 |  |  |  |  |
Kieper-Time
| IN THE ZONE OUTDOORSTM |
| Tangled Up In Goo Scott Kieper AS SUBMITTED PRIOR TO PUBLICATION Musky Hunter August/September 2008 The ultimate predator. A machine in many ways. Cold and emotionless. Remaining so even in that moment of aggression. Programmed by evolution to carry out the most basic of functions, it knows not much more than nature’s laws of predation. Do not be consumed before climbing far enough up the food chain to become the consumer. Consume more than expend. As hunters of a hunter, we make every best effort to get inside the predator’s head. If we can only get past the teeth and inside that control center, we just might gain an edge. That’s right, it’s the chase that drives us mad. We may momentarily return to our senses in the glory of capture. Only to return willingly to insanity’s brink, a heartbeat after watching those red fins wave away into the abyss. Some days we’ve all wondered, is it more about gaining a few seconds piece of mind or is it still about the fish? Many of the best musky anglers I know have one thing, if not much else in common. A firm belief that the first time you let yourself believe you have the answer, you’ve just given the edge back to the fish. Why is this? Simple. Cold-blooded critters, highly susceptible to drastic lifestyle changes at the slightest of environmental shifts. And it is certainly a game where averages are dictated by ability to hit the curve-balls and change-ups we’re so often pitched. The key to consistency is focus. However, it’s where focus is directed that equates to ultimate success. In my boat that means targeting metabolism first and fish second. It’s the machine’s greatest weakness. It has to live. It’s evolutionary track long conditioned to environmental forces that take it from binge-feeding to fasting and back again. A glorious jig-saw puzzle of factors unique to each individual system they inhabit. Sixth grade science, really. Cold-blooded biology. We all know it. Yet, so often a simple biology lesson becomes a dilemma of rocket science as we head back to the landing, tail between legs, scratching our heads. Yes. Ma Nature CAN be cruel. Remember that above all else. Some days, by their design, work to simply suppress metabolism. Just as some days work to our advantage. Metabolic Madness Determine how to use a musky’s metabolism against it. Fish in any system have periods throughout each season in which feeding activity either is, or appears to be peaking. I see two parts of season. The feeding season. And the finesse season, or the cooler water book-ends at the end and beginning. Feeding season means only knowing where in a given system the fish are living. This is the period of peak metabolism. I typically place this in northern Wisconsin between the last week in May during a warm spring through mid- October or turn-over, varying slightly in each system. With the exception of the shallowest systems, the fish, especially the large ones, move from shallow water to the deeps and back in, again. They are feeding the entire time, relative to changes in environmental conditions. During that feeding season there is, however, a time-frame that I would say I like best. I’m not the only one. Anyone in pursuit of northern Wisconsin musky looks forward to the fall cool-down and feeding event. Heck, I know anglers who proudly boast they won’t even get their hull wet until September. The musky are fat. You know, from the magic musky fairy and that fat magic. Hate to think they’ve been out there in deeper water gorging for the last 2 months of season, or something like that. Fall needs to be looked at in much greater detail when hunting for weed-bound Wisconsin giants. And while I have a fondness for fishing deep baits on deep gin, this is one stretch of the season where I like my water thin. This is the time-frame that I would classify as metabolic shift. The fourth week of August is a common week to witness the transition. From here through turn-over, big fish seem to follow a certain shallow groove. There are places to look and times to be there. Predictable to the a degree. Metabolism sees to it. Day-light hours are as much a factor as decreasing water temperatures. Fish will stage in areas that provide the correct combination of food and heat. The heat in these areas is not only encouraging the biological urges to feed but prompting a much greater rate of digestion. It literally turns a musky into a forage processing plant. This is when you usually spend time soaking up some carpet strewn musky droppings. The combination of factors signals the inevitable, slightly over a month until metabolic processes again begin to descend. Just following the program, biology at the helm. So what does this mean for the angler? Get bit. Get bit big. Get