That night, our musky guide, Don Larson (the Pondmonster), provides tips on proper musky leader construction, including the wire bite guard. Kate is also 'pro-wire' and her 9wt gets a new leader. My opinion remains open, but I stick with my Seaguar fluoro. We discuss our fly selection for the next day, and get to sleep early.
"I got one!", I yell. The fish leaps from the water and puts on a good show. Soon, a frisky little musky with a toothy, over-sized mouth is netted. I liken it to a large-pawed puppy - minus the cuddle-factor. Pics are taken and the fish is released.
Kate briefly hooks another fish, and then, I later miss a strike. Too soon, our day-long float is over. However, I'm so hungry even I think our flies are looking good enough to eat. Don is soon out of the boat, towing us up the creek where we drop anchor for the day. Kate and I are grateful for our guide's hospitality and knowledge of the water. However, we are thrilled when he invites us to fish the next day! I believe the water-level is stabilizing and quietly think 'the bite will be on' tomorrow...
Day 3... starts with another home-made breakfast. Today, a light wind is blowing. We head down the creek and back to the Chippewa. Soon, our flies take to the air and water. We have only 1/2 day to fish, so no time is wasted. The wind keeps me on edge as, a couple of times, I hear my fly whiz past my ear, much closer to my head than I prefer. I initially avoid casting up the middle of the boat, but eventually adapt. Kate seems to have found her groove.
"Bite me!" and "Eat it!", I say, as I try to impart these feelings to the action of the fly. Today, we are all more relaxed and loose, therefore more alert and ready to set a hook. Also, 9, 10, &12 wts will paint the water and Don will allow himself a little fly fishing. It's a great day!
After a little 'strip-n-twitch' action, I retrieve my fly and say to Don, "Rub this fly and give me a little luck!" Don decides he can do a little better than that, opens his cooler and produces a cold can of Leinenkugal. Our flies are all christened with Leinie's Au jus and we get back to casting. Don ensures that the rest of a good WI beer does not go to waste.
"Fish on!!", I yell. This musky is larger than yesterday's and likes its acrobatics. It takes a little longer to fight, and the pleasure is all mine. Then, I see another boil and yell to Kate. She sheds her camera for her 9wt, but there will be no doubles this day. With the help of my friends, I boat a respectable 35" musky, pics are taken, the victory Musky Dance is completed, and the fish is released...never so annoyed as to be so popular.