Fishing Tall Tales page 2

Most of my favorite fishing memories were when I was fishing with my Dad. He is the greatest outdoorsman that I know and he started teaching me at an early age a love for the outdoors (God's Country, he called it). I spent most of my childhood days roaming around the Cascade Mountains of the Pacific Northwest, fishing all the coastal streams and haunting the lakes in the high country.It was my Dad who taught me how to drift a night crawler into an undercut bank on a stream, and I remember many times being surprised at how big a fish it was that lived there. My dad was the first fisherman I know that used a fly rod and reel, but put monofilament line on the reel. He liked the sensitivity of the fly rod, but needed 60 feet of line for lake fishing. My Dad was inovative in his fishing techniques...he's the only one I know that used women's fingernail polish to mark his line at just the right depth when fishing straight down in deep water. He also found a use for an old pair of panty hose while fishing...it involved putting a rock and a can of tuna fish in it...but that's all I'm going to say about that.We would often fish East Lake (near Bend, Oregon) on opening day, and it would be very cold up there with snow on the banks and ice still floating in the water. It was on those cold days where Dad taught me the rules for drinking Brandy while fishing for trout. You started out by taking a swig (Blackberry was his favorite)after every fish that you caught. If the fishing was slow, then it changed to taking a swig after every bite. If it was really slow fishing, then you took a swig after every time you thought you had a bite.My Dad was a hunter/gather type of outdoorsman and having lived through the depression...he valued having an ample supply of meat on hand...and we kept a lot of fish. It was not uncommon for our family to come home from a weekend at East Lake with 120 fish, and all accept for a few would be put in the freezer. If you freeze trout they lose about 30% of their taste. To this day, I can't stand the taste of trout after it has been frozen. Through the years my Dad has changed his habit of keeping fish and actually has become quite an advocate for wildlife conservation.It was my Dad who introduced me to big game fishing in Baha, Mexico, and helped me catch my biggest fish ever...which will be my next story. I know this wasn't a story about one fishing trip or such, but I wanted to start by honoring the person who introduced me to one of the greatest pursuits in life, fishing, and I am forever thankful for him doing so.

It was Montana, early 80's living a stone's throw from the Flathead River near Blankenship Bridge. It seemed like if I wasn't in school there was a rod or rifle in my hands. We hauled water and wood with some basic AC power to run a portable fridge, TV and some lights.Work was seasonal and there were some real scary times money-wise. Fishing and hunting was a way of life and we may or may not have followed all of the rules all of the time. But we let nothing go to waste and we never killed anything unless we ate it. If not...we went hungry and sometimes we still went hungry. I was 11 to 13 and my favorite fishing hole in the summer was not because of the fishing action but because of the thimbleberry and rasberry bushes that were numerous nearby. If you fish there...take the trail over the high mound to the east by the railroad tracks, scope for black bears and then move west down to the grass covered ravine. The fishing cove is at your feet and the berry bushes are to your right.

Musky on Lake Miltona Minnesota

Sometimes I think the Big Guy Upstairs has a plan for us that initially seems flawed but later we realize it was the best thing that happened to us. Such is the case with the meeting of my girlfriend Teri, a small town girl from Minnesota. I had never been to Minnesota, but the first time I drove back there to visit her family, my neck was sore from staring at all the lakes we passed. Add to that the fact that every 4th vehicle or so has a boat in tow and I was lucky to be alive with all the road distractions I had along the way. I knew from that first trip that this was a place I wanted to come back to again and again.By the summer of 2023, we had already made several summer trips to visit her brother who lived on a small farm outside a town of about 300 people. Every day, she would visit the relatives and I would head off fishing, often with the kids.I believe it is important for my kids to experience a totally different type of living such as there is on a farm. They fed the cows, picked the corn and spent time working the fields with Teri's brother. The area is so peaceful and the stars are bright due to the fact that there is no light pollution like we have in the Big Cities around here. Don't get me wrong, I love it here and have been living in Colorado since I was five years old, but sometimes the huge population increases, traffic, and houses being built in all the fields I played in as a kid gets me down. I have always thought that the front range of Colorado, with its backdrop of the mountains had some of the best sunsets on this earth, but I found that there is a unique character to the sunsets in this remote country as well. The air is moist and the bugs are thick, but it is a beautiful sight nonetheless:

Due to the northern location, the sun doesn't completely go down until about 10PM in the summers. I usually spent my evenings looking at lake maps and planning my next day's fishing trip. Each lake has a different character and with the numerous list to choose from, it can be somewhat overwhelming. So I talk to the locals at the small taverns and get a hint of where people like to fish and why.These "tavern talks" led me south from the farm to Lake Miltona. I carefully studied the lake map, learning about the structure of this ~6000 acre lake just north of Alexandria. I spent a couple summers exploring the lake each time we went back there until I had this memorable trip, in July of 2023.My 5th day of vacation began as it had for several days prior, waking up to the cool farm air and having a cup of 7-11 style Java to get me going. I was planning to take my son Matt (then 4) and his cousin Brayde (6) fishing with me today and so I was hoping it would be a good day on the water. The drive to the lake (about 45 minutes) is along highways that traverse farm lands, with small towns every 5-10 miles. Even though these are "major" roads, you don't see many cars and when you do you get in the habit of behaving as a local, waving as the car goes by in the other direction. We stopped at a gas station to fill up and by the kids all the snacks they wanted for the day.Our first part of the trip centered on drifting leaches on Lindy Rigs around the humps of the lake. You get used to dealing with the dozens of bluegills, perch and rock bass you catch while trying to get a few elusive walleyes. This trip, the walleyes were hard to catch and so I proceeded to another hump which I knew was good for largemouth bass. Just the year before while fishing for bass there, I saw a huge musky follow my spinnerbait to the boat and I was so shook up by it that I forgot all about the "figure 8" you are supposed to use to entice a following musky to bite. Having this experience really made me want to return to that lake.

...and then noticed that the evening clouds were beginning to cover us which was a nice break from the hot sun of the day.I decided to troll reef runners as I had heard in my Tavern Talks that they are a good choice for walleyes. We spent a half hour or so trolling, occasionally getting snagged up and pulling the long weeds off of our lures and placing them back in the water. Along the way, I told the kids my story of seeing a big musky follow my lure last year and explained about how mean muskies are and that they have teeth all over their mouths for shredding their prey. We were trolling at a pretty good clip (2.5-3mph) which I knew was a little fast for walleye but my electric had run out of juice and so I had no choice other than to troll with the main motor.In about 12 feet of water near the weedline, I had a nice bite on my gray/black reef runner. As I reeled the fish in, I thought, "Hmm, this feels like a nice largemouth bass". So I cut the motor and continued to fight the fish, this time wondering if I had snagged him in the weeds as he felt heavier than I expected. Just a few short moments later, the fish plopped up flat on the water with a splash and I felt a rush of joy -- I had hooked my first musky! I yelled to the kids at the top of my lungs, "IT'S A MUSKY!!" and looked over to see the fear on their faces!At first, I was surprised that the fish didn't fight too hard in the beginning, but that all changed when he saw the boat. Each time he was near, he would make a mad dash away, screaming my drag in the process. Now I can't claim that I brought this fish in on light tackle as I was using some heavy-duty braided line on a baitcaster reel. At the time, I was very glad that I had this setup as I had a good feeling of confidence that I would be able to bring the fish in. During the fight he made 3 or 4 mad dashes away from the boat and I just let him run a reasonable distance before he was tired enough for me to bring him along side the boat.By this time, the kids still had a look of fear in their faces and so I knew I had to bring this fish in by myself as they were not goping to be holding the net. I bought this large net at Sportsman's Warehouse a few weeks earlier and I remember as I exited the store hearing an entering customer say to his friend, "Yea, like that guy will ever catch a fish that big. Heh." I wish he could have seen me then, even though the fish was only 36" long (not large by musky standards), I needed every bit of that net and its handle extension to bring the fish in, especially by myself. The kids were now huddling in the bow of the boat, keeping as far away from the mean musky's teeth as possible.Once I brought the fish into the boat, the kids continued to keep their distance, but we had a round of high fives as the testoserone flowed through my veins like I was watching a spectacular touchdown at a football game. My lure had been hooked solidly in the roof of his mouth (sideways, not lengthwise), with both trebles hooked securely. I removed the lure with the pliers and placed the fish in the livewell to let it rest. I learned that day that my livewell was only 36" long and noticed he was just able to sit in there, but could not turn around at all.

The feeling of disbelief that I actually caught that fish lasted for several hours that day. A coiuple days later as I drove home back to Colorado (16 hours), I had a great feeling of satisfaction that the trip was extremely worthwhile. I normally drive the smaller highways rather than the "sterile" interstate because I like the character and interesting sights of driving through small towns in Minnesota, Iowa, South Dakota and Nebraska on the way home. Each one is similar, a water tower bearing the town's name, a park, an old main street and a gas station just off the highway but every once in a while you run across something interesting such as the sign in front of Lakeview, Iowa that reads:" Lakeview, Iowa -- We've got everything but a lake! " As I headed along I-76 back into Colorado, I remember the feeling of disappointment as I got closer to Denver. First only a few cars were traveling along side me, then more and more vehicles appeared and I was quickly back into the heavy traffic I knew so well. Yet this fishing trip had been a great escape and I had photos and memories that would leave me daydreaming in my office chair at work for some time to come...

