Pride and Prejudice

A tale of two very different muskies...

The hunt for musky on fly has become a glorified pursuit on social media and beyond. The term, "fish of 10,000 casts," seems overused as is the adoration bestowed upon certain musky fisheries and accomplishments. Fly fishing has always been, and will always be, relative to the location one is fishing, the amount of time someone has to fish, and how much money they have to increase their chances at a successful pursuit. Specific fisheries are simply easier to catch fish in compared to others due to population size, fishing pressure, and geographic location. For instance, a 20" brown trout on the White River in Arkansas doesn't mean a whole lot because they are bountiful and relatively easy to catch. Conversely, the same fish on a small, intimate, and highly pressured creek is a much different type of accomplishment. The same can be said for an angler that travels to the Bahamas to DIY bonefish and catches a double digit fish on foot by themselves. That is a big deal compared to hiring a guide that takes you to the place, spots the fish, tells you when/where to cast, set the hook, and lands that fish for you. This can extend to the swung fly too. A public water Atlantic Salmon is quite different than one from a privatized river with beats, fees, less pressure, and guides that know exactly where the fish are. Fly fishing media places a tremendous amount of pride in accomplishments that should come with an asterisk in the form of the whole story. Most anglers, especially the general public, are ignorant towards what goes into the imagery they see flooding their screens. When that media is saturated with an endless amount of content the lines become very blurry and there is no differentiation anymore. The stories are often unknown and under appreciated. They are replaced with a tap and a swipe never to be heard of, or thought of, again...

The fish of 10,000 figure eights...

Some people have to wait and put in much more effort than others have to...

My most recent musky had nothing to do with my skill as an angler but instead from a series of fortuitous circumstances. I was at the right place at the right time with a fish hellbent on ambushing the next thing that crossed its general territory. Hell, I wasn't even targeting musky, I was fishing for smallmouth bass.  I was using a 6 wt. fly rod, 20 lb. tippet, and a fly that usually won't cause the "larger" musky in this system to move. When this particular ski came out of the depths and inhaled my fly, I was definitely excited about it, my blood was pumping, and I generally couldn't believe it was happening. However, I know the only reason I landed it is because the hook placements were in both the lower and upper jaws effectively sealing the musky's mouth shut. Again, fortuitous circumstance. To build on those, the musky population in this particular waterway is quite high. Combined with it being a creek, there aren't many places for musky to hide from the presentations of anglers. When I do target musky here, multiple fish days are more common than skunkings. This happened to be a larger specimen for the general area, but it is a moment that has happened quite a bit to me and other anglers that fish this spot. Was this fish shared on social media? Yes, and it elicited fire emojis, fist pumps, and a bunch of hell yeahs. Did I make a point to say I was incredibly lucky? Yes. I also firmly stated that I don't think this fish counts as a true "musky on fly," moment due to the aforementioned circumstances. 

On the other end of the spectrum, my main fishing partner Ryan has been targeting muskies on fly for almost an entire decade and recently landed his first "pure" on fly. He has caught plenty of tiger muskies on fly and a bunch of pure muskies on gear, but has never been able to seal the deal on the fly rod. We started the pursuit together back in 2014 and have mostly plied our craft in areas of low population and high pressure. Ryan is the best fly angler and tyer that I fish with, so it is not for lack of skill. It is due to misfortune. If you could compile a list of ways to lose a musky on fly, Ryan would check every single box and then some. Unfortunately, I've been around for many of those missed opportunities. He's had a lot of heartbreak from small stocked pures to losing/missing a 50"+ behemoth we called "Betsy" multiple times. In the early days, Ryan wore his emotions on his sleeves, the heartbreak was visible, the distress playing out in flailing limbs, a collapsing body, and a profane amount of curse words. Those feelings slowly gave way to emotionless reactions. He became convinced that he was cursed and wouldn't even utter a word after a fish spooked in the eight or one popped off boatside. His body wouldn't even flinch. Instead, it just transitioned into the next cast, the next eight, and the next opportunity. 

When his moment finally did come, I happened to be there to net the musky for him and document the experience. For someone that has been through the ringer with musky on fly, I expected more of a celebration, but all Ryan did was smile as a giant anvil was finally lifted off his chest. His first wasn't on an easy waterway, but instead on the most difficult one I've fished. Here, a good day is seeing a glimpse of a ski as it follows your fly at depth from 10 ft. away before spooking well away from the boat. Here, I've only managed to land one, despite losing count elsewhere, in the same amount of time that Ryan has been at it. Here, a musky on fly simply means more. Ryan never shared his first musky on social media and probably wouldn't even bring it up in in conversation. In fact, he hasn't posted in several years. After release, he remarked that the musky was too small to count and immediately went back to casting looking for a larger specimen. For Ryan, it was just another moment in a long line of fishing accomplishments. For the community, it probably wouldn't even elicit a like.

Luck and non-targeted fish don't count IMHO...