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Fishing Journal

We left Lafayette 2 hours ahead of schedule. We were all excited about getting back to Strawberry lake for what could be the last time. It was the day of Aric's graduation from Purdue Vet School so everybody was at Aric's house doing some celebrating. I was elected as designated driver so I stayed out of the beer. I had been up since 5 that morning. I got my stuff all packed and organized. Scott was supposed to pick me up at 10:30am [12:30 Eastern Norton Time] The open house was nice, I saw some folks that I hadn't seen in quite a while. I also had the chance to finally meet Aric's Uncle Ron, the owner of our Strawberry camp. We weren't expecting to hit the road until after 8 but by 4 that afternoon, the crowd was almost gone. We loaded up all of our gear into Aric's Dodge Pickup and just after 6pm, I was driving us up to Michigan. It is about a 5 hour haul from Lafayette. It seemed longer that day. By the time we reached Grand Rapids, I was getting tired but I knew we were close. We pulled into camp around 11:30, got our stuff out of the truck and got on the boat. We didn't go too far. We got into someRock Bass and someLargemouth Bass. It began to sprinkle and while we were heading in to gather our rain gear, we decided to quit for the night. Monday was extrordinary! We usually do well on Strawberry but two things were happening this time. 1. The whole lake was gearing up to spawn and 2. There was a pre-frontal feeding frenzy taking place. We boated over 50 fish on Monday. It still wasn't the warmest up there so the fish were still hugging the bottom. Fortunately, we are well versed in the Texas Rig. Coupled with Berkley's 7" Pumpkinseed Power worm, the fish couldn't resist. All the fish we caught were plump and heavy with 90% of the Largemouth Bass measuring in around 15 inches. The water was quite clear and we saw so many fish all over that lake. They were up in the shallows and cruising the flats. They hovered the slopes and hugged the timber. Every trip we take brings along a few "catch phrases" In October we were doing Sean Connery impressions saying "Take off your panties". This time Scott got us stuck on the Bob & Tom parody of Beatles Anthology 43. We spent the whole week speaking Ringo. "Where's John? I don't know. What time is it? 9:15. Wanna smoke? Sure." I have no idea how a we got started calling a fish and cheese sandwich "fish & chee" When we pulled up to the pier that afternoon, Brooks was waiting for us. This was our introduction to the political factions of the lake. The People's Front of Strawberry [represented by Brooks] are largely city folk who assume that because they can't catch fish, that there are no fish. Brooks told us that he hadn't caught a bass out of that lake in two years. I was floored, I think that Strawberry is the most productive waters I have ever seen and that day alone we caught more fish than we could have eaten in a week. He was saying that the association was considering closing Strawberry to all fishing for two years to let the fish population grow some. The other faction The Strawberry People's Front [represented by Stubbs] threw this idea out as totally ridiculous. The Strawberry People's Front are largely people who know how to fish and do. So you see the dynamic is as follows. The People's Front of Strawberry cannot catch fish [due to a skill level element] and blame the Strawberry People's Front for "Taking all the fish". Of course Brooks doesn't even have his boat in the water yet. Anyway the factions compromised with a ban on taking fish from their spawning beds during May and June. That didn't affect us because we aren't the type to fish the beds to begin with and secondly there weren't any beds at the time. It was still too early. Anyway this incident made us Strawberry People's Front Sympethisers. Monday evening the Thunderstorms came in and dumped almost 6 inches of rain. We had left an empty cooler out open on the deck. In the morning I was amazed at how deep the water was in it. The storms rolled in one after another all day and all night. We did most of the fishing from shore that day and managed to land severalBass from the pier. Scott was relentless, he would cast and cast and not stop until every rod he had was hung up on the logs that populate the deep just off shore. It was a new tradition. Every trip out in the boat began with freeing Scott's lines. We tuned into the local news to see if the weather would break. One of the stories was about several men who were camping when one said "Hey watch this." then tried to swallow a 5 inch fish live. The fish flared its sharp fins and tore up the guys throat and lodged itself in his trachea and killed him. I know that it sounds made up but it is true. Wednesday was very grey. The clouds had come to rest on the tree tops, but the wind had died down a little and the thunder stopped for a while. The fishing was good, but we were spoiled by Monday and in comparison, it seemed light. I think that I must have gotten some rain water in one of my baitcasters, because drag system was malfunctioning. I was using 10lb test Trilene and on three occasions rather large Largemouth Bass had snapped my line. While the catch rate was down from Monday, we had an excellent time touring the lake and picking up fish just about everywhere. Around 3 in the afternoon, the treetop clouds decided to come all the way down. By the time "actual" nightfall came, the was a wall of fog so thick that the lights from the shore were obscured. The rolling thunder in the distance, along with the late hour pushed us back to shore. We stood on the pier casting into blind oblivion. I think Scott managed to collect 2 or 3 Largemouth Bass before all of his lines got hung up. We had a couple of rounds of "Fish & Chee" before