Something Unforgettable on the Musky Trail Lurked, Waiting for Us ~ The WI-MN Diaries (Part 7, Sept. 12-13, 2013)

   The first thing I heard was “Davis!!”  In Wisconsin, place of musky and monikers, I knew something was up.  BB usually calls me ‘Twitch’, an apt title for a jumpy gal.  My first image was of his tall, lean figure & in his hands a flexing fly rod -bent toward the midsection by something unseen at the end of a taut line.  

   

  
    He yelled, “I’ve got one and it’s a big one!”  On cue, the musky jumped from the water and both man and esox were framed by a backdrop of frothy, Chippewa River current.  He played that big gal, drawing her toward calmer water near the bank, but then she made a final run & I watched the angler take off after her, running along a skinny, steeply-pitched path of riverbank.  In a calm bed of water, slightly short of breath, the man hunkered over the musky & asked if I was ready.  I was.  He hoisted up that fish, saying it was the biggest musky (including girth) he’d ever caught.  

   I took two pictures of my friend and his toothy victory.  Squirming free of his hands, the musky hit the water & BB’s de-barbed fly, the single-hooked, articulated ‘Bohen 747’, landed 2 feet away.  His girl was gone.  BB was trembling.

   

   Overlooking the river, we shared a rock and a couple of celebratory Leinie’s in their throwback 1940’s gold cans.  He shared his happiness –no, euphoria- with me.  He relived the fight, talking about the jumps of the black-backed musky & how she jetted the sinking line from the water.  He estimated her length at 50 inches & told me she’d felt like 40 pounds in his hands.  He asked if I remembered what he’d said when we first approached that section of the river:  “Be ready, right here one of us could land the biggest musky you will ever see…”   

 I’ve known Hayward, Wisconsin’s Brad Bohen, AKA ‘BB’ or the ‘Afton Angler’, since Chicago’s Great Waters Fly Fishing Expo in 2009.  On the final day I laid down cash for what became my favorite overall rod, my first 10wt.  I also met a lot of anglers, many who remain acquaintances and some who became friends.  Brad Bohen, head guide of the then virgin Musky Country Outfitters, was the first person to speak at length with me.  He also coached me on the casting floor.  On Columbus Day of that year, I hired him.  After a brutally quiet-water day, nearest to dark when colors shifted to shades of grey, I very happily held my first esox in my hands.  Brad took pictures & I beamed.  It was a pike not a musky, but on a day when one fished from morning until dark & sensed that all species of fish had ceased to exist, the flush of victory was felt.  Brad had said if I landed a fish I could keep the fly.  BB’s Angry Minnow was mine!

    

   We’ve hit the water a couple more times as guide/client and have plied the waters with other musky friends as well.  However, I’ve spent more time watching the world record holder of the 51.25” musky on a fly manning the oars for others than casting a fly rod.  So, I was very happy with BB’s recent invitation to his Musky Lab and a couple days of Northwoods-style fly fishing. 

   

   On September 12, 2013, he treated Dynamite Dan, his lifelong friend, and me to a beautiful 15 mile Flambeau River float.  We had a musky follow and 3 smallies to our credit on an otherwise quiet, first day of a cold front.  Scouting the water, Brad primarily stuck with the oars. 

   

   Brad (BB) works hard to feed the angler’s hunger for musky.  But lately I not only wanted to continue to hit the musky trail with Brad the guide, I wanted water-time with BB the friend.  And on September 13, it happened.  Guide/client or teacher/student roles were largely dropped and we shared one of life’s simple pleasures… we just went fishing.

  

   Now, if that sounds all folksy and sweet, I can set you straight.  For some reason, fishing and hunting are frequently described as separate things.  I can set you straight on that as well.  On September 13, Brad didn’t man the oars.  BB went hunting.  With a fly rod.  For Musky.

   It was great to go fishing, dropping any roles except the one called ‘friends’.  We both hooked and landed musky.  But in the end, there was more.  I was there when this friend (remember, he is already a musky record-holder), landed his fish of a lifetime, what he labeled his ‘Hemingway’.  I watched how he fought that fish, focused and reeling in much of his excitement until she was his.  Then, there were the pictures.  Proof.  Finally, there was his unabashed happiness, shared with me on a beautiful day while sitting together on a rock overlooking Musky Country; the celebration following a successful hunt. 

