A Surprising Bass Story

I thought I’d share a story about myself. While I do most of my fishing in northern Wisconsin, and I fish for large Musky and Northern Pike, this story may be of interest to you Bass maniacs.

This story takes place in small remote lake in Vilas County, Wisconsin. Almost as far north as Lake Superior. Although I grew up in the Chicagoland area, I spent my summers on Little Arbor Vitae Lake. This lake is the center of my childhood. I spent countless hours fishing every summer day to catch my big Musky or Northern Pike. I hunted day after day for these elusive monsters, often tipping the scales at 40lbs or more.

Last year I pulled my boat onto the boat landing of this lake. It was touching 4:30 a.m. and the sun was trying to poke its morning rays through the pine trees on the East side of the lake. The lake was so calm that it was difficult to see where the shoreline stopped and bank of the land began in the reflection of the water. A slight mist crept from the water making it a perfect picturesque wonderland.

The boat gracefully slid into the calm lake disrupting a perfect mirror of water. With a turn of the key, the motor roared spewing a cloud of blue-tinted exhaust onto the water. It was a perfect morning to hunt my big catch.

I knew every corner of this lake and I knew that if I was going to do battle with my monster fish I would have to head across the lake to a little known outlet of water that is connected to the main lake by a small shallow stream. As I raced across the glass-calm water, the bow of the boat split the misty fog like a knife. An occasional Loon would break the surface of the water and disappear just as quickly hunting for Perch and minnows.

I cut the motor as I approached the outlet. I trimmed the motor up and dropped the trolling motor and slid into the entrance of the stream . With the hum of the trolling motor I moved forward, up the stream. I could see the boils of fish spooked by my approach. Soon the stream opened up into a small pond-sized cove. The sight was incredible, almost ghostly with the calm water and mist. With only the faint ripples from dragonflies hitting the surface of the water, I readied my gear.

I connected an 8 inch steel leader to my 30lb line and snapped on my Poe Awakener. This 8” 2oz topwater bait is hard to find. It is considered one of the best Musky and Northern Pike hard baits around.

With a cast of my Abu Garcia 6500C reel , I flipped the bait more than 30 yards. It slapped the water inches from the shore just to the right of an extended Lilly pad area. The bait glided across the top of the water whacking its silvery tail causing a bubbly trail behind it. The moment was perfect. The cast was perfect. The water was perfect. It was one of those moments when you could just feel, with a sixth sense, something was going to happen. I just knew that any moment the calm reflective water was going to explode and my hunt for the monster Musky was over and we would soon be eye-to-eye in battle. Man against monster fish. I kept looking for the distinctive wake of water behind the bait as Muskies tend to follow the bait nose to tail and strike with a vengeance. Yet with every crank of the handle, nothing occurred. The bait sliced through the water and was soon sitting at the end of my rod waiting for another throw.

I swung and watched the bait dance through the air and smack the water on the other side of the Lilly pads, next to a broken deprecated wooden dock. Surely there would be something there, I thought. If I were a fish, that’s where I would hang out. The distressed struggle of a dragon fly in the water caught my attention and peered to my left to see the insect fight to get released from the grip of the water. Without warning, the sound of breaking water filled the air. With a jerk of my neck and the impulse to set the hook, I could see the disruption of water where my Awakener was teasing past the Lilly pads. This was it. This was my monster Musky and the fight was on. Typical in Musky fishing, I grasped the rod with all my might and slammed the rod skyward, once, twice, and a then a third time to make sure the large Awakener hooks where set deep into the boney mouth of the beast. But something didn’t feel right.

I released the spool and thumb-controlled the line release expecting the big fish to start taking line. Often in Musky fishing releasing the spool immediately after setting the hook allows the fish to run for dozens of yards while keeping a taunt line. But this was not the case. Instead of heading out to deeper water, the fish took the line directly to the right and followed the shoreline. I could feel the fish and could tell it was not big. Big Muskies can actually pull with such force that smaller boats are turned or slowly towed in the direction of the run. While I could tell this Musky was not my monster, it was putting on a strong but strange fight. It danced in various directions and sank quickly into the shoreline vegetation.

It took more than 10 minutes to get my fish within view and I was stunned. This big 8” Poe Awakener was consumed by a big Bass. Since I don’t normally fish for Bass, most of my Bass were small and often caught on pan fish baits. Without question, this was the largest Bass I had ever harvested from lakes in the north. Since Bass thrive in warm waters, the short summers and long winters usually stunt the growth of LMB in these northern waters. My fish broke water several times thrashing about attempting to throw the bait and escape. But luck was on my side and I soon boated my biggest Bass. While it is not considered a monster hog by South Texas standards, this was considered a significantly large Bass for these waters. Measuring just shy of 22”, it was a beautiful fish. I did not waste time weighing my Bass. I am a diehard catch and release fan, so my son quickly snapped a picture and we released this wonderful fish back into the water.

Every once in a while there is the perfect storm. The right temperature, the right water, and the right time giving you an experience that stays a memory in your mind for life. This was my perfect storm.