As a result, these unintentional hookups unfailingly found my tackle sadly wanting for the job at hand. The rods were too limber, the line far too light, and the indispensable wire leader often completely absent. While I have managed to boat a handful of small muskie (24 to 28 inches), the few bragging-sized muskie I have latched on to either broke my line or disdainfully spit the lure with a casual shake of their massive heads.

When my wife informed me that the annual family vacation would take us to Minnesota’s famous Lake Vermillion, I determined to add a keeper muskie to my list of fishing accomplishments, and so signed on with a noted muskie guide for two full days. The other determining factor was the presence of four overly active grandchildren, and three equally exuberant Labrador retrievers.

My guide, Musky Tom Wehler (muskytomsguideservice.com), specializes in exactly what his name implies, so I wanted to come armed with appropriate tackle for the project. Since the muskie has become a status symbol for the younger (than me) generation, fishing for them has been elevated to a much higher and more complicated plane. There is so much muskie stuff out there now a tyro would have a hard time just choosing a basic rod/reel/line combination, so I put myself in the hands of Cabela’s pro staff, and asked for help. Please!

My prayer was answered when a package arrived bringing an Ambassador 6600CS reel, and Cabela’s seven-foot, XML Series model XCLC704-2 rod, medium heavy action. The rod was rated for 10- to 20-pound line, and would handle baits from 3/8 to 2-1/4 ounces. After loading the reel with 40-pound PowerPro line, I was ready for action.

I purchased no muskie lures, preferring to rely on my guide to furnish the best baits for the conditions we would encounter. (Tom informed me that Joe Bucher bucktails are as good as any, and priced right. He also favors Mepp’s and Billy Finn lures.)

Musky Tom arrived in his 18-foot Lund at the resort dock at 8:00 a.m. on the appointed day in early August. The plan was to fish until noon, rest until 5:00 p.m., and then hit the water again until 9:00 p.m. In this way, we put in a full day during the peak fishing hours, and still came off the lake in good shape. His goal was to have an enjoyable day of fishing, and hope the muskie were biting.

Musky Tom has been guiding on Vermillion for 21 years, and concentrating on big pike and muskie exclusively for the past seven. He insists on catch, photograph, and release, and seems to know the whereabouts of most trophy fish in the 40-mile-long lake.

Tom feels the period from mid-July through mid-September is the prime time to catch muskie, because they relate almost exclusively to large weed beds, or rocky flats adjacent to deep water. Before and after this period, the fish are widely scattered. Tom employs "run ‘n’ gun" tactics when fishing the rocky flats, but will spend more time thoroughly working the large weed beds in eight to 10 feet of water.

At this time of year, Wehler prefers either noisy top water baits or large bucktail spinners. While his lure box contains dozens of different bucktails and body baits, I used only two bucktails during my four half day trips. I should point out that Musky Tom is a true guide; he does not compete with his clients for fish. (Bass guides take note.)

Tom’s choice of lure color was amazingly simple. When sunny he fixed me up with a black bucktail, (fish can see black better from below the lure), with a silver spinner blade for maximum reflection. When it clouded over, I switched to a black bucktail with a chartreuse blade for more visibility under low light conditions. I caught muskie on both.

While I didn’t think even a muskie could chop through tough PowerPro line, Tom urged me to put on a heavy steel leader, just in case. I did.

Our first morning out, while casting over thick weeds in a large bay that opened onto the main lake, a 36-inch muskie nailed a silver/black bucktail, and jumped about three feet straight up. It was not a monster, but I was not a bit disappointed when it came to the net. With the hook out, we quickly snapped a photo, (I needed no prompting to smile), then spent a few minutes helping the battler revive before it swam slowly back into the cabbage patch below us. Later we raised a larger fish, but no strike ensued.

Towards evening, clouds arrived, and while tossing a chartreuse/black bucktail across a rocky flat, a large fish slammed the bait. We didn’t see the critter until it surfaced near the boat, where it did everything possible to avoid the waiting landing net. Nice try, but no cigar for you, Mr. Musky, and the mesh eventually folded around it. The fish measured 42 inches, a "keeper," and it made my whole trip.

The big hooks were embedded in the back of the muskie’s tongue, causing a trickle of blood, but no gill damage. After snapping a hurried photo, Tom put it back into the big net and lowered it into the lake, enabling him to control the fish by holding it upright, and slowly moving it to force water over its gills. Tom worked with that fish until it had stabilized and was breathing without aid. Released from the net, the fish remained quietly on the surface for nearly two minutes before recovering and slowly swimming out of sight. Great!

My final day with Musky Tom was anti-climatic after the great action of the first day. We had a follow to boatside from a fish in the 48-inch range in the morning, and the afternoon’s effort produced only a good time, reminding me that muskie fishing was not as easy as it had appeared.

This experience taught me that you fish for muskie just the same as for any other fish; fish where the fish are, and stay on the meat until they start to bite. It isn’t complicated, it will work anywhere, and you don’t need a boat full of expensive gear to be successful. Just do it.

It isn't brain surgery, this mid-summer muskie fishing. I proved that by hauling in this beauty, and the great thing about it is, you can do it without the need of a snowmobile suit. Jerry Pabst photo.

Kicker
Towards evening, clouds arrived, and while tossing a chartreuse/black bucktail across a rocky flat, a large fish slammed the bait.