bit often. And although there are many locations on many systems where this can occur, metabolic strategy will inevitably pay off. What I concentrate on during this time-frame are “stack-factors”. Most systems will contain the correct combination of factors to contribute to this effect, but the best have some interesting connections. Dense, dark, weed-mats with good forage proximity are a standard necessity to my best of best bites during the “shift”. It must be miserable to fish. Blades spin as much as they don’t spin, and Shallow Magnum Bull-Dawgs will more often than not, come back with algae covered coon-tail dread-locks on their heads. And the fish, big ones, are there. Locked up in that mess. There for reasons beyond anything they understand. There to be caught by keeping in mind some sixth grade science. Coon-tail It makes me shudder to just think of it. Rod-tips higher than you like for a good first set, baits skipping out of the water in efforts to remain presentable, and the look from first-timers to the technique. Coon-tail. Nasty. One giant heat-trap. In many of the best locations it has become filamentous algae soup, turned stagnant in the mid- summer heat. One look leaves confusion at how or why anything would choose to live in such a mess. Hardly even vegetation at this point. My favorite lakes and spots with the correct attributes take on affectionate pet- names such as Lake Scum, Swamp Pit, and What’s That Smell. I also prefer the systems that have a relatively good population of quality fish. Voluntary torture? The main reason is for the chances you can accumulate if your timing is right. 70-72 degrees surface temps consistent will usually initiate the change and once these fish hit the coon-tail it’s all about the belly. Fill and empty. Urgency is the best word I can use to describe to the onset of this bite. The trick is to isolate the best range within the coon-tail at which the fish are stacking up. At the beginning of this run the fish tend to hold to the outer rim and I will often place the boat where the baits will land ten to fifteen yards into the mats. On systems where coon-tail provides fishable features, 9-10 feet is a common running depth, the best mats lying in 4-8 feet. I have also found that this bite best develops on systems where other vegetation is either secondary or completely consumed by the coon. Fish on systems with predominant cabbage vegetation will also be returning to check out the outer weed edges. However, where coon-tail provides the dominant mass, it becomes a metabolic catalyst. The dark mats work to trap heat value on a daily basis. These fish are that much more active that much more often. In late August through early September, I’m contacting most fish on points or outer edges adjacent to the deep water summer hang-outs where days earlier we had been catching them. Essentially, they will begin to venture further into the mats and back areas as water temps continue to descend. Small shallow humps with heavy coon-tail, if available, are also a must at this stage of the game. If they are relatively close to shore-line larger mats, that much better. These are the few weeks in which I push myself to the limits. Once the giants hit these spots, it can become nothing short of frenzy. It is literally one elongated window of opportunity. Last season in 11 days during this stretch, clients and myself released 34 fish. We fished six different lakes containing the correct coon-tail placement for the time-frame. Of the fish, 12 topped 45 inches with several 48's, a 49 ½, and a huge 52 topping out the list. One client, in 2 ½ days released 9 fish measuring, 49 ½, 47 ½, 46, 45, two 44's, 42, 38, 361/2, and a bonus 44 inch pike. That doesn’t include my fish from the same days. There were days in that stretch where we didn’t boat any fish but there were numerous days where multiple fish over 45 inches were boated. Not to mention the several leviathans lost. Any time of the day or night is fine by me. This is also the one time of season where I won’t pull off a giant and wait for a low-light, moon, or barometric window of opportunity. If a fish comes out of the coon-tail looking like it’ s hungry, it’s hungry. If anything, it likely came from the outer rim and didn’t have enough time to properly orient on, or make a decision regarding the bait. The other near opportunity will be the explosion that misses its target. I’ll give these fish several minutes to settle down and then re-present the baits. Doubling up on a lure that proved itself appealing is always a good option. Smart, old, Wisconsin hawgs just don’t show up on anything. As the heart-rates are declining from the first near-opportunity, take time to survey if there was a specific pocket or gap in the mat that may have been the giant’s