heading off to bed. Up until Thursday, the temperatures were in the middle sweatshirt and flanel pants area. Thursday was hot and sunny. The trauma of all the storms and rain were waning and the fish were getting up and active again. Scott and I netted a few dozen minnows. The plan was to go after some Perch with the minnows on Ultra-Lites. We managed to do just that and catch the occasional Largemouth Bass as well. It is a real riot when a fat Largemouth Bass grabs your minnow and heads off to the hills peeling off your drag. Aric took a break to study up for the North Carolina Vet boards. Scott and I spent a few hours at the Bass Hole collecting "Perch & Chee". It was hot and the sun was somewhat uncomfortable but the fishing was hot too. As evening was settling, the air grew still and the smell of the lake, warm from the day, was rich. The entire perimeter was alive with sounds. It seemed like it was going to be a perfect evening. Of course just about half an hour after we set off, the Thunder and Lightning returned, again. The rain started to fall heavily, the battery sparked in protest and we decided to turn in and get an early start the next morning, our last day. I had set my alarm for 4:20 but when I got up it was so dark and Aric and Scott were sleeping soundly that I postponed the start for about 40 minutes. I took the picture at the bottom of this section about 5:10 that morning. It looked to be a great day. The guys got active about half an hour later and we headed out. I was still using the minnows on my Ultra-Lite but Aric and Scott had gone back to Pumpkinseeded Texas-Rigs. I caught Largemouth Bass, Rock Bass and a bunch of Perch that morning. We switched gears and broke camp around 9:30. There is a curtain of reality that tends to fall around you while you clean up and pack. The little troubles of life never have a chance here until it is almost time to go. Then, as you start to think about heading home, they creep in. I know that Aric had to have a serious load on his mind. He was moving to North Carolina the next day. I was thinking about my family and how much I missed them. I don't know what Scott was thinking about. The ride back seemed to go by quickly. We got back to Lafayette just as the dust of reality began to settle. Aric and I picked up his 25 foot Penske, then He, Scott and I proceeded to stuff his entire life into that truck. The packing was a chore at first but as it progressed, Scott and I began to really get into it. It seemed that everything fit in just so and intertwined and locked into the other stuff with such bizarre precision. It has been over a week now and I haven't heard anything from Aric. My guess is that they haven't figured out the secret to unlocking everything and that it is all still in the truck.  

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Sunday, May 6th. Mr Pike's maiden voyage. We went up to Long Lake, just over the Michigan border. The mission, begin the testing period on Mr. Pike 17. Since this is far more boat than Scott's old one [which is for sale by the way] and has a plethora of advanced high tech features, we spent a good part of the day experimenting. I'll try to get Scott's opinion in his own words, until then, here's what I thought about the Lund Mr. Pike 17 experience, from the bottom. The trailer is constructed well and the boat pulls nicely. I didn't notice any unusual handling in Scott's truck as we drove up to the lake, even on the winding hills after the we got off the Interstate. All of the trailer's guide and fasteners seemed be layed out well. We had to put some effort into getting the cranker to release but I think that is a good thing. Once the strap was released, the rollers allowed for a smooth glide into the water. The ramp at Long Lake dumps into a rather shallow area. I was concerned about the the hull or motor bottoming out but it rolled off without incident. The 75 horse Mercury 4-stroke sprang to life with the simple turn of the key. This action brought a pause of amazement from both Scott and I every time that day. Scott's previous vessel had a Johnson with one of those lawn mower type yanking cords. Rip starting isn't bad if you can start it on the first rip and I must admit, when I was on Scott's boat, it usually started right away but I've heard of times when he spent a good deal of the day yanking his Johnson. Anyway, a turn of the key and the 4-stroke purred. I really mean, purred! It was so quiet and smooth. The 2 stroke motors that I've seen have been loud, smokey and shudder. This Merc was quiet, smoke free and the vibration was negligible. We let the moter idle for about five minutes in awe. The boat itself is layed out very well. Starting at the bow, the trolling motor platform hold the Minn Kota AutoPilot perfectly. Directly below is a storage area for the foot pedal and all the connections are right there. There is also a switch which allows you to adjust the trim on the Merc from the bow. The bow casting platform has four doors leading to two storage areas and a "Pro-Long Live well". There is also a compartment in the front of the console that hold 2 Plano tackle trays. The live wells were a puzzlement. I'm sure that some training will solve our issues. The concept is this. The integrated live wells pump in water from the lake through a screen inlet in the transom. The water is both aerated [to keep the oxygen levels up] and recirculated [to keep the temperature down] We thought that it would be a no-brainer but it was the only item of the day that made us get the handbook out and we still couldn't get it figured. We'd turn on the pump and fill it up and then set it to automatically cycle and invariably, it would let almost all of the water out. There are two main components to this system. 