Dave Van Vliet
joined ChiFly earlier this year. He took a leap of faith leaving behind
Stevens Point Wisconsin and dove headfirst into the fray of the big
city. For those of you who have met David, you might have picked up on
the fact that he has a thing for Muskie fishing. He also writes about it
as well. Enjoy his first post here
Beating the Odds with Muskie
One o’clock in the morning and I’m walking out of a gas station
with a few more hours of driving ahead of me before I reach my apartment in
Chicago. Beef jerky, a few “roller” dogs, and a large cup of coffee for the
thermos. The coffee was only for an emergency if I started to doze off,
and evidently I wouldn’t even need it because I was riding the high of boating
a forty plus inch Muskie on a fly! The eat, fight, landing, and holding the
fish played over and over in my head the whole way home. I never even turned on
the radio. They’re the perfect quarry for adrenaline junkies and thrill seekers
alike who pursue fish on fly.
Our story begins
by waking up around nine or ten and meeting Central Wisconsin Muskie Sharpie
Dan Boggs, who runs the Flying Musky Guide Company. He still holds the title
and best jokes ever told in a drift boat, and when things get slow he pulls
them out. Anyways, we’d be fishing a river in the state of Wisconsin. Not going
to say where or even which river, but she’s a dandy and full of Musky.
I haven’t fished
Musky in a about a month, so my excitement was through the roof. We put in and
motored up a series of boulders just downstream from a spillway adjacent to a
deep bank. This spot would be categorized as a “Bad Neighborhood” or a likely
spot for a Muskie to be living. We anchored up and began to beat the runs and
pocket water. We were also stretching out and pounding the deep, undercut bank past the
boulders. To ensure success I wanted to work every inch and seam of this spot.
We didn’t move anything, I even replicated a Muskrat by throwing my house cat
sized fly up on the bank, then jerking it off the bank plopping it into the
water and stripping it fast to trigger a strike. Despite our hard work, we
didn’t see anything here, a common theme of Muskie hunting. We were basically building
up our karma for the next spot. We pulled up anchor and rowed down through a
section of skinny water, around a bend, and upstream to another spillway. This
spot doesn’t get hit by anglers very often, and getting anything but a drift
boat or canoe is up in there is risky business.
This spot almost
looks too good to be true, so much good looking water to pick apart. The spot
held everything from wood, to big boulders which created back eddies with slack
water you could fit my Dodge Durango into. If there ever was a list of top ten
most dangerous areas for a baitfish, this would top it.
Anyone who
fishes Wisconsin frequently knows that the water has an amber color to it,
meaning you gotta focus when looking for creeping Muskies behind your fly. I
was working a boulder strewn bank when I heard Dan yell, “There’s one!” I
jerked my head around to see him aggressively stripping his fly up into a
figure eight. The only indication I could tell that there was fish chasing his
fly was a large white scar across its’ back. I didn’t move a muscle while Dan
worked the fish, and by its body language it was hot. As soon as it was there
it was gone, in an instant. I couldn’t quit tell what went wrong. Dan stuck his
rod deep into the water during the eight and kept the fly moving quickly. Eh,
who knows they’re Muskie, and this spot was too good to dwell on an almost
heist.
We moved several
other smaller fish right up tight to the dam but no nothing would eat.
Questions were beginning to mumble between the two of us as to what we were
doing wrong. After realizing that we were over thinking the situation, we stuck
to our guns and kept on fishing, casting and dancing our flies through bad
neighborhoods hoping for an eat.
We decided to
the leave the holy water and head down stream. We rowed up to a spot where the
current rips flows around a bend after coming off of a deep bank. Right on the
bend there’s two dead falls that provide excellent looking cover. We’ve caught
Muskie here in the past so it was worth our time. We worked the deep bank and
then anchored parallel to the wood and fished it hard. As I was finishing a
figure eight when I pulled my fly out of the water when out from under the boat
swam out a Muskie. GOODNESS GRACIOUS!!! I yelled and the fish was literally
right under my feet. The fish was easily mid forties….just how I like them.
After another
almost eat, we rolled the dice, got off the water and headed to another section
of the river that was equally as good. I know the age old theme is to never
leave fish to find fish, but we only had one day to fish, and without having
the opportunity to save the next spot for tomorrow, we packed up shop and
headed out. The spot would be a dam below a large flowage, and not to jinx our
luck, but Dan and I scored here every time last time fall when all the big
females pushed up the dam to feed before the winter.
We rowed up
river to the dam on the opposite side from the launch positioning in a big eddy
adjacent to the main flow. I am not lying when I say this, but Dan moved a
Muskie on his first cast! At this point in the day it was kinda more of a tease
than anything. At the same time it kept our spirits up and our eyes focused.
Throughout the
rest of the evening we continued to move fish in the same general area. Our
theory was that at dark one of these fish was going to eat, right as the sun
goes down its about to go down.
The witching
hour was upon us, that magical hour right before dark when the boogie man was
going eat one of our flies. I cast up against one of the pillars of the
dam and WHOOOSHH! The surface erupted around my fly and my rod doubled over. I
strip set hard and even managed to get a few more solid strips into the fish
before it dove deep and bulldogged hard under the boat. Evidently what often
happens with fighting Muskies is that you try to land them as fast as possible.
Nobody ever fights muskies as if they are smallmouth bass or trout. The reason
is that people spend so much time and effort chasing them that once you finally
hook one, you automatically want to land it as fast as possible to finally hold
it and see it.
The same thought process
applied here as well, and before the fight even started, it was over.
Frantically trying to get that fish into the net and breathing heavily the
whole time. Let me tell you, when we
finally got her int the net I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief.
We
had
been beating the water all day and my forearms were on fire. We beat the
odds as we could only fish one day because I had to go to work the
next. If you
want to put the odds in your favor you must plan to fish at least three
or four
days. I've seen clients fish five days in a row without seeing anything.
It
happens, but that day we hit pay dirt, and the it made the drive back to
Chicago a
little less exhausting.
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