retreat. I will typically back off a couple feet in case the fish is edge holding. Depending on how rapidly the water temps cool, these spots will remain consistent producers. As we begin to breach mid-September, things have typically cooled enough to draw the fish into even thicker cover, 4-6 feet, in last-ditch efforts to continue the metabolic blitz-kreig. These regions become even more demanding to fish. Patience. We be getting to that. They’ll be seeking the greatest amount of heat retention they can acquire. Bays that weeks earlier had remained relatively unproductive begin to produce. In their final effort to process food, many of the largest fish we run into will be in 3-4 feet of water at the on-set of turn-over. Much like the water temps, feeding activity will have begun to decrease, demanding some changes in technique. Slowing down is often necessary. Not always easy when fishing solid goo. Does it matter though? Knowing which fish are most likely to be most active, is that never-ending game of attempting to “get in the head” that we all love to do. Metabolism is the key to doing so. Really, no matter what we’re discussing, it’s metabolically based. That nasty mat of coon-tail, just happens to represent a powerful ally. It can make a wise old giant its own worst enemy. Dead-Lock in the Dread-locks It requires a fairly specific arsenal to attack these areas. Not just any lure will make it through the inches of workable water. There’s also that little issue of coverage. Lures in the coon don’t reach lateral lines as well. Technique and boat speed need to be modified accordingly. While everything about this bite would inspire the angler to cover water quickly, this is a location in which I like to slow down. The dense canopy inhibits the distance to which fish can and will respond. So, how does one slow down when the vegetation screams for a bait to be burned. First, is a long rod. Keeping a rod tip high is only a matter of length. The longer the rod, the lesser the incline angle necessary. Vise-versa. You can both crank slower and set better with the longer rod. I prefer an 8'6" Medium/Heavy or Heavy action Musky Innovation’s rod. Not only are these rods designed for the biggest tests, they are light enough to be held in front of the body for necessary technique endurance. Second, slowing down goes beyond just retrieval speed. Boat speed needs to compensate the thickness of the mat. Tighten up the distance between baits to ensure thorough coverage. Although an occasional fish will push a wake twenty feet to track your moving object, most strikes are reactionary. Fish will blow up within a ten foot radius of where they were sitting. My basic request of people on my deck is first person pick your cast. Second person, plant it 15 feet behind that. Third, if present, continue to pick it apart with the same gap. This allows for maximum water coverage in the mess. Where weeks ago in deep water, forty feet may have separated casts, this is the time to really strain. Third is presentation. This is a time when fish are feeding large. Especially big fish. Probably one of the best ways to stay above the goo is those far too popular double number tens. While there are many on the market these days, my home-town fish seem to have a home-town preference. Shumway Giant Flashers and Little Giants provide plenty of lift, lateral-line contact, and sinuous boo-billow to draw violent reactions out of Northern Wisconsin monsters. Last season we boated three over 50 inches, and numerous other top-end fish on Giant Flashers, all tied up in coon-tail. One of my other favorite aspects of the Shumway arsenal is a little tid-bit of historical trivia. Although there has been a bunch of controversy over the originator and who’s due credit for the # 10's, it goes to Bruce Shumway. Bruce brought them back and presented them to the industry after an Alaskan King Salmon adventure. His intrigue led to the introduction of the Jumboo in 1987, far ahead of its time and the competition. In hind-sight, I’m kind of glad the craze waited. I would have just been getting big enough to crank it. Next in line for clearing a path is what I consider to be one of the most under-utilized tools on the market. For some reason, Musky Innovation’s Bull-Dawgs are not looked upon as a shallow water option by all anglers. Nothing is more enticing than a Shallow Magnum Dawg up-twitched rapidly. The bait can remain almost neutrally buoyant at whatever depth it is being focused. The rapid twitches simulate an injured presentation, too easy to be resisted. I like to get some attention in the dark mats, so a bright color or a least a light-toned belly, is often preferential. Adding to the arsenal of coon-hunting Bulldawgs this year are the Heli-Dawg line- up. Although the chunk of rubber