A Musky Session

On the home stretch...

The trials and tribulations of pursuing esox continued over the course of much of 2017. Our natural stubbornness with the pursuit brought Adam and I once again to our home river, which has produced scant results over the last four years. In that time frame, chance encounters with legitimate river monsters have made us unwilling to fish elsewhere. Joining us for this particular float was our friend Marko, all the way from Hamburg, Germany. A true esox aficionado, Marko's pursuit focuses on the pike filled waterways across the pond, but when he dreams at night, it is of the untamed and the out of reach. When Marko comes stateside, we typically take him out to play our game of meat bingo. He wants a musky on fly and for some reason enlists us, and our chosen waterway, to fulfill his dream. If and when it does go down, it will be well earned and probably quite large. 

The plans were too idealistic from the start and as musky fishing tends to do, it gave the three of us a healthy dose of reality. Adam and I arrived at the boat launch in the dark and launched with the sun peaking over the horizon. Marko would be meeting up with us downriver at the next launch where we would continue for nine miles. After a half hour of back eddy bombs and figure eights, a cold front came through and produced a flash storm. Heavy rain and upstream wind left Adam and I stuck in the river and unable to reach Marko. Soaked and quite cold in the May air, Marko met us at the exact location Adam and I put in a few hours earlier.

Amateurs...

Thankfully, the weather cleared and we were able to continue our float. The first action came off a log jam, where Marko's fly got slammed after one strip. After a quick inspection, the fly and leader revealed some damage, a sure fire sign of an esox encounter. Off the oars for the first time, I put on a Chocklett Mega Game Changer and moved a mid-forties fish with a two handed strip. I got have a follow in the first turn of the eight before the big female lost interest and slid away into the depths. In marginal water, Marko put on some big clousers and played with some smallmouth bass. Towards the end of the day, he was able to move a small ski in a deep eddy. The fish appeared out of nowhere and Marko stopped his fly cold. With the hackle dancing in the water, the ski gave it a curious look, before disappearing for good.

Three sightings, one half follow in the eight, and a few smallies equals a typical musky session on our end.