Doesn't sound very productive, does it? Many have written about musky being the fish of 10,000 casts, including me. But even if it was only 10,000 casts, tossing lures that weigh as much as my cat all day long will make that 9,999th cast an act of torture. My signature on a local musky forum now reads, "You know what's amazing about musky fishing? You cast your butt off all day long, to the point of physical exhaustion, and, in a matter of seconds, one measly bite either makes your day or sends you home skunked."
Ain't it the truth?
I fished hard the other day and my shoulders simply ache...still. Where is my bottle of Advil? Is it worth it, such pain, for one fish or maybe two if you're lucky? Most anglers would not think so, but there are some hard core musky anglers out there that will tell you that it most certainly is.
And I agree.
I wound up nearly pushing the limits on my rotator cuff tossing huge lures all day for what? My personal best musky, 39.5 inches long, that's what! Was it worth it? Heck yeah! |
Gliders are somewhat like subsurface Zara Spooks, that, with twitches of the rod tip, alternating with half reel cranks, creating a series of pulls on the lure combined with alternate periods of slack line that basically send the lure into a zig-zag retrieve. If the lure is as big as my cat, you can imagine that even that takes a toll on your musculature, much less casting the daggone things.
Gliders, like these made by Tony Ashby, are great for triggering aggressive musky strikes. Be ready at all times for that one bite. |
Here's the deal though; you may cast for hours on end, maybe days, without a single a follow or swirl. But, you're fishing for that one fish, that one bite, and you'd better make it count when it happens. You need to be ready at all times. Then again, one fish isn't enough, because after I've released a caught fish, I'm stoked to catch another one. Multiple musky days are awesome!
Ed Lewandoski shared an experience he had, "The trip in January 2010 that Ken and I made to the New River. We drove five hours the night prior to fishing, and an equal distance to look forward to afterwards. We only saw one fish, where Ken was able to hook, fight and boat his personal best at 45 inches and change. It would have been a whole 'nuther ride if it wasn't for that fish!"
It pretty much sums it up. You can't fall asleep and go through the motions. You need to follow up on each cast, alert and in tune with what your lure is doing. Finish the cast with a figure eight, or a wide sweeping "L", some sort of direction change to provoke a strike from a chasing musky. Don't be lazy on anything.
As Ed notes on the topic, "Are you ready for that big fish on every cast? Some folks just get tired and aren't ready on every cast and retrieve. I guess it's a game of odds. The higher the number of casts and retrieves you are totally set on will improve your odds. If one random BIG fish is going to test you over ten trips, which retrieve will it be on? Will it be there on the first twenty casts where you are so into it that nothing distracts you? Or will it be in that eighth hour, after you have had zero action all day? Or, will a fish show on the one retrieve where your body is out of position to set the hook properly? Or, will she show when your rod is pointed in the wrong direction so if you do set the hook, you won't get much power out of it?"
Not long after I wrote the first blog post on this site, I found a "hot fish". This fish that boiled on one of my lures on one cast, striking but missing. Then, a few casts later, he rolled on it twice. Then, another cast later, he rolled on it again, missing, only to nail my lure a couple twitches later. Having a "hot fish" keeps you on your toes. Your adrenaline is high, and you're alert, ready for that strike.
But there are times that border on boring, as if you're simply beating the water with your log sized lures over the Dead Sea. Those are the times that you need to be alert, so be ready to set that hook at any moment, properly. the fish could strike at any time, on any given cast. You need to be ready, to perform a figure eight to draw a strike possibly on each and every cast, and once you hook up, to fight the fish carefully and land it cleanly. That feeding window could open at any time.
It's hard work, casting the big stuff all day long. You don't want all of your efforts to go for not, do you? Now really, I'm only a rookie at this musky thing, so I have yet to experience the dejected feeling that you'd get when missing your only chance on the day, but I'm sure that I will. After all, I'm human. I can tell you, because of my own drive to fend off the skunk monster, the very one that I detest more than anything while fishing, that I can imagine how I'd feel if that happened to me. I'll try and learn from other people's lessons rather than learn the hard way.
You may only get one chance. And when you do, and it pays off, it's well worth it. And it could turn your trip from one to forget to one that you'll never forget.
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