displaces enough water to draw significant attention, the blade addition has already more than proven its potential. And last but not least from Musky Innovations for this situation is the Shallow Invader. A straight steady crank with the rod-tip slightly lifted will keep the bait relatively clean in the thickest. The wide tail wobble and life-like appearance will take care of the rest. Where would an active shallow water bite be without some top-water explosions? And thank goodness coon- bound behemoths love them. If we’re hunting big fish, might as well have a bait on that could take a blast from a Sherman tank. That means reaching for American Hardwoods. The Giant Klunker is a two segmented crawl bait with a wide tail cadence and pronounced joint clack. Both attributes work well for drawing attention. If water conditions are flat and barometric conditions favorable, it’s a go-to option. With a little chop, I like the Two-Timer. This double-tail bait has all the love of the original Lac Seul Mini-Mag series, with twice the tail. The extra plop allows the lure to be slowed down while retaining an aggressive tail-bait nature. Since we’re talking top-waters, there’s one inter-related topic to briefly cover. As we all know, as much as musky like to hit top-waters, they like to miss them. This goes for everything in the coon-tail. The rule in coon is if you don’t get hit, don’t hit back. I’ve watched fish come completely unglued after missing a lure. The most I’ ve witnessed is five strikes on one retrieve. Whether it was a blind fish or a trigger-happy angler is three years later, still being debated. Bottom line, if you don’t take it away, they will often likely take it again. This is all about aggression. Metabolic teeth slashing fun. Picking apart coon-tail as an option will never be the easiest technique but believe me, it gets easier with each chomp. Like everything else, it takes a little practice. Keep your eyes open as you move around. I’m opening up new bites and lake options every season where this works. A machine can only do what it’s programmed to do. Think back to that sixth grade science and use it as a tool. Hunt metabolism. Pick on fish that you know will be on the prowl. Use the metabolic shift to its maximum potential. See if you have the instinct and training to be a good coon hound. Scott Kieper is a full-time guide in the Hayward area of Northwest Wisconsin. He can be reached at 715-865- MSKE (6753) or 715-216-0664. Deep Greens & Submarines Scott Kieper AS SUBMITTED PRIOR TO PUBLICATION in Musky Hunter Magazine June/July 2008 Weeds. Vegetation of all various types. Green cabbage, red cabbage, frilly-leafs, coon-tail, reeds, lily-pads, emergent grasses, and even the scourge, milfoil, all present themselves as a target in their respective locations to musky anglers throughout the course of a season. Musky like weeds. In turn, musky anglers like weeds. But what is vegetation to a musky? It provides cover and protection to juvenile fish and security at maturity. It provides sanctuary for an array of forage. At times of the season and in specific situations it can retain temperature and directly affect metabolism. In short, there is a direct correlation between vegetation and the annual biological tick-tock of a musky. And when we are speaking respectively of large fish, their needs for the weeds are considerably different than the other beasts. As a full-time guide in Northwest Wisconsin, I see no shortage of “beating the weeds”. Most boats, 90 % or better, are always somewhere in contact with some type of vegetation. Not a bad place to be. For the first 2-3 weeks of season myself and clients will usually be in somewhat similar proximity. However, once that graph gives me a consistent 72 plus in surface degrees, I begin sneaking a peak at what I call the forgettable greens. These are the weeds that grow beyond the traditional weed lines of 8-14 feet. These are the vegetations of the deeps. And for a significant portion of my season I will focus on lakes or systems exclusively that possess this deep green quality. Conquering Clarity Part of competing in this arena is to give up notions of clear water difficulty. Clear water musky are still musky with bellies and big teeth. The myth of clear water difficulty is directly tied to traditional norms in angling technique. These waters have the reputation of being better in the fall or on cloudy days. They have fish that show but rarely eat. Oh, and they often have reputations of producing some of the biggest submarines. The bottom line is that musky lures need to be present where big fish feed. In my boat that means three things; gin clarity, deep basins, and structure at depth beyond 18 feet. I rarely get bit big on clear water from mid-June through early September when