   

   He told me was retiring his fly.  It was going to be a one fish fly.  And later he handed me that fly, his Bohen 747.  He’d given me the Angry Minnow after I landed my first esox and then, for reasons unspoken, the Bohen 747 became mine after he landed his Hemingway. 

   

   He landed his fish of a lifetime but we both had a blue-ribbon day.  I think the quality of an angler’s life might best be judged by the fishing friends that one keeps and what, as friends, we experience together.

   
   Life is very good.   

(For Brad's 1st-person account of the exciting hook-up with his toothy, black-backed opponent, click on the link:  http://www.drakemag.com/message-boards/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=8817&start=2010 )

   

Stalking the Predator: November Musky on the Fly

   My angling pal, musky guide Brad Bohen, told me he had been in need of turkey feathers for fly tying material.  Do people who fly fish for musky always prefer a difficult path?  He told me he smacked a flock of turkeys the other day.  One big turkey dented the front end of his Land Cruiser.  His rod holder rack, loaded with rods, was knocked off the suv, but my pal got his tying material.  A few days later, he smacked a buck.  I guess he needed buck tail as well.  When I got in his vehicle I put on the seatbelt, secretly happy he doesn’t tie his flies with elk fur.

   On Friday, November 2, we were the only humans on the West Fork of Wisconsin's Chippewa River & the solitude was appreciated.  I spotted a large buck and, later, Brad spotted otters poking their heads through holes in thin ice hugging the shore.  The bearded, cigar-smoking musky hunter, known to proudly display his esox-bloodied fingers, grinned while he made ‘schnuffling’ sounds – otter calls.  I smiled & relished one of the main reasons I enjoy being around my fishy male friends.

   It was more than chilly that morning on the water, but by the time my cold fingers had warmed and the wet gloves were stripped away, the musky and me had thawed enough to do battle.

   We had 4-5 musky strikes and the first 2 were boated.  We also had a follow.  The third strike pissed me off.  The fish should’ve been boated, but was missed due to my quasi salmon-trout set.  I knew it’d be a let-down if the musky attacks ended on that note.  But later, during a possible strike, a splash occurred behind my fly.  On a firm strip set… the fly snagged a branch.  False redemption.  The last attacker of the day was a mini-musky – a super-sized Polish sausage with a big appetite and a bad aim.  It lunged over my fly during its single strike.  

   My first missed strike, or that ‘son of a bit%$’, as I called it (since those words seem to come out of my mouth at no other time except when I lose a fish), taught me a lesson.  I lost that fish simply due to my poor position in the boat.  Earlier in the day, I’d come up short with casts due to line catching under my boots. So, I stripped line and kept my feet planted while twisting my body to keep the rod tip pointed at the fly.  It’s hard to do a strip set when your elbow is jammed in your ribs, so the quasi salmon-trout set occurred & the musky was lost.  Lesson learned.

   Of course the successful musky hook-ups were exciting things!  We were fishing along a ‘belly’ of the West Fork.  Both fish attacked within 10’ of the boat.  On the first fish’s strike, my set did not take and I plunged the rod tip in the water and began the figure 8.  The fish immediately struck again and my strip-set was hard.  After a brief fight, we boated a thick-bodied musky.  Brad and I celebrated our first musky success together, passed a flask, & then took pictures.  While that first fish had been out of Brad’s line of sight, the 2^nd musky attack was visible to both guide and client.  It was classic!  Almost casually, strip, pause… strip, pause… in the water.  The next moment the Beauford fly was slammed by a finned torpedo with teeth!  Strip-set!!  Yelling erupted from guide and client, and the more active fish fought hard against the long rod.  It took Brad a couple tries to lift the fighter from the water.  With the musky in the boat, I breathed more deeply.  We had not wanted to lose that fight.  Bite marks on our fish’s back from another musky were examined.  Brad took more pictures, and I released the toothy torpedo.

   We excitedly re-lived our musky moments, then I reported that all we needed was a good follow to obtain the trifecta of musky takes.

   I don’t think more than 5 minutes passed and this occurred.  

