I got a kick out of reading this article from the tribune this morning. Nothing better than a 10lb Walleye for dinner…lol I know it’s his right, but it’s still funny
BOB LAMB: ‘My walleye of a lifetime’
By BOB LAMB / Tribune Outdoors Editor
I know it’s hunting season, but I sure am looking forward to Monday. ADVERTISEMENT
I remember Sunday, Nov. 7, 2004, as if it were yesterday. It’s forever etched in my memory.
It was a cool morning. The temperature was 26 degrees. Roofs across the bay were covered with a thick layer of frost.
I got up, poured myself a cup of coffee, read the Trib, went to church and came home about 11:30 a.m.
It was a sunny day, although the mercury didn’t hit 53 degrees until later that afternoon.
I changed from my church-goin’ clothes into my fish-goin’ clothes. I grabbed my “lucky” fishing cap and a hooded sweatshirt and strolled toward the fridge.
“I see you’re going fishing,” my better half said.
“Yup,” I replied, grabbing a cold chicken thigh and heading out the sliding door.
I slipped on my knee-high boots, grabbed my fishing rod and munched on my cold chicken as I walked down to the river.
Maybe this was the day I would catch a big northern pike. With a little luck, there would be grilled fillets for supper.
A slight northerly breeze created a ripple on the water. The water was chilly, although the bright sunshine provided some warmth as I made a few casts with a silver blade bait attached to the end of new 10-pound test line.
My next cast was perfect. The blade bait smacked the surface of water about 25 yards away into a 20-foot hard bottom. I let the bait settle to the darkened depths of the bay.
The line went slack. I retrieved the bait slowly, then faster as the imitation minnow worked its way up the drop-off and onto a four-foot deep sandbar.
For some strange reason, I remember the sun glistening brightly off the water just when the pole was almost jerked from my hands.
“Wow. This is a good-sized northern,” I thought, frantically loosening the star drag as the fish raced for deeper water while realizing I didn’t bring my landing net with me.
I fought the fish for a good 10 minutes before reeling it into shallower water. It made one last getaway attempt before tiring.
“Yup, there will be northern for the grill tonight,” I muttered.
As I reeled the fish to within about 15 feet from shore, the dark silhouette looked fatter than a northern, although it was pretty long.
I stepped into the water, making sure I had good footing in the soft sand. That’s when my heart began thumping, just like it does when I see a big white-tailed buck or hear the thunderous gobbles from an approaching wild turkey.
Reaching into the clear water and pulling out “my walleye of a lifetime,” I backed onto shore ever so slowly. I knelt down and admired the fish.
She was big. She was beautiful. She was full of eggs that would produce more offspring in the future.
Unfortunately, the trophy fish was so hungry and hooked so deep, it wouldn’t survive.
It’s hard to describe the feelings of happiness and sadness that raced through my mind the next few minutes.
Then I recalled what my father, God rest his soul, said as he watched a teenage boy kneel over his first buck 40 years ago.
“All of God’s critters are here for a reason. Some live for another day. Others are meant to be shared with others.”
It was a special fish that would be saved for a special day. The 29½-inch, 9½-pound walleye and its rows of eggs provided a perfect pre-Thanksgiving Day meal for our family.
I’ll be down at the water just before noon on Monday. I’m not sure whether I’ll take my fishing pole, or just sit against the old maple tree and relive that special day one more time.
Bob Lamb can be reached at (608) 791-8228, or at [email protected]
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who keep large fish, but as mentioned “its legal”.