Imagine chasing an animal that is just about as tall as you are in inches, is the top of the food chain, sneaks up on its prey with utmost stealth, and ravishes upon attack.  Now imagine this predator being underwater and constantly lurking for its next lunch. 

Yes; I’m talking about chasing north country monsters, the heralded muskellunge. Musky, for short, is what we like to call them, and casting thousands of times for that anticipated hit and fight is for what we yearn.

I had weekend plans to chase muskies, those kind of plans that keep you working the day job starting Monday, waiting patiently for that first bucktail cast on Saturday morning. 

My plans came to fruition.  I made it out with the intention of taking advantage of that later summer/early fall bite.  However, the bite I did not find. 

Despite the lack of luck, the north country serenity eased my disappointment.  That Saturday morning started as a majestic day full of monster anticipation and shear relaxation from the perils of real life responsibility. 

The fog over the water seemed like both an invitation to lake country fantasy and a warning to what lies beneath. 

My victory was not the score of a musky strike but the ability to capture the memory with a photograph and simply live the experience.  This day epitomizes what we at the MNSJ want to capture.

Copyright 2011 Backwoods Revolution