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Opening morning of the
tournament found us navigating the boat down a shallow, dead-head
choked creek towards High Lake. The prop-gouged sunken timbers below
the channel's surface bore testament to the passage of diehard musky
fisherman who had ventured through to probe the High and Fishtrap
Lakes' waters before. A gentle breeze carried upon it the mournful
cries of loons in the early-morning light. As we entered the lake,
crystal clear water greeted us and a pristine birch, pine, and
tamarack studded shoreline surrounded us. The scenery alone was worth
the trip.
All morning we flogged the water. By noon we were glad to rendezvous
at the mandatory midday check-in point. Only one fish had been caught
so far, a 28 incher that Jim Jessup had quickly released after
measurement. Camaraderie dominated the hearty shore lunch and fish
check-in ritual, but the underlying competitive tone was also
apparent. As soon as the rest period was completed, the musky hunters
took to their boats and disappeared across the lake once again.
Everyone but Dale Peterson, that is. Dale headed to a wedding in his
musky fishing clothes, lures dangling from his hat and all.
Dave Justmann and his partner, both first-timers, borrowed Dale's boat
for the afternoon. Hidden deep within Dale's well-organized storage
compartments, the pair found a marked-up secret map of all Dale's
musky hotspots on Palmer Lake. They headed straight there, borrowing
Dale's rods and tackle that were so conveniently found inside the boat
Dale lent them. Once on the water, they tried without success just
about every lure in the top tray of Dale's tackle box. Then Dave
noticed one concealed near the bottom: a chartreuse Jaz-Ma-Taz
prototype hand-crafted by Dale.
As the fishermen drifted over the musky weeds in seven feet of water,
Dave felt a strike and soon boated a 20 incher. Seven minutes later,
Dave's "first legal", a 34 incher slammed the bucktail. The 'lunge
rocketed out of the water trying to shake the lure loose, but was soon
netted, measured, and released.
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A few casts later,
Dave spotted a torpedo headed directly at the boat in hot pursuit of
Dale's secret prototype. Both anglers figure-eighted their bucktails
in front of the mid-thirty-inch musky as it stalled out at boatside.
This wise old fish had seen all this before and knew better. It just
stopped, smugly sank into the depths, and disappeared. The weather was
changing. The clear blue sky was giving way to dark, ominous rain
clouds. The pair decided to Wildcat.
At the boat ramp, they
met up with two of the other contestants, Mark Jacobs and Gordie Shaw.
They'd not even had so much as a follow yet. Dave told them of his
good fortune of catching two already and seeing a third. Painful
disbelief was written all over their faces. They'd heard before the
tournament had begun that Dave was on a lucky streak, having won the
kitty at the Darl-Inn, and now this was just too much.
Well, standing there at the boat landing feeling genuinely lucky, and
feeling sympathetic towards Mark, Dave held out his hand and said
"Here, let me shake your hand to pass you some good luck." Then Mark
and Gordie headed out onto the lake. As soon as Mark's walleye-colored
Reef Hawg hit the water's surface, a musky clobbered it. The musky
taped 29 inches and Mark was now destined to take third place in the
final tournament standings.
The next morning the cafe was abuzz with fish stories and muffled talk
of strategies for the upcoming final hours of the contest. Some
entrants had opted to forego the meal, catch a little extra sleep, and
head directly to the lake. Two such entrants were Jim Jessup and Bill
Harvey. Their strategy paid off. The partners were casting into a
shallow, weedy bay when Jim tied into a 31 incher with a six-inch
prism Grandma bait. The fish made a terrific run and leapt out the
water twice before Bill was able to net it, securing second place. The
hooks were so deeply imbedded in its mouth that Jim cut them all off. |