1. The Fill-Empty-Recirculate switch and 2. the Aerator switch. I know that there must be some "secret" combination to these to switches that will make it do what I expect but the book is weak on that point. As you step down into the main, there is another hatch in the deck that leads to the dual trolling batteries, we stayed out of there. The console looked smart. I didn't drive at all so I cannot comment on the layout of the guages or the feel of the wheel. Dual rod lockers, one on each side, were adequate for up to 7 foot rods. We each had our own locker, which was a kick. One thing that bothers me when fishing is clutter on the deck. I brought six rods and was dedicated to only have one out at a time. Multiple rods set up for different baits and situations is a must. In the past, the rods-in-waiting where layed out wherever they could be and more often than not, they are not out of the way enough. It was a great comfort to move freely about the boat and not have to worry about hang up on or stepping on a rod. Although manageable, it was a little hard to swap rods. The rod locker is farely deep but not too wide and keeping everything untangled took a little patience. There is another live well in the aft casting paltform as well as a second battery compartment. There a three seats, one fixed behind the console and two others that can be mounted into any of the five mounts. Both seats travel in the two adjacent rear positions. I moved one up to the center, next to the console Scott moved one up to the bow. The seats snap lock into the pedestal mounts and a threaded knob can free the seat to rotate. The seats were firm, solid and dry. They also promote good posture. The stereo system wasn't exaclty THX certified and the absence of auto-reverse on the tape deck was a mild disappointment but it sounded 100% better than the stereo on Scott's old boat which had no offering in that department.I got the impression that Lund's designers must be fisherman who got into the habit of taking notes when they were out fishing. Things seemed to be where they needed to be and I imagined them fishing and saying wouldn't it be nice if there were a feature that does this right over there. Even the interior lights are of the non-bug attracting yellow variety. There is also a light in the live well. I know that sometime, somewhere some guy was doing some night fishing and trying to get a minnow out of the live well and couldn't see it. So, he said "hey, put a light in the live-well." As for the performance, it was rather windy andthe lake was choppy but the ride was smooth. It was even more smooth than riding in the truck. The Lund's hull design keeps the water out of your face too. Since this was the motor's first day, we kept it reasonable. The trim adjustment will take some getting used before the optimums are figured out. At one point, we had the bow way up out of the water it was cool to cruise the lake, but we weren't there to cruise, we fish. The true test of managing a boat is to take it out fishing on a windy day and not bring any anchors. This was kind of a bummer at the time but looking back, I think that it was a valuable experience. It forced Scott to reposition and correct etc, providing great practice. Had we brought anchors, we might have just parked and fished all day and miss out on that training. More than once, Scott and I found ourselves on the bow casting deck both fishing comfortably. The stability of the Mr. Pike was marvelous. The beam is 92 inches. That is a pretty wide craft. That stability allowed for free movement all over the boat. Without a second thought, walking all about without the slightest wobble. The trolling motor was put to the test too. The weedless prop design was exactly that. We chugged through some underwater jungle and had no problem at all. The foot pedal control was set up differently than Scott's old one so that took some getting used to. With 65 pounds of thrust, we were able to cruise directly into the wind at a good clip. The auto pilot feature was pretty good too. Inside the trolling motor is a compass. Point the trolling motor and engage the auto pilot and it will follow that compass heading. It was kind of weird watching it adjust itself to compensate for the wind. In the end, it seemed like the wind was winning. During the still of deep summer though, the autopilot will be a great asset for working a shoreline. It was about 3 minutes before dark and we decided that it would be best to do the first egress with some light. Scott disembarked and back the trailer down the ramp then we swapped, I stood ready on the traler while he brought the boat around for the mount. The operation was a complete success even in the windy, low light conditions. Within a few minutes, the gear was all stowed and the boat fastened tight to the trailer. It was a great outing. The ride home was rather uneventful, but it is here where the features that make this boat great, work against you. Although the rolling weight is reasonable, towing a 1200 pound boat will suck out the gas, currently $1.89/gallon meaning a 30 gallon truck tank will cost about $60 bucks to fill. The 92" beam while a complete joy to fish from is a nightmare to back into a narrow driveway. We spent a good deal of time trying to squeeze it past a mini-van from the street which was ridiculously busy at 10:00pm on a Sunday night. We discovered the trailer's weakness at this time. It has no backup lights. We ended up moving the van and holding up traffic for a few minutes to manuver it in. Once that was accomplished, it took a little effort to install the cover. I think that because it was so late and we were both tired, it augmented the feeling that the work was hard. Had we simply fastened Mr.Pike to the pier at 8:30 and walked up to the cottage to some steaks on the grill and a round of victory Heineken's, the experience would have been flawless.