my lure is presented in water any less than 18 feet. Big fish live deep. Increase the clarity and increase the depth to which they will retreat. Unfortunately, it seems that for many anglers the comfort zone of traditional technique supercedes much desire to explore these regions. Those with whom I speak see it as a structure-free void in which the haystack consumes the needle. But what about the zone between traditional weed edges and the deeps? Are there structural characteristics many anglers look at but never take the time to see? This past season in Northwest Wisconsin myself and clients teamed up to release 221 fish, the majority of which came from “the deeps”. Of these, nine topped the magical fifty inch mark and of those, six came from structure in depths of 18-28 feet. On some of these systems, I will go weeks and sometimes entire seasons without seeing another lure presented to the locations where we catch these beasts. And those are just the “over- fifties”. An over-whelming majority of the top-end musky put in my net each season are coming from secondary structures and the immediate periphery. Again, on these waters I feel neither comfortable nor confident if my baits are landing in any less than seventeen feet of water for most of season. Yet an over-whelming number of musky anglers seem hesitant to explore this uncharted territory. Success cannot be measured by seeing is believing. Many more fish make their way onto the hooks in deep water that we ever see. So, if follows are a measure of success for some, this may not be their game. While curious fish will check you out, a boat-side strike is a hundred times more likely to be that missile unseen. These fish move out there to eat. They move out there to find metabolic comfort zones to accommodate the increased heat saturation of summer. They move out there to avoid contact with you and me. And on my best mid-summer systems, they move out there because they like weeds. Established previously. Oddly enough. I believe a large musky’s favorite weeds are the vegetation that relatively few anglers are even fishing. It’s certainly nothing special. Whispy. Frail. Thin. Indiscernible leaves. By all accounts, junk visually. Most of it lives so deep it appears chlorophyll deficient and only light green. Sometimes it’s so thin the graph can’t detect it physically. But it’s there and being utilized by giants continuously after surface temperature surpass 72 degrees. Makes a bit more sense, that timeless fable of they must lose their teeth. Historical big-fish capture records in Wisconsin also reveal the summer stretch to be the “down-time”. Even to this day, very few large fish captures locally are brought to my attention during the summer months of season. My own results couldn’t be any more opposing. I don’t think there is a better time or place to catch a Wisconsin giant than the summer-months from deep water. Basic cold-blooded physical biology. While the traditional attitude has been to hunt big fish in northern Wisconsin in the fall because they are at their peek feeding activity, I would argue that this is the time-frame in which feeding is on the decrease. Those fish sure look sweet with that big, fall, fat bag, but it didn’t get there over-night. It got there from an entire summer of binge- feeding. Cold-blooded biology. It dictates that when a cold-blooded animal is at it’s warmest in it’s environment it will most actively metabolize and feed. In some systems, it means fishing for basin-suspended musky, but on my best bites, it means picking apart secondary structures carpeted by mats of deep greens. Sand Grasses As mentioned, this vegetation is nothing to impress the eye physically. Or is it? This depends on the particular system and how it was positioned prior to reaching your hand. Like most aquatic weed-growth, once top-side it hangs limp, quite lifelessly. However, that ever-powerful presence the sun, lack of foliage, gin-clarity, and naturally developed tissues for buoyancy allow for even these deep dwellers to climb upward. Don’t expect to find this vegetation in all clear-water systems, by any stretch of the imagination or in consistent degrees. In fact, it could be argued that no other vegetation more greatly adapts itself to its particular physical location. It some systems, vast mats will develop on secondary flats and aprons in 18-24 feet, covering acres and acres of water. In systems with steeper secondary breaks this zone may consist of only a rim-line several feet to yards wide. Above all, physical characteristics will vary greater on individual clarity of the specific water. Another influence will be the amount of viable secondary substrate conducive to adequate plant survival. Depths to which these substrates descend will also dictate the breadth of