   I was stripping in line & my fly was at least 20’ out when & I silently questioned, “Is that a follow?”  I kept quiet, doubtful, yet trying to shift fully into ‘predator-mode’.  Moments later, my doubt turned into a statement:  “I’ve got a follow!”  Actually, I think Brad and I announced it simultaneously, but a couple seconds were a blur.  I do remember him adding, “And it’s a nice fish”, with a controlled excitement in his voice.

   It was a chunky musky over 40” long and landing it would’ve met one of my goals for the year.  What replays in my head now, is what followed the follow.  I hesitated on the strip just prior to starting the figure 8.  Somehow that tiny pause was different enough from the rhythmic ‘strip-pause’ which had kept the creature’s interest for at least 20 feet.  I’d been presented with one slim opportunity to hook a larger musky.  During the brief moment that my thought had over-ruled my instinct, the finned predator had won the game.

   The day had been great in so many ways.  For most fly anglers, good fishing and good company can’t be beat.  Yet, briefly, I was frustrated.  For the second year, I hadn’t met my musky goals. 

   Then, I remembered something.  I love this fly fishing journey.  I love the people and the waterways, and I love the angling challenges and adventures.  Making and reaching a goal is great.  But I think it’s the journey that gives an accomplishment its ultimate pleasure and value.  I’m loving the trip & there’s no need to rush. 

Water-Tested & Musky-Approved

                                 

                         BB's FORAGE                                  

   BB’s Forage is a Musky Fly created almost 3 years after I first fished for musky.  Prior to this (hopefully) toothy delight, all of my musky ties were originated by others or heavily influenced by another’s creation.  While I can’t say that this pattern is bereft of other tiers' influences, it is not based on anyone else’s recipe.  It’s about time!

  I've written an article to supplement the recipe.  It details what I'd hoped to accomplish (for ex: to create a faster-sinking fly), why particular materials were chosen, why they were tied-in in a particular manner, the fly's castability, & how the fly presents in the water.   If there is an interest, I can post the article or answer any questions.  Just use the comment section or drop me an email.

  I've test-casted the flies and was (surprisingly) exceedingly pleased with the results.  They have yet to swim in musky water, but I consider them water-tested and musky-approved!  See my Fly Tying page for the recipe.  Thanks, ~Twitch (posted 9/21/12)

A Musky Guide, Time, and A Fly ~ The WI-MN Diaries (Part 6, Sept 2, 2012)

    In Wisconsin’s Northwoods, Columbus Day, 2009, we were smack in the middle of a cold front.  What it meant on that day was that what was left of color on the trees was being lightly coated in soft, white flakes.  It was a beautiful, overly-quiet day on the water.  What it also meant was that there were absolutely no signs of fish.  What this meant was that for a guide who was trying to put a gal onto her first fish of 10,000 casts, his work was really cut out!  If a musky rewarded an angler based on the guide’s efforts, I’d say we would’ve at least boated a 45”-er.  However, during my final casts in the darkening light, after we abandoned the drift boat to wade and use the smaller ‘Angry Minnow’ pattern, I landed my first Esox!  It was a pike.  It fought valiantly for a couple of seconds.  Then it spotted me & thought, “Screw it! That gal deserves a fish.”, and gave up.  I was happy.  I’d landed my first toothy critter & that earned me the right to keep the fly.  We celebrated at the ‘Angry Minnow’ pub in Hayward, WI, with food, brew, & a couple shots of tequila.

   I don’t remember if it was that day or in a thank-you email, but I’d promised Brad Bohen of Hayward’s Musky Country Outfitters, that I would tie him a musky fly.   I doubt he remembers that but I keep my promises.  The first flies I’d learned to tie were from Brad’s Hang Time recipe.  Other patterns I’d tied were based on others’ recipes.  Most of my musky to date have been landed with a cool color combination of Brad’s Hang Time, but why send a guy a fly of a pattern he’d created?

   So, with Oct 2009 simply a pleasant memory, in Sept 2012 I tied my first original musky fly.  I also hired Brad again.  The recent musky bite had been slow, but he put me on great water.  I had a couple of strikes & a couple of follows!  He instructed & managed the boat exceedingly well.  In short, he did a great job while I casted fairly well, but didn’t ‘fish’ as well.  There is a difference.  I learned a lot to improve my skill and that, honestly, was my main goal.  And, while I did take my first prototype of that musky fly along, I didn’t fish it.  At that time it was nameless & I was skeptical of its potential.