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      I went to bed at 11:30 Saturday night. I knew that I had to get up at 2:00 am to set out for Berrien Springs but the excitement of the next day kept me awake. Scott had arranged this. He had been up on the Steelhead run before and had brought back tales of his battles man-o e fish-o. I was apprehensive about the trip. I had saved up the money to buy my Tackle Station and going on this charter would deplete those funds. The weather was also a consideration. It was supposed to be cold again that day with a high of 33 and snow in the forecast. I new that this was serious though when Scott showed up on time! It was 3:00am and we were on the road. We stopped for what we thought would be a routine fuel acquisition. Because of the nature of the midnight-to-dawn clientel, the gas station requires a few extra hoops to jump through and the simple matter of filling up the tank took almost 15 minutes. We were on a schedule. We had to connect with Dave and Randy at another gas station along the highway at 4:30. Berrien Springs is about two hours away. Fortunately Dave and Randy were pulling into the station just as we were. The connection made, the next stop was Michigan Fishing licenses. As we headed up 31 into Michigan, the snow began to fall. We arrived in Berrien Springs at 5:30 [as directed by the Capt Bill] Unfortunately, the 24 hour gas station and bait shop where we were supposed to get our licenses was closed. The fall back plan was this guy who ran a tackle shop out of his house. In theory, all we would have to do was ring his bell and he'd get up and sell us licenses. We found the place but rinnging the bell didn't do anything but buzz. So we were there on time but without license. So we figured that we'd check in with Capt Bill and see if he had any other licensing options for us. We pulled into Shamrock park and eventually found Capt Bill and his boat. We loaded our stuff onto the boat. Capt Bill provided all of the fishing gear so we just brought food, drink and cold weather clothing. There didn't seem to be much else available for licenses so we revisited the places we tried before in hopes that they might have opened. It was just turning 6:00 when we got back to the "old Guy's " house and he was opening up the shop. It had been snowing hard now for about 40 minutes. We were pressed for time. Capt Bill wanted to be on the river by 5:30 so we could get to "his" spot. Capt Bill is in his mid-30's and has been fishing on the St Joe River for 17 years. This experience is what makes him such an excellent guide. He knows where to go and he knows what to use once you get there. This licensing delay was costing us our spot on the river. The guy at the bait shop was nice enough, just a little old and it took him a while to process the paperwork for each license. Experience has taught me that when dealing with the older generation, it is best to try not to confuse them with anything that they don't expect. The formula for success is, 1.Make your request - "I need a one day fishing license" 2. Wait until the first transaction is complete before making any further inquiries. Dave and Randy were not aware of this unwritten rule. While the kindly old gent was trying to enter their information, they pelted him with questions about the need for the "Sportsman's club card" and pricing on some of the tools in his showcase. I could see each question derailing the guy's train of thought. Randy paid with one of the new Sacagawea dollars. This crashed the train. The whole thing was very funny Randy and Dave are hilarious. We finally got out of there and soon we were on the boat and cruising down river to "the spot". It was very cold but Capt Bill has a cab on his boat and a kerosene heater that kept things almost too warm. I borrowed Alex's big orange thermal trousers. Apart from my hands, I wasn't uncomfortable and after the first fish was boated, my hands never felt the cold again. There were 3 guys in a little boat in the spot we wanted so we postioned a little farther down stream. Capt Bill had several baitcasters on heavy rods spooled with some maroon colored heavy duty line. He ties the hooks on using a special knot and baits them with spawn sacks. So we were "walking the spawn" directly off the back of the boat and drift fishing with wobble-glows from the sides. It was snowing so hard that it was difficult to see. Scott had told me tales of battling Steelhead but you really must do it to appreciate the power of the fish. Dave brought in the first one and I the second. By the time you convince the Steelhead to get into the boat, you can expect a nice burn pumping through your arms. There were people near the shore, in the river wearing waders. They were doing well too. This section of river is the Steelhead spawning area and if you can get in the right spot, you can be sitting on dozens of fish. We were really impressed by the ability of this woman in waders. She was tagging some good fish. We figured out during the course of the day that she really was a guy who rather accurately resembled a