Sunday, July 21, 2024

PB45 for Aunt Mary Joan

  Around 8 pm on June 14, 2024, the musky goes vertical, fully freeing itself from the water into an 80° day, yet the pink and white fly sticks like a tick in the right corner of it’s mouth. 

  Two nights beforehand, my guide and friend, MG, called and said lightning was still flashing, with more rain expected. I could hear frogs in the background. 

  I was told that it was my choice, but the conditions were still poor. Water was either going to be high and dirty (not good) or high and clear (worse). He was not optimistic- repeatedly saying it was a long way to go for one day of fishing, but he understood the itch…
 
 The morning of June 13th, the water stats had changed very little on the USGS site. Previously, my June 10th trip had been canceled due to higher water and illness in my family. I texted him. My only regret would be if I didn't go.

  MG sees the fish strike; I simply see the water erupt, but I definitely feel it hit. I give 2 hard strip sets, make myself relax and keep line tension. Musky moves right, rod goes left. Let line out but give no slack during the run, then strip the fish back in. It's suddenly, vertically, and completely out of the water. Wow- she's big! Thinking, Don't throw the hook! Keep calm. Listen to my friend - my guide, while he is also rowing the boat out of the current. Give her line on another run, strip her back, rod tip left, now hammer down on the tension!, rod tip lower to control that big head. Lift the rod tip up, head goes up (she's heavy!), and he slips the net under and then around her. She is netted and can now rest in calm water. 

  For a moment, we sit back in mutual relief and then our happiness comes rushing in. I'm a bit choked up. I said to MG that I'd hoped to catch a musky in honor of my aunt, who’d died earlier that week. She grew up when it wasn't common for women to fish and hike, and she’d wished she'd been “brave” like me. I'd been able to tell her that I loved her and didn't know anyone stronger than her. 

  When I briefly feel the heft of that glorious musky in my hands during the photos taken that will forever remind me of this day, I quickly look up to the sky, give thanks, and softly say, “In honor of you, Aunt Mary Joan!” 

  A mid-30s musky bested me earlier that day. The water was high and dirty with slim opportunity for a second chance, but we surely got it. Before releasing her, MG and I hold her in the water, confirming my new PB by taping the musky out at 45 inches!

  The musky is released. After a while, MG smokes a cigarette. We share a little tequila, reliving the excitement. We like it high and dirty here, somewhere north of Illinois. It's a fine and respectable way to have a threesome.