   So what did the man teach me?  Well, I learned when someone tells you to do something during the figure 8 on a musky follow --that everyone else tells you not to do for trout and bass fishing-- certain phrases, such as ‘strip in to the leader!’, become ‘strip in to the kajhyr!’ during the disconnect.   So, the musky simply swims away.  The guide, on the other hand, is reaching for your rod, firmly telling you he’s got something to show you.  It was not his palm and I did not end up wet.  So, I am now a pro at the figure 8.  And if the musky should swim away,  I agreed not to cast fly after the musky but to keep stirring the fly.  Brad also counseled me about how a good partnership between rod and line make less work for the angler.  My rod was underlined & I’d developed some bad habits which I am correcting.  I learned how a buoyant fly and a sinking line can work well to increase the action of the fly.  I learned that Brad has nice legs.  I learned more about musky haunts and when to set the hook (the musky were soft-striking that day).

   I also learned it’s much more uncomfortable to car-camp the night after a guide has learned you cast better with the left arm & he is also excellent at positioning the boat.  I learned the guide does not care if you cast 3 times in 8.5 hours with your weaker arm on less productive water, but he will order you to use your stronger left arm on that 4^th cast because you have just entered productive water.  A good guide will do that.  That night when you finally drop to sleep, nestled on a pillow & laid out ‘just so’ over your front and rear suv seats, some unhelpfully helpful person knocks on your window to see if you are alright, and your sore left arm makes a punch toward the glass… it reinforces the importance of the guide's 2 false-cast per cast rule when you're fishing in the Musky Capital of the World.

   I’ve also fished with Brad & others a few times over the years, not as a client, but as a friend.  One does not grill their friends about their musky ways.  It is not polite.  And, for quite a while, I’ve had a ‘feeling’ that I would boat a large musky when Brad was also in the boat.  I’m happy to say that I have a rare opportunity to hit the water again (in November) as Brad’s client.  A grilling may be in order!  Or maybe it is just time to put into action what I’ve learned in September & days past; fly fishing for musky in water so unlike my home water.  Maybe it is time to grow from being the student on the fly to also being the fisher on the fly.  I do hope my ‘feeling’ becomes a reality & we boat a big, toothy musky.  But whether Brad is there physically or not on the day I hook into that large Esox, I suspect his presence will still be felt.

   Oh, and one more thing:  For a couple of years, I’d decided my first original musky fly would be called, ‘Forage’.  However, I’m going with BB’s Forage.  I’m year's late sending him the promised fly, I landed my first Esox with him, and he’s shared his musky addiction very well with me.  Heck, I think the guy deserves a fly named in his honor.  On November 2nd, maybe I’ll learn if my fly lives up to his musky-on-the-fly record-holding reputation!       

Hayward - Musky-bound!!!

   Finally heading back to Hayward this weekend!  Back in June I fished the Namekagon for trout and then headed to Chequamegon Bay to meet up with a friend for smallie fishing and sand camping. Timing for musky just wasn't in the cards on my birthday weekend.

   But now..... oh baby..... it's time for Musky!!
   Hitting the water with Musky Country Outfitter's head guide & friend Brad Bohen.  The water to be fished, as yet, is a mystery but I have faith Brad will get us the best opps for tail-walking toothiness!
   I tied up a new Musky fly.  It's current name is: Prototype... as that is exactly what I think it will turn out to be when it hits the water!  However, you put a little passion, a decent amount of thought, and a late night into something and it just needs to find some Esox water to truly discover its swimming potential.
   I have two months of work-free weekends.... just so I can drop most anything for a chance to hit the Musky trail.  Bring on that fall feedbag!!!!!!!  Let's hit the Musky Trail. Yeah baby!!!!

The WI-MN Diaries  - Part 1, Sept. 25-27, 2010

   Kate and I load up the CRV as quickly as we can.  I'd just finished a long day at work and we knew there was a long night in front of us.  We head out from Moline, IL., by 6:30 pm.  We are Hayward-bound.  We hope we are musky-bound, too.      