woman. We hung out for a while, cruised a while as we waited patiently for the three men in the little boat to move off of our desired location. At one point another charter boat got too close to those guys and they made it clear with a barrage of expletives that they did not appreciate the proximity that the other boat had taken. Eventually the ferocity of the little dog barking made the big dog slink away with his tail between his legs. Early in the afternoon Randy hooked into a rather large Steelhead and he worked it for a long time. It was exciting to watch as the sinker would break surface signalling how close the fish was only to be ripped away again. We chased it downstrem with the boat and after all that time, it snapped itself free. About 3:30, the snow and clouds came in so thick that it looked like night was upon us. We hung in there scoring a Steelhead here and there. Scott hooked into one from the bow and had to pass the rod over the cab so he could get to the back and finish him off. It was about 5:30 or 6:00 in the evening when the 3 guys in the little boat hit the highway. We slid into the "spot" and almost instantly began to pick them up. It was almost quitting time and Capt Bill was determined to see me get another one. He hooked into one that similiar to Randy's gave me a heck of a fight and we ended up chasing downstream with the boat. After what felt like a rather long time. We got the fish up to the net. Unfortunately, the sinker got wrapped around the lip of the net and the steelhad snapped the line and was gone. Capt Bill was disappointed. He really wants his crew to have a blast. So, he insisted on trying again. My arms were still rubbery from that last battle and before they could recover, I had the fish [see picture] on the line. I wrestled him to the boat after about five minutes and the net was ready. You might have heard but in case you didn't, Steelhead HATE to get into the boat. When he saw the net coming, he took off hard down river. My line was ripping off the spool like I was casting. It kept going and going. I told Capt Bill that I was running out of line. He got the boat in gear and we raced down the river backwards as I reeled up as fast as I could. Pump, reel, pull back, reel in a little more. It was nearly dark by the time we got him on the boat. I was almost too tired to hold him up, but the adrenaline had me jacked! I sat out on the back of the boat on the way back to camp watching the darkness fall on the new snow. We passed Muhammed Ali's place on the St Joe River. We got back to the ramp just as it was getting too dark to see. Capt Bill, clean the fish for us. Scott and I head for home at almost 9:00pm. It was snowing again and the radio mentioned lake effect snow. We wondered how far from the lake you would have to be before the snow was no longer "lake effect" snow. It was a long ride home. 

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It was the second weekend of February and I went ice fishing. The location was northwest Michigan, about 2 hours north of Grand Rapids. The temperatures ranged between lows around zero to highes in the mid 20s. It was not only a fishing trip but also a test of endurance. The accommodations consisted of an early 70's camper/trailer and a wooden tool shed. The only sources of heat were a propane stove and a small portable electric heater. At its warmest the camper was probably 5 or 10 degrees warmer than the outside. It was cold! There were two little private lakes close at hand. Our camp was situated on the banks of Strawberry lake while Horse head lake was a brisk half mile hike west. We started out on Horse head. Being a quarter of the size of Strawberry, we figured that our chances of locating fish were greater there. We spent the first two days exploring Horse head scoring a meager 3 Bluegill. I suggested that we drill holes about 30 yards in front of the camp on Strawberry and try to connect with some Rock Bass. The Rock Bass were heavy in that area when we were there in October. The other members of the expedition agreed to try since we weren't getting anything on Horse head anyway. It was just after sunset when we arrived back on Strawberry. The temperature had fallen into the low teens. There was two feet of snow covering everything and the cold blue glow was somewhat eerie. The lake was hard at work making ice as well. If you have never had the chilling pleasure of being on a frozen lake when it is making ice, let me tell you it is a strange sensation. As you know, as water freezes, it expands and during this expansion the ice compresses against itself. When there is no more room to expand, the ice cracks and shifts, much like the tectonic plates that cause earthquakes. The resultant effect is loud cracking sounds that race about the lake followed by the deep sounds of the water underneath being pushed away. If you can, try to imagine what a rolling thunderstorm might sound if it was entirely underwater. Coupled with the growing darkness, it made for some mysterious vibes. Anyway, we put in a few holes where I thought the Rock Bass were several months