ITS HARDCORE TIME!
The dull roar of the outboard was the only sound we could hear, the boredom of trolling overwhelming us. Tick, tick, a second of silence, then the clicker on the reel went off in a steady tick, tick, tick, as the line peeled off the spool. The pulsating of the rod tip meant only one thing, we were hooked up, finally!
FIND THE BAIT, FIND THE MUSKY
Late October means only one thing to a musky hunter, the chance at the biggest fish of the year. Muskies feed heavily during the last months of open water. The bait fish they prefer, Cisco and Whitefish, are up shallow during their fall spawn and the musky won’t be far behind. For many musky anglers this is the musky season! It’s not for everyone, late fall on the water can be a brutal experience. Weather can change by the hour, and you need to fully understand the implications of fishing this late in the year.
Eagle Lake is known for big blonde muskies, pale silver fish with very little markings. For many, the Eagle Lake blonde is bucket list material.
HIGH EXPECTATIONS
Dave Chaval, Richard Madussi and I packed up on Friday for a weekend at the cabin on Eagle Lake. We had high expectations, as any musky anglers should. This was going to be our weekend to conquer the lake. Weather reports were sketchy at best, lows down to minus seven and a chance of blowing snow all weekend. We were determined to fish through it.
After setting up camp we excitedly hit the water. This late in the year, casting is not an option due to reels freezing up, so trolling is the only option. We set up lines, one to port side, two to starboard, with one on a planer board. Back the drag off, set the clicker on the reels, drop the rods in the rod holders and cover water. That’s the plan.
Our first couple hours were uneventful, we were seeing bait on the graph, even the occasional fish, so we thought. We trolled along a deep breaking shoreline, nothing. I picked a route that covered several mid-lake humps, nothing. Dave suggested the edge of a prominent weed line, again nothing. Just as Day One winded down, Richard’s clicker went off. He retrieved the rod from the holder and tightened down the drag. The pull on the rod was steady, with the occasional hard pump. This had the feel of a good fish, and then suddenly it was gone. No violent head shake, no run towards the boat. Just gone.
MINUS TWO AND SNOW
Overnight temps dropped below freezing, bringing a cool and damp morning. A light dusting of snow covered the dock and the boat. After cleaning the boat up, to avoid any accidents due to slippery conditions, we set off. Arranging the rods in the same pattern as the day before we were confident, we would get bit today. Finding bait is key to finding late fall muskies and it didn’t take long to find bait schooled up along main lake points. Saddles and narrow lake sections that funnel natural current are key areas to look for.
As the sun slowly warmed the morning air, the damp chill lifted, we finally felt confident. Switching baits to slightly more aggressive action, our decision would pay off. Pulling past a main lake rock pile on the starboard side, Richard’s reel screamed into action. At first, we thought he was snagged as the line peeled off with a steady click. Then, the big head shakes of an angry fish.
FISH ON
She stayed deep and fought hard. 20 feet, 15 feet, the line counter let’s you know how far out the fish is. At ten feet she broke the surface. Disappointment. A pike. A huge pike, a fish of a lifetime for many, but not what we were after. A few laughs, a quick photo and off she went. That was exciting for a minute.
BLIZZARD CONDITIONS
By midafternoon the cloud cover was back, as was the snow. So thick at times I was only able to follow my track line on the graph. I couldn’t see the shore 100’ away. These are the moments only a musky angler could appreciate. I’m not sure we did at that time.
DARKNESS
Closing in on sunset, or in this case, darkness, we trolled over the biggest bait ball we had seen. My rod doubled over and sprang into action. Just as I managed to get the loaded rod free of the holder, I felt the line go slack. We dropped a way point over this spot, we felt this could be a viable option for Day Three.
WHO DOESN’T LOVE A GOOD FISH STORY
Warming up with steaks on the grill and cocktails around a roaring fire, we told fishing stories late into the evening. We never said it out loud, but we all knew it, time was running out on our hunt for the October Blonde. Morning brought clear skies, a brisk northwest wind, and cold temperatures. Undeterred we forged ahead. Again, we arranged rods in the same pattern, with similar bait selection. Today just felt different, we had a feeling.
ON THE MONEY
Moving through a main lake channel, bait covered the graph. Only minutes into our first pass, Dave noticed a change in his rod action. Thinking he picked up weeds or debris we slowed, and he reeled in. To our surprise he had snagged a Cisco. Surely, we were in the right area! Within a half hour our path brought us past a weed covered point. Richard’s rod went off and he immediately reached for it. A short fight ensued and yet again, to our shock, another huge northern pike.
At least the bait was present and there were fish around. By early afternoon we were getting cold and, in all honesty, feeling defeated. We had time for one more pass. Remember the last pass from yesterday? We thought that might be the best chance to finish a dismal weekend.
BOTTOM OF THE 9TH
We set up our final pass. My line was on the inside, towards shore. With only a half hour of daylight left we neared our way point from the previous night. Tick, tick, a second of silence, then the clicker on the reel went off in a steady click as the line peeled out from the spool. The pulsating of the rod tip meant only one thing, we were hooked up, finally.
I reached for my rod, it was fully loaded and hard to remove from the holder. I cranked down the drag as I fought to reel the line in. At 30 feet the fish gave up the fight. Not another pike? 20 feet, 15 feet, “It’s a good one boys!” I yelled. She barrel rolled on the surface and the huge white belly and red fins were tell-tale signs of a big musky. She pumped her head down deep a few times as she approached the boat. One pinwheel beneath the boat and she was lined up for the net. We slid her in and I don’t remember if we even said anything at first.
The sight of a big fish in the bag is amazing. You hope it’s over the magic 50” mark but it’s hard to tell. I think I may have said “I think she’s over”. We prepped the bump board and when I reached in to grab her, and got a good look, then I knew. We had caught the October blonde.
Bumping out at 51.25”, she was a fall beast. Thick from head to tail. High fives all around, a successful weekend.
THE MEASURE OF SUCCESS
Only musky anglers can appreciate a trip where you measure success based on one good fish. That’s what separates us from multi species anglers. We have more in common with big game hunters than fishermen. With the hunt for an October Blonde checked off my bucket list, I’ll go back out this fall looking for the elusive Eagle Lake legal, a 54” musky. The hunt never ends.