Day 1:  For the love of fly fishing and the Northwoods, Kate and I reluctantly get up early after the previous night's 7 hour drive to Hayward.  A breakfast stop at the Spider Lake Cafe nets me the pleasure of visiting with MCO musky guide Brad Bohen and introducing him to Jackfish Kate.  Brad tells us the guides and a film crew are taking it to the water today.  We discuss how the current high water-levels may affect all of our fishing.  After breakfast, Bob, owner of the Spider Lake Motel, kindly provides Kate and me with a map marked with areas to fish.  Today, we hope to explore as much water as possible.  The 'real' fishing begins tomorrow.

   Next, we head off to the urban, clear-water, sand-bottomed Round Lake.  It's purported to have musky and trophy-size smallies.  We split up and wade waist and chest-high, casting in the clear water.  No fish today.  Walking back along the shore, I scan for unusual rocks, but end up with a rubber salamander(it now rides on the dash of my CRV).  I also leave with a wet leg.  My waders have sprung a leak.  Oh well, whaddya do?  We get back in the suv and keep exploring. 

   We are boat-less and the water is far from optimal.  Yet, if it's possible to shore-fish, we wet a line.  As with anything in life:  If you don't try, it definitely won't happen.  At the swollen Teal River Boat Access, I cast solo while Kate briefly checks out the water upstream.  We again run into Brad and the boys, checking out the water conditions.  They are shocked (& I'm amused) when I tell them I've landed 3 musky here.  Of course, I quickly admit the truth!  I feel a bit foolish being 'caught' shore-fishing this water, but I tend to walk my own crazy path.

   Lastly, Jackfish and I shore-fish along the Chippewa and then head for Don's cabin.  Good company and home-made pizza await us.  Along a 1/4 mile stretch of road, we spot turkey, a large black bear, and elk.  Kate, who regularly fishes in Canada, says it's the largest black bear she's ever seen.  Nice way to finish the day!
   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.

Day2:  Don treats us to coffee and home-made blueberry pancakes, and we then head out for our full-day float on the Chippewa.  A mist rises from the water on this beautiful morning and by 9:30 we're in the drift boat.  Within 5 minutes, Kate has a fish on!  I have the camera, Don has the net, but (dang!) the musky unhooks itself at the boat.  Kate is using one of Don's flies.  It has good action and rides 'hook up', proving itself to be weed-free.  I enjoy casting my flies to the weeds' edges, but must frequently remove weeds from the hook, greatly reducing my opps of engaging a musky in battle.  I will be tying some flies differently in the future.

   It's a beautiful day on the Chippewa.  Trees paint the shoreline in green, red and yellow.  A few trees appear dead, but Don tells us these are 'Black Locusts', the last trees to dress and the first to undress.  We have a quick lunch on the boat and get back to fishing.

   While Kate has fly fished longer than I, this is her first time fishing for musky and the first she has been in a drift boat.  She taught herself to double-haul the week prior to this trip (impressive!) and today she is learning where and when to cast when 2 anglers are fishing in a smaller boat.  I occasionally duck, hold my cast, or smile; remembering when I learned these same lessons last year.  In February, when I was confined to crutches and a cast, Kate was one of a few friends who helped me continue to fly fish.  I'm very happy she's come on this trip.

  "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.

   And that is how our day continues to progress.  We sauce the flies another time, Kate has a fish on, and I boat 2 more leaping, tail-wagging Esox under 34 inches.  The fish seem to like my fly, a modified 'Hang Time' pattern, so I never switch it.  However, after the first fish, Don politely suggests I check my bite guard.  Frayed!  Lesson learned.  Always check the leader after any strike.

   Near the end of our short day, Don gives the oars to me and he unleashes his 12wt.  In the meantime, he also suggests that Kate try my fly.  She picks up my 10wt & begins to cast.

   Soon, STRIKE!  Jackfish is visibly excited but remains cool. I, on the other hand, want her to land her first musky so badly, I'm barking out, "Set the hook hard! Keep the line tight! Let out some line!"  Jeesh, a slap may have been in order but her hands were full.  She lands it!!  Don nets it and we take pictures of Jackfish Kate proudly posing with her first musky.  That, readers, is an ideal ending to a Northwoods Fly Fishing Trip.

(Thanks Pondmonster!) ~Twitch.