Cheese Curds and Kayaks

One of many cool views on the Wisconsin River

I’ve always enjoyed fishing. Time spent with my dad and brother, 100 fish days on West Boggs Lake, the occasional hog. Somewhere along the way though, I became burnt out on 14 hours in a bass boat during the dog days of summer. More time for me was spent swimming behind the boat, or playing with plastic worms than actually fishing. My lack of interest in lake fishing out of a bass boat eventually withdrew me from fishing altogether.

About 4-5 years ago, Josh (my brother) became obsessed with river and creek fishing. Like any good brother, he eventually invited me along. It wasn’t love at first bite, but I have had an annual fishing license ever since (and fishing licenses from 5 different states this year!).

My first river trip was to the Ozark’s…a trip that would both begin and end in tragedy. Early in the morning, after driving through the night, I awoke just in time to see the canoe that Chris and I would be sharing go soaring through the air and bounce down I-70. Luckily, the Old Town only suffered a minor abrasion, and MacGyver (Dustin) was with us. The canoe was salvaged, but Chris’s fishing pole handed down from his grandfather, and about 3 others were destroyed in the wreckage.

Sadly enough, the worst part of this trip is that we caught hardly any fish. That is the tragic ending, in case you were wondering. Through the crappy fishing and loss of a couple hundred dollars in equipment, I still found myself having a good time. The views of the river, and tranquility that can be found in isolation gives you something to take home…even if the fishing gods are not in your favor (which seems to be often for me). This trip, and subsequent trips down many rivers, has revitalized fishing to me. The river turned fishing into an experience I enjoy.

Fast forward 4 years, and I feel like I kind of know how to fish a river. I can identify places where fish will be, and can catch enough to take a few pictures. This year has been one of my more active fishing seasons, and I’ve even experienced the need to scratch a smallie itch from time to time. A recent trip to Wisconsin and local fisheries has given me more enthusiasm for fishing than I’ve probably ever had.

I asked my brother if I could guest blog to share an experience from our Wisconsin trip. My favorite, most memorable catch prior to Wisconsin was landing nice red in Apalachicola Bay this summer…not quite a Bull Red, but it was big enough to snap the rod I was using in 2! I’d never fished for reds, I’ve never even fished saltwater…it was cool to do that without anyone’s help. Let’s get back to Wisconsin though, where some of the strongest fish I’ve ever caught reside. Fish with bellies the size of softballs, and a weird red tint from the tannins in the water. Fish that will draw us back in the near future, I’m sure.

Notice the unique coloring of the fish from this river.

If you ask anyone who has river fished with me, I fish at a painfully slow pace. I find it so hard to pass up good water…and as a result, I’m typically passing up the most good water in an effort to catch up with the rest of the guys. This trip was different for me. I made a conscious effort to stay with my dad and brother…I even threw into virgin water for a decent chunk of the day. About 6 miles into a 9 mile float, we came to a nice size rapid where the river was 100 yards wide or so. This particular rapid was strong enough that I didn’t feel comfortable setting anchor in the middle, and was too big/deep for wading across to fish. I decided to hug my kayak to the right side, and fish a nice pocket behind a couple of large rocks. The other guys flew through the rapid…I wish someone would have stayed back with me.

I ended up with one foot on a rock, and one foot on my kayak to hold it in place. Anyone who has kayak fished knows that getting in position to fish a good area is a sport in itself. I made a couple of casts to the middle of the rapid…by cast, I mean chucking my Whopper Plopper as far as I could. I was trying to cast into a large eddy that was barely within reach. My first cast ended with a 14” smallie, but I knew there had to be more fish sitting in the area. On the next cast, I did my best to tuck right behind the big boulders (thinking the biggest fish must have the premium real estate, right?). I flipped the bail and let it fly, my whopper plopped right where I wanted. My lure chugged across the top of the water, as I anxiously waited…chug…chug…chug…BOOM!!! the craziest topwater hit I’ve ever experienced absolutely destroyed my lure.

It…was…on. I started to wrangle what I knew was a monster fish over to my side of the river. The problem with casting as far as you possibly can, is that you have to now bring what you hook through a mess of rocks and current…your chances of success are greatly diminished. As the battle began, I was feeling pretty good. Because I was throwing upstream to my spot, the current was working in my favor for the first few seconds…then things changed. Once he got below me, it was a whole new ballgame. I immediately came to the harsh realization that this fish had a good chance of ruining my day and trip.

My leg, the one on the rock, started to nervously shake as I thought about the potential on the other end of my line. I remember thinking how cool it would be to hit Josh up on the walkie talkie…“the quest has ended!”. I was patient, which is out of character for me, letting line run over and over. I was at his mercy, along for the ride with little or no ability to control where he went. 5 minutes later, zapped of energy, the beast conceded to its fate.

As I reeled closer and closer, it became apparent that this fish was not a smallmouth, but a Muskie. I was disappointed, but had a huge fish on the end of the line, and that the experience was still pretty cool! I had no way of measuring or taking a good picture (because I was by myself, straddling a rock and a kayak), but he was somewhere between 3.5 - 4 feet…I don’t even know if that is a big Muskie honestly, but catching him where I did on a Medium 6.5 foot rod was quite the experience.

A wise man once told me that a Muskie is “a fish of a thousand casts”. I’ll remember that catch for the rest of my life, and that’s really what it’s all about. Until next time…Danny