The Suburban Sportsman

Master versus Apprentice. It’s an archetype that spans literature, film and popular culture. From Darth Vader and Obi Wan Kenobi to Splinter and Shredder to U2 and Coldplay, all who teach are eventually pitted against their pupils. Recently, I faced such a circumstance with my long-time friend Josh.

Master (left) and Apprentice (right)

Josh, though he doesn’t look the part, is an avid angler and learned a large majority of the sport from myself during our many aquatic excursions throughout Illinois. Normally, he consults me on what lure to use and then applies the knowledge with remarkable deft.

However, 20 minutes into the first day on the water during our trip to Duck Lake, of Wisconsin’s Eagle River Chain, Josh challenged my alpha status.

“This lure’s gonna kick your ass,” Josh said smugly as he removed his new Rapala Flat Rap from it’s packaging. “Just watch.”

I ignored Josh’s remark; he always said crap like that when he was feeling even remotely confident in a fishing decision he’d made. And since we were on a lake we had never fished before, I figured I’d remain quiet and let him have his moment.

That mentality lasted for all of five seconds.

In an act of silent rebellion, I began moving the boat into a position that made it tough for him to work the downed-timber along the shoreline.

Just as my diabolic plot to skunk Josh’s infallible lure was unfolding, I caught him setting the hook out of the corner of my eye.

“Muskie!” yelled Josh.

“Bastard,” I thought, and reluctantly grabbed the net.

As Josh brought the fish to the boat, I netted the normally elusive predator and stared at its gold and opaque-blue hue. This was a gorgeous animal, not that large, but still gorgeous.

“Ha,” Josh said, breaking my trance. “First cast. Right out of the package!”

Cole and Jake, who comprised the other half of our fishing fellowship, laughed at the audacity of the situation. This only intensified Josh’s smugness. He was ripe to tear me a new one if I didn’t do something quick.

(Luckily, I subscribe to the master/apprentice archetype, and like all good teachers, I don’t show my students everything I know)

I reached into my tackle box and pulled out my ace-in-the hole, my force-lightning if you will…The Lucky Craft pointer, the Ferrari of jerkbaits

“Josh, you defeated me, and I became more powerful than you could ever imagine,” I felt like saying, as I tied the lure on.

“Watch this,” I retorted instead, and casted the jerkbait, admiring its action as it irradically made its way through the water.

However, as the lure got closer to the boat, my heart sank. Nothing trailed my bait. And as I lifted the immaculate lure out of the water…A MUSKIE NAILED IT.

I WAS AMAZED AT THE STRIKE….and at the fact that I had missed the fish. Josh laughed, secure in his victory.

This scene would become familiar throughout our 3-day excursion in the Northwoods, although the actors would rotate between Josh, Cole, Jake and myself. 14 musky were caught between the 4 of us (8 for me, 5 for Josh), all while fishing for walleye, smallmouth and largemouth. They hit on plastics, jerkbaits, jigs and crankbaits. For 72 hours we were spoiled, and it was bliss.

Josh nows kicks my ass on a regular basis

Though I eventually won the war, Josh won that battle and it stills stings. However, I take solace in knowing that his passion for fishing is blossoming and hopefully he will pass it on to others, just as I passed it on to him. Because really, this relationship is all fishermen have to retain our sport. Lakes are shrinking, suburbs are growing and the aura of the outdoors is fading.

So teach your friends and family to fish, just don’t teach them everything. And Josh, I bought one of those Flat Raps and can’t catch shit on the stupid thing.

Like so many other life pursuits, fish-catching prowess isn’t limited as much by talent as it is by access. Got a boat? Then chances are you’ve got a better shot at catching a trophy than someone fishing from shore. However, several times a year, fish behavior negates this hierarchical structure, creating more chances for the proletariat angler. As ice vacates the small lakes and ponds of central and northern Illinois, one of these egalitarian opportunities emerges.