possible sand-grass zones. And also factoring in will be weather trends throughout the spring and early summer either jump-starting or inhibiting the potential of these deep greens. It’s easiest to discuss fishing this secondary weed growth by breaking it into two groupings. Systems that possess the aforementioned broad flats and aprons, versus those with the steeper breaks. Note that many systems do possess both physical characteristics and that clarity variables will influence growth potential at depth. Locating these deep weeds is the first challenge and next is determining consistency. Lets’s start with those steep breaks since these lines of growth will typically be thinner in dimension across, more difficult to isolate, and yet no less appealing. This is what I refer to as the wall. On the systems where the wall is a prevalent feature, I often find long stretches of unfished structure. Most anglers are targeting obvious bays, weed beds, submerged humps and other traditional structures. Unfortunately, most of these structures end vegetively between the 12 and 16 foot mark even on the clearest systems. Or do they? We’ll get to that. Now the wall is a big fish haven by its very existence. It is a structure that often does not initiate until the 18 foot depth or greater. Thus, if a fish is going to associate structurally, the closest it has to come with surface contact is 12-15 feet. Ideal for a big, old, smart, Wisconsin giant. At 18 feet light penetration is at its greatest for average sand grass growth, therefore the grasses at this mark will have the potential of peak height, sometimes attaining 5-6 feet and present a vertical wall sometimes several feet thick. The degree of the break will determine the breadth potential, but on most of the steep breaks the combined sand-grass threshold of 18- 24 foot potential is typically never wider that a cast length across, and more often a few meager yards. The potential of the grass is dictated by light penetration at depth, height decreasing as depth increases, even more dramatically enhancing the wall effect. What is created is a vertical wall, topping out at 12-13 feet and descending to 28 feet potentially. If we stood on a horizontal plane and looked at it, it creates a literal wall. To a predator, it’s a forage highway. And on the cisco lakes, these stopping points are never more than a tail-shake away. Situated at ideal cisco-suspending depths, these walls are highly appealing to clear water giants more comfortable and conditioned to feeding at depth. As far as length of the weed-bed, there’s two ways of looking at it. I have runs that are ½ mile long producing up and down their length consistently. I have one clump half the size of my Lund that yielded two over fifty inches last year. Sand grass is sand grass. If it’s there, they use it, and they use it for feeding. The second sand grass situation generally consists of broader bands and extensive mats. Yet, size of these structures makes them no less elusive to the unsuspecting eye. One of the unique features I typically find associated with sand grass is the vegetive gap. The gap is literally a zone between traditional weed edges (cabbage, coon-tail, etc.) in the 12-14 range and the start of the deep greens. On a steep tapered break this may result in a barren zone of only several yards. On a more gradual descent the gap may be a hundred feet. The rate of break-line taper also dictates the breadth of these sand grass regions. In some situations, where these breaks become secondary aprons before dropping again into the basin, the result will be fields of 18-28 foot vegetation . And noteworthy of re-mention, water clarity, rooting substrate, and early season sun-light potential will dictate everything being discussed in varying degrees. Where I am presented with this opportunity, I mimic transitions utilized to begin the season as we started in the shallower weed growth and worked our way out to those deeper weed lines. The first passes on these areas will be with the boat running the gap and baits landing out over the deep to mid-range sand grass, depending on the break. Fishing the inside weed edge, essentially. Surface temps are typically in the low seventy degree range for this positioning. If we are still within range of that traditional weed-line, I will keep at least one bait working up top to ensure that those fish slightly slower to transition don’t escape their chance for a few moments in captivity. The sand grass options need to be worked depth appropriately, however, penetrating the water column is not as necessary from this boat positioning and not for several more additional surface temp degrees. While fish will drop low into the column and hover just over those deepest of the deep greens, I’m finding most of these