earlier and within minutes, we were all catching Rock Bass. Scott and Aric seemed surprised to find fish here in the shallows after dark.. Of course, this was a lucky guess on my part but I had to play it off as some kind of instinctual prowess. Alex had the the sweet spot. This was his first trip to Strawberry and he was pulling fish out of that hole in the ice like he was born to do it. I had a hole about 3 and half feet away and I wasn't getting anywhere near the hits he was. I wish that we had thought to drop Scott's Aqua-view down their to see what they were dialed in on. We have this rule that whenever anybody gets a fish on, they say "Fish On" so that we may all vicariously enjoy the moment. Alex was saying "Fish On" so much that he was beginning to worry about us less fortunate and quietly began to sneak fish out of the hole. We all managed a couple of fish, but we had Alex to thank for our dinner that night. Scott bought a Vexilar unit ofr this trip. If you never have used a Vexilar, it is really incredible. If you have used a Vexilar, Yeah baby! We brought our frozen dinner inside and warmed them in pots of melted snow in order to soften them up enough to filet. I made some seasoned pork chops on the grill. We ate well and watched "Saving Private Ryan." After the movie, it was around 2:00am Scott and I got a second wind. We went out on the ice again. i quickly snagged Alex's ex-spot and quckly pulled out 4 or 5 more. It was even colder now, right around zero degress To further demonstrate the extreme cold, consider the following. Upon catching a fish, we tossed them onto a pile on the ice. In a matter of minutes, the fish would be frozen solid. Exhibit B. I opened a bottle of Moosehead Beer and was only able to get two sips out of the bottle before the entire contents had turned to ice. After a an hour or so, i was done. Scott decided to stay out a little longer. He almost fell asleep out there. He commented that when he nodded off his thoughts were of Bon Scott, the late AC/DC guy or Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining. Yes it was cold, inside and out. It was hard to get used to the idea that going inside didn't help. The snow and ice on our boots was still there in the morning even after being inside all night. It was this test of endurance that made this trip so meaningful.  

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We were planning to head up to Strawberry on a Thursday night. Aric would meet us up there rather than come all the way to town. Something happened at the last moinute and Aric was going to be delayed until Friday evening. Scott and I were ready to go on Thursday night so we decided to go up to his rental on Lake James Thursday evening and do some night fishing. His boat was in the shop so we'd figured that we'd fish from the pier that evening then pick up his boat in the morning, fish Lake James until late afternoon then hit the road for Strawberry to meet up with Aric. And so, on that Thursday evening began my longest fishing day. Scott picked me up at my house around 8:00pm and we stopped at Meijer's for last minute supplies. We got James somewhere around 9:30 and headed down the long flight of stairs down to the dock. It was a great evening. I recall that we were a day or two away from the full moon. We were rigged with topwater lures, Jitterbugs and Skitterpops. We had fished for about 3 hours and saw an amazing moon rise but weren't getting any fish. We were at the point of surrender and were making plans to call it a night when I decided to ditch the topwater and try a Shad Rap. I figured that maybe something a couple of feet below the surface with some vibration might be in order. I scored a Largemouth Bass on the first cast. The weariness feel away from me and I began to pull bass out pretty quickly. As I was removing the hooks from one, he shook off and fell smack down hard on the dock with a loud thump. He layed there still for a few seconds then regained "consciousness". Reading back , it doesn't sound humorous at all, but there on that night, it was very funny. Well Scott stood and watched in disbelief for about four or five bass then went back to the cottage to see if he had any similar lures. The only thing he found was a black, rattling crankbait that had the Pittsburgh Steelers logo on it. I think his mother got it for him from QVC and up until this night, he thought of it as a joke or novelty lure and never actually used it. He was a believer after a cast or two when he began to catch bass on the Steelers lure. We stood there on the pier until about 4:30 having a blast. I woke up on Friday morning around 7:00am [Yes, just about two and a half hours later.] I had just bought my first pair of polarized sunglasses and was anxious to check out the water with them. I took my spinning rod and Shad Rap down to the pier and began to cast. If you are on the water and don't have polarized glasses, get some. The polarizing effect allows you to screen out the glare on the surface and see into the water well. I was surprised about how well I could see fish and things in the water. I