Wisconsin 2003 -- The Journey Continues
Rec Hall, our home sweet home (at least for the next 7 days)
ROUND TWO!
Our trip this year started on Thursday, October 9th, 2003. Due to an affinity for 4-runners, and because the red 4-runner was scared of deer, we loaded up Wayne's 1990 4-runner and headed north. Behind the 4-runner was a virgin muskie boat, hungry for salmon in the livewell and muskie slime on the seats. We arrived in time for Andy to take us to the biggest muskie lure shop in the world, and spent upwards of 25 dollars in pursuit of this year's killer lure.
FRIDAY
Andy, our professional guide (compensated with beer, cigarettes, and memories), had to work at St. Croix on Friday, so Wayne, Ben, and I, the fearsome trio, launched the boat at Butternut Lake to begin our hunt for the elusive muskellunge. Both Wayne and Ben were muskie virgins, though they wouldn't be left wanting much longer.
Mark and Wayne, getting their lines wet.
Wayne was the first to strike--landing a virginity-ending 24 and 1/2" 'ski with the "dead" suick he bought at the muskie shop. All that Ben and I could do were shake our heads in wonder.
Hey, size doesn't matter, right?
Scenes from Butternut (click to enlarge)
Friday night we had a fire in the fireplace and one in the woodburning stove, and had a delicious meal of taco soup, apple jack, and beer. Some of us then retired for the evening, but for others, the evening had just begun...(details are sketchy at this time).
SATURDAY
(The day of Mandi)
Saturday began slowly for some, quickly for others. Mandi Mae came up to run the Whistlestop half-marathon (I would have joined her, had I not been so lazy and chubby), and we headed out to Ashland early in the morning. The rest of the crew, still groggy from Friday night's carousing, made it to the boat landing a little later in the morning. It would prove to be a day of rain, wind, rain, cold, and fish. It was beautiful.
Ready for the marathon?
Mandi wasn't too excited, but she did great!
The boats split up, Wayne, Mandi, and I in the Lund, and Andy, Brad, and Ben in the Alumacraft. Both boats would prove seaworthy through the gail that would hit later that afternoon, although it would appear that Ben would have to shift his obviously superior weight to the back.
The boat had a slight lean toward the bow...
Andy, our trusty guide, started off the action with a nice steelhead in the Onion. We would see more steelhead that week, and only one would top his fish that day. Brad also got into the action, setting his sights on a nice Atlantic salmon. But it was Mandi Mae that won the day. Mandi, who had learned to cast a spinning rod in one afternoon last month out on the Missouri river, caught a nice Splake trout and a beautiful Brown trout. Unfortunately, a fish-ID error by the guide (me) cost her the Brown, but we would get nice fillets from the Splake. She nonchalantly called out "I think I got one," for each fish, and fought them perfectly, showing grace under fire from an overly-excited guide.
Mandi, with her Brown I mistook for a rainbow (I look like I'm sitting on a fishhook)
Brad with his Atlantic, Andy with his Steelhead, and Mandi with her Splake (click to enlarge)
Then the rains came, and oh, how it blow! The Lund crew sought the shelter of the high cliffs, but there would be no shelter from the torrential rain. The Alumacraft crew was further down the shoreline and had water up to their ankles as they raced for shelter of their own. Their bow dipped into the waves, taking in water on top of the rain. They were also almost thrown onto shore, but there was fishing to do, and Brad fished with one hand while deftly operating the motor with the other hand to keep them off the rocks. It was beautiful salmon weather, and we had filleting to do that night.
SUNDAY
Sunday was a day of rest (for Wayne) after another full night of carousing. Again, details are sketchy, but there was a tattooed woman involved. Wayne was particularly motionless that day; his soul (and liver) needed a rest. The rest of the crew headed to the Turtle Flambeau Flowage where we succeeded on catching a couple baby pikes, a buzz, and grinding a few miles off my prop. We did, however, get to listen to the Packers game on the radio, and had a peaceful day.
