Summer Fishing Story #1

To Catch a Tiger...with a Rod and Reel

It happened on a hot day in June, late in the evening that a friend of mine and I ended up sliding my canoe into the water of an inner city lake, hoping for a chance to take on a Tiger. I had heard through conversations with others in the area that this lake had a population of the most prized trophy fish in Minnesota, Tiger Muskies. It started out as whisperings of a secret lake where big fish could be fought. Then a few pictures of some amazing fish. Followed by a slip of a lake recently fished. When putting clues together, like a true fish hunter, the thought of catching my first muskie started to shift from a dream to a possibility.

So it was decided that evening that instead of our fall-back lakes, we should go adventuring onto Cedar Lake to make a noble attempt at placing our names on the list of people who have fought and won the battle with a Tiger. We started just as normal, my fishing partner in the front of the boat, and I in the back, guiding us along waters that skirted weed edges and lily pads in hopes of finding "The Fish". And like always, a few hits that were missed started off our quest. But no sign of our query. Conversations carried from the front of the boat and the back, followed by chuckles to big Guffaws, as we casted our lines from one likely target to the next. All around us, other canoes and kayaks plied the water, nearly all of them in search of a quiet ride on the lake. On the shores, three different beaches were packed full of people trying to escape the heat of the day.

As we took a long paddle from one area to the next, a beach ball from one of the beaches ended up floating near by, begging us to return it to the beach. Of course, we were in a gracious mood and provided it with a ride back to shore, well near it anyway, since we couldn't really take the canoe to the beach.

We slowly moved up the shoreline, doing our best to entice any fish onto our line, when it was decided that one of us should just catch a fish, any fish, just one. It will always be a good day on the water if you caught at least one. So I switched to a jig and bobber to play with the bluegills that could be seen near the lily pads. And as expected I landed a few, from small to smaller. But we were now in the catagory of "not skunked".

I continued moving us along the weed edge, hoping that we would finally wrestle with a big fish, when my fishing partner all of a sudden got his line snarled in a big way around his reel. It was a disappointing occurance, although not that uncommon. So, I picked up my rod fitted for catching the big fish we target, bass and pike, and started making my casts. It wasn't three casts into my attempts, when the line on my rod started tearing away from the boat, and the drag on my reel started to sing. Since bass and northern pike also inhabited this lake, we were still uncertain of what just took my lure. So I fought this fish, using all the skills that I had honed while fishing so many lakes and streams in the past, hoping that I could once again successfully land a picture fish.

Sure enough as this fish came closer to the canoe, we saw that indeed we were fighting our first muskie, a Tiger to be exact. But just like the trophy fish he was, he didn't want to be anywhere near the canoe. So just what happens when a powerful fish makes that decision... a big thrust of the tail swirling the water, and off he goes taking more line and disappearing into the depths of the lake. I took my time playing this fish and waiting for him to become a little more tired before trying to get him back toward the boat. As is customary, this fish let me bring him back to the canoe a little at a time. When he was near again, he decided that the lunging tactic hadn't worked, so he tried going under and around the canoe in quick darting motions, hoping that I wouldn't be able to keep up with his movements. But I was adept at keeping up with his many attempts by moving my rod into the proper position for each manuver, turning in my seat when necessary. Then all of a sudden, another lunge from the muskie and more line stripped from my reel as he headed back into the depths of the lake.

This fish was obviously a worthy opponent, and I was doing my best to play my part in this bout. He came to the boat another time, and again took off, this time with less gusto then the last two. Both my fishing partner and I knew that the next time he came near, this fish would be on the edge of being finished. With net in had, my buddy waited for the proper time to position the only device we had to help us land our trophy. Sure enough a tired out tiger came close, the net was positioned just so, and the fish ended up being haulled into our canoe. With many whoops of joy, and incredulous barks of laughter, we quickly untangled the fish from the net to be photographed and put back into the lake. As a quick after thought just before the fish could make the water, I layed it up against my paddle for me to measure when I returned home. With the fish placed in the water, it started to revive. Then just as suddenly as it hit the lure, it disappeared under the canoe and into the depths of the lake once more. As it turned out this fish became my first of hopefully many, and the largest of any to date at 37 inches.







The best part is that this isn't the end of the story. Before the heat, humidity and sore backsides could chase us from the lake, another amazing fish took to rod and reel. My fishing partner's rod sang out in protest as he fought a fish that had to be a lunker. Then as suddenly as a firecracker, the surface of the lake exploded in water spray as a gigantic largemouth bass broke the surface. Sure enough, this fish was landed, and as for this summer anyways it is the largest largemouth bass to be brought into and photographed in my canoe.