was casting and watching the action of my lure, not really trying too hard to catch anything. On one of the retrieves, I was watching the the lure wobble along. It was passing over a clump of vegitation when a I this bass pop out of the weeds, inhale my lure and turn to head back to the weeds. It was cool to watch. We picked up Scott's boat around 8:00 or 8:30 and fished a little in front of the cottage, then went over to Stump point to try our luck there. I was trying out my new baitcaster and was getting pretty discouraged as I untangled backlash after backlash. I din't know anything about baitcasters at the time and I couldn't figure out how those birdnests were happening. So I put it away and went back to my spinning stuff. It was Friday and the lake was quickly beginning to populate with weekenders. It is pretty high traffic with speeders, skiers, and jetskis. We fished unti around 1:00pm then decided to head up to the St Joe River in Berrien Springs for some Walleye. It was kind of on the way to Strawberry anyway. So we hopped in the car and two hours later we were standing on the shore just below the dam bouncing nightcrawlers along the rocky river bottom. Scott was using his 9 foot steelhead rod and was doing well, scoring a Walleye here and there. I wasn't doing as well. We saw some stray dog, try to negotiate the rather strong current. We thought that he might have made a big mistake but he seemed to manage his way across the river ok. I did manage to pierce a minnows as I drug my line through some weeds. He was hooked just like I would have baited him, so I cast him out and ended up catching my only Walleye with him. It was after 8:00 pm when we decided to pack up and head for Strawberry. Aric was supposed to getting there around 10:00 or so. He was going to send an e-mail to my pager if anything changed. I hadn't noticed that I was not in a pager service area. I guess we were farther from Strawberry than we had thought. It ended up taking us until almost midnight before we got there. As we neared Grand Rapid, my pager buzzed with a message that had been stored from earlier that day. It was Aric telling us that he had come up early and was already at the camp and had been since 6:00 or 7:00 that evening. We finally got there, unloaded the car, grabbed our gear and got on the boat. It was just after midnight by now. We fished until around 9:30 or 10:00 then next morning. Aric's cousin and his buddy had come up for the weekend as well so we sharing the boat. We saw that they had gotten up so we headed in for some breakfast and a nap. It was a long day that spanned 36 hours and 3 venues separated by one two hour nap and two car rides. Aric's cousin and his cousin's friend were nice guys. They weren't as "hard core" on the fishing as we were. They were there to relax, fish and enjoy the great outdoors through a few Corona's. The boat is a moderately sized pontoon. It is spacious for two fishermen but not uncomfortable with three. Five however was out of the question, so we ended up taking shifts. Aric, Scott and I [the old guys] had the boat from around sunset until cousin and friend [the young guys] got up in the morning 8:30 - 10:00 ish. The young guys would go out for about three or maybe four hours at a time. So the olds guys would have a mid day ride as well as the night shift. It was July, the bass were active and the blast was topwaters. One morning Aric tossed what I believe was a Skitterpop or Hula-popper up near the shore and there was an explosive strike. I don't think he got that one but we were all adrenalized. Aric had explained how my baitcaster worked and I spen tthe bulk of our off-boat time on the dock trying to perfect my cast. One evening just after dark, we pulled the boat up near the northwest shore where there is a wall of reeds that stretches about forty yards. I think that Aric was throwing a black buzzbait. I was using a large white jitterbug with black spots all over and one red spot on its belly. I was whizzing it at the reeds with my newly formed baitcasting skills and the was a 20 minute window where Aric and I each caught three or four good largemouths. It was cool. I throw my Jitterbug into the darkness and listen to the "dripple" noise that it makes which would be interrupted by a huge splash and tug. It was a genuine blast. during the day we'd hook up with some bluegill on rare occasion. We also were tempting Perch with minnows on floating head jigs. Scott and I devised a minnow catching project and put our off-boat afternoons to good use collecting minnows. The bluegill weren't as plentiful as they were the previous October and the perch were few but we manged to boat some of each. Even in July, the nights are cold up there and we'd gear up for our nights on the boat with warm clothes and all the tackle we could carry. The idea was to be prepared for anything and not have to come back in until absolutely necessary. Scott's luck wasn't as good on this trip, he just didn't seem to connect. Aric and I caught a good amount of fish each so we ate well. Aric got the hatfish and we all had a great time. 

