Growing up in Wisconsin, I was in the 8th grade, I spent my summers at my Grandparents house up north on Lake Windfall. I would fly fish for gills around the lily pads. I was bringing a small one in on the flyrod and got to playing with it. When I quite bringing it in the fish would just stay still trying to spit the popper out, if I put a little pull on him he would go round and round. I did this a couple times, enjoying the little game, not knowing I had another interested party watching. I remember about falling out of the boat when what seemed like a musky as long as the boat, hit the gill, his mouth was wide open as the fish was upright in his mouth. My rod bowed to the point of breaking then it was over as quick as it had begun, the 2lb test line was no match for the challenge. I literally sat in the boat and shook from the event that just unfolded. I spun around in the seat and rowed back across the lake to get grandmas pike fishing pole, I was going to catch one of those monsters. I don't remember what kind of lure I had on but I remember it was heavy and when dark fell my arms were worn out from casting. There was a resort on the lake that I walked to the next morning, I asked Bruce (owner) what I needed to catch a musky, he broke out his tackle box and lifted a old scratched up wooden bait (Bobby bait) out and handed it to me, it was red on the nose and white on the back half, you could adjust the bill to run deep or on top. Many evenings I threw that thing till my arms were ready to fall off. Everytime I had a fallow up or near miss I had to sit down to catch my composure then it would start all over again. That following summer we moved to St Louis and I never fished for Musky again, but every time I see a Musky posted on here, my thoughts go back to that summer, I just smile and it all comes back to me like it was yesterday.
Thanks for bringing those memories back this morning
Ray