Game fish, drawn by the energy reserves of warmer water and an abundance of baitfish, migrate towards shallow bays and springs. While in these skinner-water haunts, bass, pike and panfish use their increasing energy reserves to feed, their behavior slowly altering from opportunistic eating, to actively pursuing calorie-rich meals. Although they are not feeding at pre-spawn levels, this increase in game-fish activity is still significant. Additionally, since most of these changes occur in shallow water, shore anglers can easily capitalize them. The following two-stage presentation is an efficient way to make this most of this Spring feeding period.

Begin by analyzing your pond or lake.  You are looking for large, shallow bays with a few primary elements:

1. Easy shore access. There is no point identifying a spot you cannot fish.
2. Quick access to deep water (a good feature of any fishing spot)
3. Isolated structure (logs, weeds, rocks)
4. A stream or creek flowing into the bay

key on areas close to deep water, or with an incoming creek or stream

After deciding upon on a location, start probing for productive water. The simplest way to do this from shore is with a search-lure. Typically fast moving, hard-body crankbaits, search-lures allow you to cover lots of water, gauge depth and identify bottom structure without use of a depth finder. My search-lure of choice for this time of year is the lipless crankbait. Their ability to be fished with a steady retrieve or swam erratically makes them ideal for ice-off fishing.*

When using a search-bait to eliminate water, you should opt for a quicker retrieve. However, once you catch a fish, flutter the bait on your next few casts. This will often entice skeptical fish to strike.

Continue working the bay with your search-bait, making mental notes of where you caught the most fish. I refer to these locations as “key areas”, essentially spots within a spot (a rock-pile, a pocket or  the elbow of a point).

Once you’ve covered the whole bay thoroughly with a search lure, return to your key areas with vertical-pattern bait (sinking plastics, shakey heads and jig-n-pigs all work brilliantly). Working each area precisely with these lures will help you pick up any fish who were too lethargic for your faster presentation. Remember, any remaining fishing likely have a small strike zone and won’t hit anything more than a few inches from their mouth.

After both these passes are over, consider the bay vacant and move onto the next. Remember, fish feeding patterns vary greatly lake-to-lake and even from bay-to-bay. Fish may be active in one area and absent in another, so don’t waste time chasing fish that aren’t biting. Keep it simply, effective and concise and I guarantee this ice-off pattern will result in success early-season excursions.

*There are several varieties of lipless baits, but the Strike King Red Eye Shad stands above the rest. It has a wider wobble than the Clackin’ Rap and falls slower than a Rat-L-Trap, resulting in the broadest variety of presentations. Also, I always replace the factory treble hooks on my Red Eye Shads with high-end hooks such as Gamakatsu or VMC.

Flatlander.

My college roommate, Zach Lawson, first introduced me to the term. Apparently a derogatory word, “flatlander” is used to describe yuppie, weekend warriors from Illinois who supposedly rape and pillage Wisconsin’s lakes and rivers. My first reaction to the expression was laughter. Flatlander, really?!? I never knew Wisconsin was overrun with mountains?

My humor transitioned into disbelief as I found out that the people who hated Illinois the most,were those in area’s dependent on Illinois tourist dollars. (Sorry for the economic boosts, Door County, Rhinelander and Minocqua)

However, attempts to rationalize my new label merely manifested more malice. I soon realized flatlander is a scarlet letter amongst Midwestern anglers, and bore the cross at my weekly fishing-team meetings as well as at every bass tournament I ever fished in. My Illinois plates were bulls-eyes for those yearning to unleash their geographical prejudices.

“Go back to your corn!”

“If it wasn’t for Chicago, Illinois wouldn’t even be a state!”

“I’m surprised you’re not using a Zebco!”

Their words were like salt rubbed in an already gaping wound.

Somehow, I persevered, and am now living amongst my former tormentors. A flatlander disguised as a cheesehead.

Several years later, I have learned to embrace the flatlander tag. It is no longer a catalyst for discomfort, but a reminder of the things that make the Illinois outdoors experience fantastic. We have arguably the nation’s best Canadian goose hunting. Southwestern Illinois is home of one of two “golden triangles” of whitetail deer. And my personal favorite, Illinois has year-round fishing on most bodies of water.

The latter of these reasons is particularly pertinent as we transition into spring. While my Wisconsin friends must either wait until May, or head to the nearest river to pursue game fish, I can hit the shores of my favorite lake to chase whatever species I desire.

