike and at times of the year you can catch a lot of big fish. I have since renewed by relationship with Esox lucius. 

I have had a long association with these enigmatic fish. When I was a boy in Oconto County, I considered northerns a prize that I rarely caught.  Typically, I would hook into a slashing pike while fishing for bass or panfish. More often than not, such encounters would leave me with broken line, a lost lure and a quickened heartbeat. I recall one incident when I was fishing on Anderson Lake near my home. I had just gotten a brand-new spinning rod with a closed-faced reel, a Zebco 202, and I was testing out how far I could cast a spinner bait. Suddenly the line went taut, the rod doubled over, and the line started to scream out of my Zebco reel. A huge pike (in my memory) had grabbed the lure. To prevent the loss of all the line, I tightened down on the drag a bit.  Instantly, the reel locked up and was nearly wrenched from my grasp. Then the reel exploded! The cover went flying, the handle fell from my fingers and the reel slipped out of the rod seat and dropped to the water. I slumped at the shoreline looking down at the remnants of my new reel. The pike was gone along with most of my line and the spinner bait. 

Occasionally, I would catch a decent northern. When I did, it was usually the biggest fish I would catch all season and I would drag the fish around to show my friends, my mom, my aunt Cora, anyone within shouting distance. It was one of those thrills that keeps me fishing to this day. As a young father, I got to experience that thrill again through my son Matthew. We were camping on a lake in Upper Michigan. Matthew had wandered down to the lake late in the afternoon to try his luck. I was sitting by the campfire quaffing a brew when I heard some excited yelling coming from the lake. I bolted toward the water half-expecting to find a wet child. When I got to the beach, there I saw Matthew standing proudly next to a northern pike he had just beached all by himself. Matthew paraded that fish for his mom, his sister Ellie and anyone in the camp within shouting distance. I was prouder of that fish than if I would have landed a lunker myself.

As I grew more experienced and purchased better equipment, I got adept at catching northern pike. In college, they became my “comfort fish”. I would strap chest waders and a rod to the back of my Honda 350 motorcycle and head for the dam on the Wisconsin River north of Stevens Point below Lake Du Bay. There were plenty of aggressive pike in those waters and I rarely got skunked. What I really enjoyed was that these fish would be active in the middle of the afternoon. I was not really a morning person back then and as a college guy I had other activities to pursue in the evenings. I must admit that those pike caused me to miss a class or two. Sorry Dr. Radke. 

Since those early days, I have had some epic days catching large numbers of pike. Mostly these were of the “hammer-handle” variety. Smaller northerns, say a foot and half or so, are often saddled with derisive epithets including snake, jackfish, pickerel or slimer. I suppose this is because some anglers feel such fish are not worthy of their angling effort. I disagree. Matched with the right tackle, I can think of no better way to spend an afternoon than catching a bunch of aggressive, feisty hammer-handles. On one canoe trip to Isle Royale National Park located in Lake Superior, my nephew Tim and I had two days during which we caught over 200 hundred northerns. Sure, they were all snakes, almost all under twenty inches, but I have never had so much fun fishing out of a canoe. Fishing with light tackle, you could hardly throw a lure in the water without getting hit. Several times I would inadvertently allow the lure to dangle in the water next to the canoe only to have a hammer-handle hammer it. It was a great experience neither one of us will forget. 

Nor will I forget the day Matthew and I were fishing on Clark Lake in the Sylvanna Wilderness Area in the UP when we were attacked by “snakes”. The lake was very weedy, so each time we reeled in a small pike, it was engulfed in a shroud of leafy green weeds. We called it “sushi and salad”. 

Fishing for northerns was also a welcome diversion on many of our muskie trips to Canada. After a few days of not catching muskies, we would often take off to some backwoods lake, hoping to feel the tug of a fish at the end of our line. There was one walk-in lake that Ed and I would frequent near McIntosh Lodge in Ontario. A two-foot pike was a big one in that lake, but Ed and I would have a contest to see who would be the first to catch fifty of them. It was a great respite from hunting muskies where just seeing a couple of fish is considered a good day. 

Ed and I were once again in pursuit of Esox lucius. Not on some weedy pond, but in the gin-clear open waters of Lake Michigan. We were not expecting to boat fifty, but I have had several ten fish days in the fall. One afternoon, Paul and I boated 34 pike and lost several others. And these were not the “hammer-handle” variety. Pike over thirty inches are common and on occasion, a forty-incher will find its way into the net. 

So it was with high expectations that Ed and I took our first casts over a sunken weed bed in about fifteen feet of water.  We were throwing large crank baits, #11 Countdown Rapalas and Huskey Jerks. At times, we troll for these fish if we cannot find pockets of active fish. This day we got all our action casting. My first fish came in at 31”. Ed boated a slightly smaller pike soon after. We released all our fish. This is critical to maintain the quality of the pike fishery in the lake. I do keep the occasional northern, they are excellent table fare if fileted properly. However, the largest fish are usually females, so it is important that these egg factories get returned safely to the water.  Ed did get one such monster soon after. A fat and beautiful forty incher. We quickly took a pic and sent her on her way with gratitude for the encounter. 

By the time we headed back to the landing, with the sun slipping to the western horizon, we had put seven pike in the boat. We should have done better, as I lost several others, but four of the fish were over thirty inches including Ed’s trophy. No snakes, no sushi and salad, just a great day on the “Big Lake”.  

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, Bruce