Brad and Ben on the flowage
Andy, having some pudding with a bucktail
MONDAY
Monday we made a trip to Namakagon in search of the elusive Muskie again. Wayne, who already had one in his ledger, was confident (and sober), but Ben and I were still unsure of our hunting abilities. We caught a couple pikes--Ben and I each caught our first fish of the trip. Ben also, showing his adeptness, hooked his own thumb. But no 'skis were risen this day.
Happy to be out on the lake on a beautiful day
Wayne and Mark hangin' out. Ben and Andy showing off their "trophies."
TUESDAY
(The Day of Ben)
Tuesday would turn out to be a day to remember forever. It started off ordinarily-enough, with us getting our suckers and heading out to Springstead lake. Ben and I were neck-and-neck in the lack-of-hygiene contest, both of us having gone a few days without showering (Ben's last shower was Friday morning, mine was Saturday morning). The boats split up -- Wayne and I in one, and Ben and Andy in the other. We decided to place a bet -- $1 for the first 'ski, $5 for the first legal, and $5 for the longest.
It looked as though Wayne and I were going to win at least some of that money. Wayne, working his suick like a seasoned professional, and myself, using the suick that won me so many fish last year, started pounding the first bay, and within an hour had a strike and watched a muskie jump clean out of the water to grab my lure. I missed it. Andy and Ben were pretty luckless, but Ben did catch a 30# log with a crawdad aboard (the crawdad stuck with us in the livewell for the rest of the trip -- he was affectionately named "Pinchy."
Catch of the Day?
Then, things started to get interesting. Wayne and I pulled a sucker out into a windy little bay and all the sudden, the sucker began behaving oddly. Wayne said, "I think something's on the sucker," but I dismissed it as weeds. When Wayne insisted that he thought something was amiss, I told him to reel in slowly and give a huge jerk if he felt a fish. Well, the only big jerks in the boat were the fishermen, because the next thing we knew a huge muskie was grinning at us with our sucker in his mouth. A quick jump, flip, and splash, and he was gone. Wayne and I were freaked out -- and disappointed that we had missed an opportunity for such a wonderful fish. We radioed to Ben and Andy the news, and Andy said, "yeah, Brad had him on earlier this spring. He's a big one." Wayne and I cast and trolled over the area a few more times, then dejectedly headed to another bay.
Meanwhile, the screws of fate were turning. Andy and Ben tried a few more bays of their own, unsuccessfully, then pushed to the spot where Wayne and I had been a couple hours before. After trolling the sucker and casting over the spot a few hundred times, they stopped for a little break and fought the now-strong wind. Andy said, "Well, you can't catch fish without getting the lures wet," and they both started casting again. Suddenly, the bobber disappeared beneath the water, and Ben began the painstaking task of waiting. They were using a circle-hook set for the sucker, a set designed to hook the muskie by the mouth after it had eaten the sucker. But the muskie had to finish eating the sucker first, and if it felt the hook or was spooked by the boat, it might spit the sucker.
Andy said, "I'll have a cigarrette, and after it's done, we'll bring him in." The bobber surfaced, and ulcers started forming in Ben's and Andy's stomachs. Andy, who had never used the circle hook set before, swore to himself and said, "I'll have another cigarrette first." After he was done with the second cigarrette, he said, "Ok Ben, say 10 Hail Mary's and start reeling."
When the fish cleared the water for the first time, Andy said, "Whoa, it's a big one!!" The rest of the fight was a bit of a blur for the two fishermen, as excitement clouded judgement and memory. Andy refused to get the net until the fish was close to the boat, afraid that he would knock the fish off the hook if he tried to net it too soon. Ben screamed frantically for the net anyway. In the end, a fish lay in the bottom of the boat, bloated from the sucker meal, and with a circle hook neatly in the corner of its mouth. Ben's first muskie was no baby -- it was 41 and 1/2 inches long and approximately 25 pounds of pure killing machine. After a couple pictures, the muskie was back in the lake to hunt another day, still full from his sucker meal.
Ben and his monster (notice the sucker-bulge in the upper-abdomen)
Another pose with his muskie, and a pose with the victory cigar (click to enlarge -- no need to enlarge the muskie)