fish suspending at mid-depth in the column over the sand grass. This predominantly places the musky in a range of 10-14 feet down, and accessible by a wide variety of offerings and baits. On brighter days, I want to be in their face. On the overcasts, they’ll rise just fine to feed. I’m using the same arsenal, whichever day is presented, changing up only method of retrieve, and playing the color game, skies depending. Once water temperatures are reaching or exceeding 74 degrees, I switch positions to the outer edges of the sand grass areas. Fish begin to basin orient along this edge, either taking up position or clinging to the periphery. These deep edges will both hold fish and be intermittent contact points for fish who have already gone basin. With heat penetration on the increase and mid-summer sun, fish will typically drop several feet further into the column above the sand-grass and will even spend time nestling themselves in amongst the weeds. Lures will need to be presented with even greater accuracy and consistency on most days. With each passing day their habits and lifestyles take on greater dispositions of a creature conditioned to being deep. This means a much greater resiliency to rising into the upper water column to feed. A strike zone needs to be attained at depths that very few musky anglers are accustomed to fishing. And maintaining casting presentation at depths between 18 and 25 feet isn’t always easy. Yet, determining that strike zone is matching the lock to the key. Out over sand grass that means one thing. Bulldawgs. Not a matter of rocket science, just a matter of fact. The perfect tool for any situation, not just because they’re so snacky, but because possibly it is the only lure ever designed that can attain and be maintained with absolute precision at a specific strike zone. An essential quality when fishing clear-water musky. Getting into and maintaining with precision is simply a matter of either shortening or extending the pauses as the lure is retrieved. I’m often asked about the correct way to retrieve a Dawg in this situation. It all depends on the day. Work it, is what I say. Once you determine depth, put in as many pauses as you can between cranks. Most strikes will arrive as you are back-cranking to pick up line on that pop and pause. Be ready. And you might as well make it as big a dawg as you can lob, as the fish are always eating big by the time they’ve reached these areas. Speaking of big. Big Games. Upon request last season, the owner of the company presented to the table, a new delicacy, well worth mentioning. Twelve inches of castable, rippable, twitchable tasty. Made for sand grass fishing, I believe. Five Wisconsin fish between 50-52 inches were racked up, not to mention all sorts of other beasts in the first THREE weeks of proto-type testing. Every one of these fish came in association with the deep greens. No matter at what depth of sand grass over which these baits were presented, big fish were unable to resist the wide wobble of this presentation. Lateral line contact seems to be as vital as strike zone maintenance when attacking these deep greens. The more water in which a musky surrounds itself means more area through with lure contact must reach. And let’s not be coy, you’d better reach out to the deeps. This is still pond fishing in Northern Wisconsin. That means if you want big musky you settle for populations of low density. At the same time, this is also why I can’t help but promote this tactic with ferocity. Density is a determination of unspecific state-based scientific methodology. All I’m saying is that science can’t account for what it can’t account for or perchance misses with its unfortunately limited methodology. We’re finding lakes reputed nearly devoid of numbers to have amazing populations. We’ re also finding many more individuals than we thought to be big. There’s an abundance of unexplored water out there. Much of it that no one is fishing. I also believe we have many more deep water giants living in our limited acreage and pressured lakes than many of us ever dreamed. Sand grass is part of the key. Something in that brain, an instinct survived from fingerling through adolescence and into maturity, forces an association among the big old submarines and these deep greens. Forage, hunting cover, self-preservation, and for whatever reasons in between, they use it and they use it for a vast portion of the season. Spend some of your hunt this season outside the gap, learn some new areas of old favorite lakes, and have the perseverance to question what we’ve come to know as traditional angling techniques. BIO: Scott Kieper is a full-time licensed guide in Northwest Wisconsin fishing Hayward and the surrounding area. He can be reached at 715-865-MSKE or 715-216-0664. |