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Scott and Aric invited me back to Strawberry for ice fishing in January. Still not into the fishing "thing", I was certainly not going to freeze my butt off for it. So my next trip was in April. The weather was nice here in town. It was warm and very spring like. However, up at Strawberry, it was just getting over winter. I had packed some cool weather clothing but I was not prepared for how cold and windy it was up there. After all, in October, it was beautiful! The fishing was really hard that time. I think that I was wearing every article of clothing that I brought and could borrow. We didn't stay out on the boat as much as we did before. We ended up catching only four fish the entire weekend. Scott caught 2 and I caught two including the one that caught me! You remember that hat that I won on my first trip. Well Scott had one it away from on the first day. On the afternoon of the second day the winds were coming hard out of the east. We were fishing the windward shore. It was borderline brutal and we weren't catching anything. The water temperature was in the high 40's I think. Being the novice, I looked over at the eastern shore and saw a little inlet protected from the wind by a ridge. The water there looked calm. I told them that my "instincts" said that we should fish over there. Since nothing was happening, we went. I figured at least it would be a little more fun to catch nothing out of the wind. Now, usually when we go out on these trips, we spend a great deal of time on the boat. When I say great deal of time, I mean that we'll fish for 6 hours come in for an hour or two then bo back out for 8 hours then come back in to eat dinner then go back out for 5 hours then come back in to sleep for 3 or 4 hours then start over. So, with just one and a half trips under my belt, I must have thrown 1000 casts. Anyway, the point is that I had some practice. As we glided out of the wind and along the calm shore, I saw a pair of submerged logs [now known as Hoglog] I was paying attention as Scott and Aric talked about structure and cover. From my perpective, the logs looked like a big underwater "A" with the middle bit missing. With my newly developed casting skills, I was able to lay my power worm right at the point of the "A" and walk it down one of the legs. Near the end of the log is when the fat beastie you see in the picture had a go at my worm. The hookset felt great! I began to crank him in. The guys were telling me "Don't horse him!" I had no idea what that meant. The Largemouth was taking my drag. It was a great feeling. As I was playing him, I told Scott "Mr. Norton, I think you are wearing my hat." It was this moment that made me love fishing. To me, that big fish from that last fall was total luck. This fish, was mine. I picked the spot, I made an intentional cast, I felt the bite and set the hook. This was no accident. The fish was 23 inches long and 13 inches around. During the downtime, Aric and Scott made me watch Mandingo. They think it is great, I think I missed something, but "you dance with who brung ya."

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Aric and Scott had asked me to go fishing with them before. I never did, it simply wasn't my bag baby. My fishing experience consisted of a day in a boat on the Connecticut River when I was in 8th grade with my friend Robbie Thomas and his dad. I don't even remember what kind of fish we were catching. That was spring of 1979. The next time I went was later that year with my Grandpa Guingrich. He used to fish a bit. We went down to the river by IPFW and caught a few little sunfish. Grandpa had one of those cane poles that seemed to 15 feet long at the time. Fast forward to my third time out. Chain O' Lakes State Park. I'd guess it was 1993. A couple of my brothers in law wanted to go fishing. Not into the fishing thing at all, I bought a blue light special combo and a ridiculously large crankbait. Dan was rowing us out into the main lake there near where we rented the boat. I was casting my huge lure out and cranking it back. On one of the retrieves, it came in with a little bass on it that was almost as big as the lure. I was the only one to catch anything that day. That rod was used to fly kites for a couple of years before being thrown out. OK so that was where I was coming from. I just wasn't interested at all. Aric and Scott had been going up to Strawberry for a couple of years. This time, I gave in. It seemed that even if I wasn't into the fishing thing, it would be a good time hang with some old friends and get out of the city for a while. Those guys were more than generous. I used their rods and reels, I was welcome to their tackle boxes and they were patient and informative. They both agreed that In-Fisherman magazine was an excellent source for information about freshwater fishing. Anyway since it was October, we were using offset hooks, bullet sinkers and Berkley Power Worms Texas rigged. Of course the trip was fun. I mean even without the fishing, being able to camp out with friends is fun and the weather was especially nice. We split up our fishing time between Texas rigging for bass and slip bobbing for bluegill. We all did well with the bluegill but Aric and Scott were also doing well with the bass. I could get the hang of "feeling" the bottom. I did manage to get one or two. Scott was the man on fire. He seemed to have it dialed in. Just after dark on Saturday, we were drifting around what has now known as the "Basshole" the boat was turning a bit and in an effort to keep my line from crossing Scott's, I lifted my rod up over his head to come around to the other side of the boat. It was at this instant that I accidentally hooked into a 21 1/5 inch Largemouth. It was like a balloon of excitment had burst all over us. I was twilight and we could see a big slab of silver a few feet below the surface. With the expert guidance of my friends, we were able to net and boat this big guy and I won the hat. The comments from my colleagues were "I've been fishing for 5 years for that fish" - Aric and "I'd trade all 7 that I caught today for that one" - Scott . Yes indeed, it was a great trip but I wasn't hooked on fishing yet.

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