Chequamegon Bay Smallmouth, Ashland Wi

Do you dream of that special fishing trip?

Where the strikes are so powerful that you think they could rip the rod out of your hand?

Where each fish makes repeated short drag screaming runs?

Where head shakes are so physically powerful that you can hardly believe a fish could be that strong?

I do.

Chequamegon Bay near Ashland, Wisconsin is where my dream takes place. Giant smallmouth bass are what bring my dream to life. Early summer each year, the smallmouth make their way to areas of the bay to spawn. This, in turn, brings plenty of anglers, chasing some of the biggest smallmouth bass they will ever catch.

On this trip, I had the pleasure of sharing a boat with IDO staff member Mike Finke. Mike and I have shared plenty of information about lakes we both fish through the private messaging system that only IDO members can use. This trip all started with a PM.
Mike and I arrived at the “bay” about 10 A.M. and after unloading Mike’s Skeeter, we headed to one of my GPS spots to see if these bass were starting to head shallow yet. As we eased into the shallow water, I stood on the front deck scanning the water for cruising smallies. While I did want to see some cruising fish, what I really wanted to see was bedding fish. Within minutes, I spotted a small group of beds and as Mike idled the boat with a big Yamaha motor closer, I started to see bass sitting on these beds. I signaled Mike to shut off the main motor as we wanted to get close yet not spook these fish. Shallow bedding bass can get a severe case of lock jaw if they are on high alert from angling pressure.
I made the first cast, not wanting to let Mike get the first fish, as I figured that once he started catching fish I would have a hard time keeping up. My cast hit its mark and I eased the sweet beaver rigged on a 2/0 hook with a 1/8 ounce weight into the bed; I could see the smallie slide over to investigate what just entered her bed. I watched the bass open her mouth and flare her gills; I felt a tick and I set the hook. I experienced her weight for a split second and then she came unbuttoned. After a few choice words I reeled in and fired off another cast. This cast also hits its mark and before the bait sank to the bottom I felt a strike as powerful as any strike I have ever encountered. I snapped my wrist and the battle was on. Rod bending, drag screaming runs and authoritative headshakes, this fish was giving me everything that I dreamed of. When I finally got her to the boat and saw that she stretched the tape measure to 20.5 inches, I thought, “Not bad for the first fish of the day.” Mike was throwing a weightless 5-inch stickbait, one of his favorite ways to fish. The slow subtle shimmy of the stickbait was way too much for the smallie that Mike’s cast landed near. With a hookset so authoritative that most guys would be lucky to keep both feet planted on the deck, the clash started. Mike gave out a small chuckle as he stuck the rod butt in his stomach to get some more leverage to battle his fish. Looking over his shoulder Mike smiled and said, “I love fighting a fish where I have to do that.” Mike’s first fish taped out at 19+ inches.

We fished this area for awhile and then headed out to find other areas that held fish. Our next stop was a deeper area where you could not see the bottom or beds, but contained a ton of sunken wood. We both threw lightly-weighted stickbaits and slowly worked them around the wood. The strikes varied from bone jarring to having a slight extra weight as you lifted your rod. Yet the fight was always constant; scrappy and never ending.
We felt the need to relocate again, this time we decided to head to a different area that has much more stained water. With this move I got to learn some things from Mike about swimjigs, a lure that I did not have much experience using. Mike found an area where the smallies were willing to chase a bait and immediately started throwing a swimjig rigged with a 4 inch curly tail. In the stained water, the large profile along with a subtle thump really got the attention of these fish. Mike put on a clinic catching numerous 18-19 inch fish while I tried other things that I thought would work. I finally conceded and tied on a swimbait. I am glad I did as I caught the biggest smallie of our trip while using it, a 20.75 sumo. While we never really found the monster-sized smallies we were looking for, Mike and I managed to catch fish at almost every spot we tried until the wind started blowing and we decided to call it quits.

I had a blast on this trip and would like to thank Mike Finke for joining me as well as teaching me a few tricks about other fishing techniques.
Now that I’m freshly home from this trip, the memory is a good substitute for my dream. I can still feel the sun on my skin, the gentle rocking of the boat, and laughter shared among friends, not to mention the action of the fish. I wonder where my next fishing dream will take me? A better question yet is where will your dream take you?

Ron