O.K. its my turn to share why I got into fishing. Four memorable experiences from before I was 5. #1 3 yrs old ( don't remember but I have a pic to show for it and my Dads story to go along with it. Estes Park I cought my first fish it was 21" and 3 lbs caught with a worm and bobber. The pic is hilarious cause my father is a mojor hippie. ( keep the jokes to a minimum please) $th generation Boulderite and no I don't fit into any stereotypical boulderite catagorie. Sorry got a little side tracked. I still have this photo and you can see the utter excitement in my eyes holding this fish in my das arms. #2 was fishing the south st. Vrain in estes canyon with my Grandfather on my fathers side. He showed me the technique I still use to this day and it is the most productive bait set up to this day the slip sinker methoud. We were using fly rods with spinning gear on it needed for the long reach for the little pools that held some big rainbows. It was early summer and the flows had subsided a little but still moving fast. My granfather set me up with a tiny weight and a single salmon egg hook and 1 single egg. I remember thinking to my self this isnt going to catch anything. But as soon as my line slipped into a hole BAM 5lb bow. Lets see if there are anymore in that hole. I remember it looking so small how could it hold any more fish in there but to my surprise there were tons more fish hiding in that little hole. #3 Fishing a little irrigation ditch in Emmons Mn. where my Grandfather on my moms side lived. I remember getting up before the sun to feed the farm animals and dig worms for catching bullheads. But I didn't want to fish for bullheads and I wanted to go for Pike instead so my Grandfather set me up with a 1/2 ouce 5 of diamond yellow daredevil. I was 4 and maybe 40 lbs a whole 3 ft. nothing. Well to make a long story short I threw out and on my first cast latched into a fish that was big enough that my Grandfather had to hold my belt loop to keep me on the shore. He coached me all the in and landed a 30+ incher. Put him on a stringer and cast out agin this time it was probably the 4th of 5th cast I caught a real monster prob 40+ again he had to hold onto my belt loop to keep me out of the drink. Brought it in and went home to show my family what I had done. Still have thatr pic and remember the taste of those fish that my grandmother used her secret Norweigan reciepe for. Still to this day the best tasting fish I have ever had.#4 was when I was 5 my father and 2 uncles along with my grandfather snuck into the inlet at gross to camp. It is not allowed on the South side of Gross as some of u know so we had to wait till it was olmost dark to set up camp. I remember all we had for a tent type thing was a rope and a tarp so we set the rope up between two trees and layed the tarp over the ropes and tightened the tarp with big rocks on all sides and corners. Now is where the fun started the hill was so steep that we all ended up at the bottom smooshing eachother then the rain hit it was by far (the way I remember it anyways) the hardest rain I have ever been in I remember a river was running through the middle. and we awoke (well not really ever slept) when we got outside it had carried my tackle box half way down the mountain. We went fishing and I don't even remember if we caught anything but I did't care cause I was with the adults and being treated like one was so cool.

I got on with United Airlines as a mechanic in 2023... part of the benifits with that was flying every where you could for next to nothing. So of course Alaska was on top of the list.I had been there before with my father on a fishing trip but we were going to make the best of this and go as much as we could. After learning the ropes I thought I had it down pretty good...We would get off midnight shift and get directly on to the 767 non stop to Anchorage and be fishing that afternoon. I was getting to know the town pretty good and was feeling a little bit like a local. Back then we had to fly with a suit on to use the employee passes... So we were off for a three day fishing spree in our suits and a couple fishing rods and a change of clothes. We made the flight O.K. and when we went to retrieve our bags, my fathers was gone... Well we waited a while and they never showed... all the while precious fishing time was wastin... So we said lets go, We stopped at a store and bought some trash bags to use as rain gear for my father,our fishin licsence,and some directions to the closest river we could go to.We had to change our plans and stay somewhat close to town so we could retieve his bags if they showed...So now we are in the rental car headed into the bush with our smiles and my father still in his suit, I think it was a lite blue Leasure Suit.. really ugly!! Headed down the road eager to start fishing and not really feeling the 24 hours I had already been up, nothing mattered to us except to have fun...The directions the local guy gave us were pretty sloppy, so we had to guess alot. We were finally standing in front of a nice looking river that who knows what lurked in those waters... We start throwing stuff and catching big fish, we had 5 and 6 pound chum salmon and grayling and rainbows and pinks and was having a great time...As we worked up the river of course it started to rain and my father had on his trash can rain suit over his Leasure suit, but who cared!!! It was Alaska and we were havinfg fun...We failed to remember that in the summer time you can fish way into the morning and not know that it may be 2:00 am. Suddenly fitigue set in and we stopped to think for a minute. Wow, we are miles up this river and very tired...DUH!! So we sat down against a big pine tree back to back to back. I had a friend with me also. So there we were, the three of us out in the middle of no where with dark setting in and fish all over us and dog tired...We were sound asleep right now, with no cares in the world. It did not take long for the hungry misquitos to munch on my friends belly hanging out of his rain gear or my dads blue suit to soak up the mud his fanny was sitting on....When the sun hit us in the eyes just a few hours later, we really realized how dangerous it really was for us to be out like that in bear country, but we did not dwell on that to much, cause we had fishin to do. We slowly worked our way back to the car catching fish all the way. We had to find a laundry mat for my dads clothes and get him cleaned up for the return trip, and my friends belly was quite the site to see with the hundreds of bites on it....He was no worse for wear and we spent some time sight seeing before we left. We made it back to Denver just in time for us to go back to work by one hour. That was a hard 8 hour shift to pull, but we made it....I will never forget my Dad fishing in Alaska with his blue suit on, covered in trash bags with a huge smile ever time he would hook into another big Alaskan fish!!! It was PRICELESS!!!!

Fishing tall tales, funny stories, and jokespage 2

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