Chapter 2b

One mid-summer, scorching hot, muggy day with the humidity reaching the typical Minnesota 90% standard, Jeff and I headed down to the lake to hunt pike. We loaded our gear and pushed the canoe from shore and jumped in. Jeff was almost always the captain steering the canoe as we trolled along the weed beds. We always used steel leaders with snap swivels when going after pike so I clipped on a huge red and white Dare Devil and heaved it out into the lake letting it swing behind the canoe as we trolled along
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Within minutes a sharp pull nearly took my rod from my hands and I struck back. “This is huge!” I exclaimed and I reared back and began fighting what I thought was a monster. “Cut the motor!” My drag was set low and the beast kept ripping line off as quickly as I could gain on him. I spent a good five minutes reeling in 10 feet of line and zing; 10 feet would get stripped off. With the canoe stopped I finally got it close enough to get a good look.

Jeff laughed as the half pound hammer handle rose from the depths with ten pounds of weeds. “Jeez Russ! Tighten your damn drag,” he said as he pulled the weeds off my line and unhooked the little guy letting it go. “Let me know if you get a real fish on.”

Jeff started up the motor and we continued our line around the lake. I tightened my drag and launched the spoon back into the water.

Within seconds my rod doubled over and again I reared back setting the hook. Afraid to make another wrong prediction on size, I kept my mouth shut and fought the fish with the boat still tooling along.

Jeff saw me struggling and cut the motor without me asking. “Looks pretty good,” he said.
With a humbled, “Feels alright,” I responded trying not to appear too excited for fear I might be duped again.

I horsed the pike closer to the boat and as I did, he came up to the surface. With him only about thirty feet from the canoe, his tail broke the surface and swirled.
“Holy shit,” Jeff yelled! “It’s fucking huge!”

At that very second the pike dove straight to the bottom and my hands shook. “Oh my god,” was all I could say. I had never had a fish like that on in my life let alone caught one. It was a good 3 or 4 minutes before we saw it again.

I slowly lifted my rod tip up trying to bring the pike up from about 12 feet of water. It was actually towing us out into deeper water trying to escape. Jeff was keeping relatively calm as he shouted out instructions. “Keep the rod tip up. Easy. Easy. Lift him up Russ. That’s it. Just take your time.”

I could hear the excitement and nervousness in his voice. He had never caught anything like that either.

Finally the pike slowly rose from the bottom directly under the canoe. The canoe was at least 35 inches wide and as the fish came into view we could see the tail on one side and the head on the other. It had at least one more dare devil hanging from its mouth alongside mine and had to be 45 inches long. It looked mean and nasty and definitely pissed off.

Time stood still for a few moments as Jeff and I stared at the monster. We had never seen anything like it in person. Sure, we had seen fish like this on TV or mounted on some tackle shop wall but never in person. Every week there were pictures sent into to the Daily Dispatch of locals catching big fish and this one was definitely going to take the cake. I would be famous!

“Keep the rod tip up!”

That was the last thing I heard as the monster took one last run to the bottom. Having my drag tighten all the way I couldn’t stop it. My arms gave and the rod tip went straight down following the fish. The canoe started tipping and just before it rolled completed over the line snapped and the canoe rocked back and settled upright.

We both stared into the water in disbelief recounting the last few minutes, wondering if what we saw was real. My eyes swelled up and a tear trickled down my cheek as I realized I would never see that fish again. Jeff looked back at me and I quickly wiped the tear away as we estimated the pike pushing 30 pounds.