So rather than suffering under my flatlander nomenclature, I’m going to seize the angling opportunity Illinois’ laissez-faire legislation presents and partake in ice-off fishing. Cheers to Illinois!

An urbanite friend recently asked, “What draws me to fishing?” His sarcastic tone indicated this inquiry was posed not only to get an answer, but also to allow him to illustrate how stupid he thought fishing was.

Seeing as I’ve answered this question hundreds of times, often asked to me by customers’ wives and girlfriends while working at Dave’s Bait and Tackle, I fielded a response quickly.

“Have you ever heard of monumentalism?” I returned. He looked confused, apparently not expecting my reply to include words other than “beer” and “fish”.

“No man, I haven’t,” he answered, a little put-off by the intellectual face-plant he just endured.

I explained to him that monumentalism is the belief that the beauty of the natural world surpasses anything created by man. Understanding architecture and art may make you more cultured, but being attuned with untamed wilderness connects you with the divine. To anglers, lakes are cathedrals. Muskies replace Matisses’. Fishing allows us the opportunity to enjoy wilderness without cultural filters. I can reach into a non-terrestrial world, and through my understanding of it, I am able to succeed. That is what draws me to fishing.

I smiled. I knew I had him. How can you argue with that answer? Game, set and match to the fisherman…

“Ice fishing.” He replied bluntly. “It’s winter. What draws you to ICE fishing?”

“Shit!” I thought to myself. This poses a much more complex issue. That momumentalism stuff is great reasoning during open-water, but ice fishing is another monster. I don’t disconnect from the modern world when I’m ice fishing. In fact, I do the exact opposite. I invest a lot of time and money to ensure that my ice excursions have all the conveniences of home.

Let’s see….

Digital Camera, check.

GPS, check.

Depth-finder, check.

Aqua-view, check.

Lantern, check.

Grill, check?

Generator??

Television?!?

I found myself in a panic. How could I let myself be stumped by a guy whose most masculine hobby is soccer? I quickly ran through my options, but nothing of any substance came to mind. Then I realized, nothing should come to mind.

Why does ice fishing need to have some deeper meaning? I just like doing it. I know it’s impractical, I know it looks ridiculous but I enjoy it. I can talk to my friends in the most unpretentious atmosphere possible and not worry about the repercussions of my uncensored thoughts. I can drink a Bud Light while simultaneously smoking a cigar and no one cares. It may not get me closer towards enlightenment, but ice fishing allows me to be me, unfiltered.

So to get back to his question of “What draws me to ice-fishing?”

“Beer and fish,” I finally answered. “Beer and fish.”

The word fishermen brings to mind many adjectives – patient, persistent and rugged to name a few. However, I would argue that the defining trait all successful anglers share is sympathy.

Now countless girlfriends and wives may disagree, but allow me to rationalize…

A fishing trip’s outcome hinges on the angler’s ability to relate to his prey’s physical and mental state. For instance, on a windy day, a sub-par fishermen might head towards a sheltered shoreline or bay because it makes boat and lure control substantially easier. This decision is based on selfish motives and will ultimate lead towards failure.

In contrast, the sympathetic  angler realizes that wind makes a fish’s life much easier, concentrating bait into key locations, resulting in near effortless hunting. This person inconveniences himself, and is rewarded for the effort.

Many anglers enjoy taking this emotional investment further, striving for an empathetic relationship with fish. This selfless mentality is most apparent around the holidays.

During this time, plummeting water temperatures force fish to overhaul their feeding strategies. They pursue slow moving prey to ensure that their calorie expenditure does not exceed the caloric value of the food they ingest (packing on the pounds, essentially). This behavior is often accompanied by fish retreating to their favorite wintering holes. Fishermen simulate these conditions by lounging on couches and gorging themselves on meals prepared by reluctant relatives and spouses. And while the casual viewer may interpret this as gluttonous, it is actually something much deeper.

Despite this obvious altruism and depth, fishermen remain stereotyped as emotionally, well….vacant. Shallow pools of feelings where love means a cold beer and commitment is using the same lure for at least an hour. But in my mind, nothing could be further from the truth.