Wisconsin 2002

 

It's not every year that a bunch of friends can get the time to all go out and have a week together fishing, shooting (targets as well as "the shit"), drinking, and just plain having a good time.  Well, my friends Wayne, Seth, Ben, and Phil, and my brother Matt and I all went to northern Wisconsin to do just that.  We stayed near the town of Glidden in a log cabin at Kubley's Joy Villa.  Andy, my youngest brother, who works nearby at St. Croix Rods, and his roommate Brad were our guides.   Some days we employed the services of Carl Kubley, owner of Kubley's Joy Villa, to bring us to the fish as well.

 

Rec Hall at Kubley's

 

 

Good morning Seth!

 

 

Seth and Ben on Gitchee Gumee

 

 

 

 

Would the boat handle the big water?

 

 

Hope you feel better now, Phil.

 

 

 

 

 

The banks of Lake Superior

 

 

 

 

An unsuccessful attempt to ram the crippled boat

 

 

 

 

 

Engine not running so well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They really do exist!

 

 

 

What a monster (yeah, and the fish is big too).

 

 

 

 

 

Supposedly these fish get much bigger...no more swimming for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now THAT is a nice fish!

 

 

Finally a salmon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lake Tory in the morning

  

 

 

Our first sight of the cabin--we would quickly make it our home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first day of fishing started out slow, but after some aspirin, fried eggs, bacon, and warm beer, we eventually we made it to Lake Superior to try our luck for salmon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For most of our merry group, it was the first time visiting Lake Superior.  Seth, Ben, and I manned Andy's boat (which unfortunately was the beer-depleted vessel).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phil and Wayne piloted Phil's boat, much to the chagrin of Phil's dad, who had little faith that his small boat would be able to conquer the big lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, the little boat passed with flying colors, even if Phil did piss on the motor a few times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe Wayne is gonna have to show Phil how to handle a rod....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ok, so we got skunked by the big lake, but we'd show her later that week....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Halfway through the day the motor in Andy's boat started acting funny.  Then, Phil started acting funny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had a great night of chili, expensive bourbon, and cheap women.  Due to the tantalizingly barbaric nature of the evening, pictures will not be forthcoming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day we went to a little lake that Andy was fond of to hunt the elusive muskie.  I started out the frenzy (when muskie fishing, catching 2 muskies between 7 people is considered a frenzy) with a 31" baby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phil and I shared his boat, Brad, Matt, and Wayne shared another, and Andy, Seth, and Ben the third.  Phil was confident that our boat would come back with the most fish (after all, he was using his grandfather's home-made bucktail).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And just as predicted, the bucktail prevailed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But Brad had another trick up his sleeve.  After falling in the water at the boat landing, Brad decided to quiet the laughs by catching the best fish of the day, and quite possibly the only 44" muskie many of us would ever see.  No one even made fun of his "tights" anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So now that we knew what they were supposed to look like, we fished with renewed vigor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Obviously, I hadn't paid too close of attention as to how they were supposed to look, although my anorexic fish, which was 42" long (no, I did NOT stretch it!), was a whole foot longer than any muskie I'd ever caught.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next night we all fished for sturgeon for the first time.  We were unsuccessful (except Andy--he had his only fish of the week--a carp), but we saw a big fish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day at Superior, Wayne decided to put on a fishing clinic.  He almost had our first trout, then pulled in a nice Superior northern.  The rest of us caught a tan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At least we had booze.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We would not be discouraged--off to Superior again to try for the elusive salmon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The morning passed with some strikes, but no fish in the boat.  Shore lunch was quite tasty, however.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But unfortunately for the fish (and fortunately for us) we had employed help this time.  If anyone could get a salmon to bite, it was Carl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wayne, who was quickly becoming a fishing pro on Lake Superior, started us off that day with a BEAUTIFUL northern pike.  It weighed 12 lbs? and was 35 inches long. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then Ben, who had been using the gender-impaired purple spoon all day, broke the shutout with a great salmon.  It put up a great fight, and Ben looked like an old sea captain as he stoically saved the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a celebration that night, with candles, a fire, and Johnny Walker Blue Label.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our last day on Superior--Wayne proved once again that he was king of the king salmon.  Another great fight, another successful outcome.  Hey, this kid could teach us a thing or two about catching a fish (but he kept his secrets to himself).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another celebration, this time with fresh salmon on our table, cooked by our fearless (but not fishless) guide Andy.  Wayne did an excellent job filleting, and also showed us how to dissect out a fish brain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

During the week we also thrashed the waters of Lake Tory and pulled a 32" muskie out.  Then, for our last day, we went to the Flambeau flowage.  We brought in three or four small muskies, and Ben had his first experience with one of the sly beasts drifting right behind his lure while visions of sugarplums danced in his head.... 

 

 

 

 

As with all good things, the week had to come to an end.  We only had one real mishap--a deer took a detour across the road right as I was trying to drive by.  Deer 1, Toyota 0.  That put quite a crimp in the weekend, but everyone helped out and we were able to continue the trip without further incident.  We all learned a lot that weekend, and the rookies took turns teaching the veterans a thing or two.  Ben was captivated by the great Muskellunge--hours upon hours he spent in the candlelight reading about how to hunt the great beast.  He spoke of strategies and statistics that I didn't know even though I had been fishing them since I was old enough to use a baitcaster.  And Wayne seemed to have solved the mystery of Superior after only a few short days.  He showed us that by letting his lure flutter a little he was able to attract the fish.  He was also thinking of something that he wouldn't tell us (we're convinced that's the real reason the fish struck).

Thank you everyone for coming!  The trip was amazing--all because I had great friends to share it with.  Thank you Brad and Andy especially--you were great hosts and we all appreciated the time you took off for us.  Let's do it again next fall!