Lake of the Woods Fishing

If there's one body of water synonymous with musky fishing, it's Lake of the Woods. Having never caught one of these monsters before, I travel up to Kenora to test my fortune with guide Coel Forsyth. The weather during my trip is outstanding: warm, sunny for the most part, with some spectacular thunderstorms at night. The waters are calm, but I'm energized and excited, the feeling augmented quickly within the first hour of our trip when we see our first giant roaming the waters. Little do I know that the feeling will eventually wane and turn into frustration: on this day, the musky are followers, not biters.

Guess this pike had to do as a consolation prize...

I learn a decent amount about the prototypical gear used for this kind of fishing. Aside from heavy duty roughly 8 foot rods, the reels are spooled with 65 lb. braid with relatively short - 4 to 10 inch - 100 to 120 lb. fluorocarbon leaders. And the baits? Huge. Throughout the day, we use topwaters, crankbaits, smaller buck tails, and glide baits. Something has to work, something will eventually entice a strike, I keep telling myself.

Calm day...

I'm relatively new to baitcasting reels, but within half an hour, and after hundreds of casts, I feel very comfortable throwing one. It definitely helps that I'm using super heavy baits. My guide takes me to various places, including bays and island saddles, trying to figure out whether the fish are on a spring or summer pattern. After the first big pike, I see an even bigger northern following my lure up to the boat. But my figure 8 is weak: I pull the lure away from the fish's natural turn, and it swims away. Thrill instantly morphs into exasperation.

A beautiful sunset the night before

What amazes me is how shallow these giant fish sit: even in the summer, my guide tells me, they're rarely caught in water deeper than 12 feet. I cast, and cast, and cast again, ignoring the pain in my left arm. I maintain my focus, convinced that my persistence will inevitably pay off. After seeing a few lazy fish, one leviathan finally follows my lure to the boat, and this time my figure 8 technique is sharper: the musky takes a few turns following my bait. I change the cadence, speeding up, twitching, and slowing down on the turns. But no luck. It's just not my day.

When you see these beautiful fish up close, these sleek, aggressive, perfectly designed killing machines, you only become more determined to catch one. To see your dream, your wonderfully fleeting happiness, incarnate is to feel the seeds of obsession take root. But until you have one in your hands, you have to settle for the clichéd, unsatisfying moral: learn from your failures. With a predator's confidence, however, I know that one day soon, I'll be learning from success.

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