Musky Mauler
06-21-2013, 09:26 AM
Bret Robert1 said: "Musky Mauler, enjoy your posts. Keep em coming." He might rue the day that he encouraged me. Anyway, I think I should explain how I got that moniker, "Musky Mauler." Earl Tomek claimed that I was missing all too many musky strikes because I was setting the hook so hard that I was tearing the hook right out of their mouths and thus "mauling" them. So, because of him, I became "Musky Mauler." (I've certainly been called worse!)
Upon entering the Old Log Inn one day - some 40 or 50 years ago, or so - Earl's wife, Elsie, asked me how I felt. I said, "Ornery!" She thought I said, "Horny," so, after that she stopped asking how I felt each day. And, before we'd head out for a day's musky fishing, Earl would always check on the gold fish that he kept in a bowl behind the bar. His theory was that if it were swimming near the top, we'd use surface lures. (For some reason, they're called "topwater lures" nowadays.) If the gold fish were swimming low, we'd eschew surface lures, and ply deeper waters - - Earl's favorite lure being a deadly black bucktail. (Still the best musky bait there is - in my own humble opinion.) A bucktail can be made to swim right up near the top, or a bit lower in the depths, depending upon the fisherman's choice. Earl's bucktal had half of the hair chewed off by angry muskies, but it still worked fantastically well. I could toss a lure into a nice pocket in a batch of musky cabbage, all to no avail. He'd then toss that motley bucktail of his right into the same pocket and wham! Mr. Musky would latch on. (Life is still unfair!)
In years past I certainly enjoyed fishing with Earl Tomek and my good friend, Wally Wagner, neither of whom are with us anymore. They were both pipe smokers, and would always bum a bit of tobacco from each other. All in all, I'm not sure who got the best of the other in that regard. Anyway, I might have told this tale previously, so forgive me for repeating myself. But, here goes:
One day, we were out fishing for walleyes on the Flowage. We did no good for the entire morning of fishing - - except that I had managed to catch the biggest walleye of my life! It was the only fish (other than a couple of "snakes") that was caught, and it was a beauty! It was decided that it just had to go to the taxidermist up near town on Highway 13 so I could hang it on my wall.
We pulled up onto pump island for our usual shore lunch. But, we were going to be limited to fried potatoes and beans. This is because Earl and Wally subscribed to the "Code of the North Woods Fisherman" that specified that the ONLY meat to be eaten at ANY shore lunch would consist of part of that day's catch. So, we were faced with a lack of meat. However, in anticipation of a possible calamity, such as that which we faced that particular day, I had secreted a package of hotdogs in my tackle box. Earl and Wally were a bit miffed at my "transgression," but it they tempered their disdain upon the realization that my transgression would at least provide a bit of protein to go along with the fried potatoes and beans.
We needed firewood, so the three of us went searching for same. Back then there were TONS of driftwood all over the Flowage. We each went our separate way to gather some nice, dry properly-sized pieces for our lunchtime fire. I wasn't gone for more than ten minutes. But, when I got back they had already lit a fire; had Earl's oversize frying pan going; and there were two BIG walleye filets already sizzling in the pan! Wally and Earl laughed and handed me the skeleton carcass of my all-time biggest walleye and told me I could mount THAT and hang it on the wall if I wanted to.
I, too, had to laugh at the trick they pulled on me. Hey, how did I know that I'd never again catch one that big? However, I must admit that it did taste a lot better than those hotdogs would have tasted. Hey, how can I help but miss "those good old days?"
Upon entering the Old Log Inn one day - some 40 or 50 years ago, or so - Earl's wife, Elsie, asked me how I felt. I said, "Ornery!" She thought I said, "Horny," so, after that she stopped asking how I felt each day. And, before we'd head out for a day's musky fishing, Earl would always check on the gold fish that he kept in a bowl behind the bar. His theory was that if it were swimming near the top, we'd use surface lures. (For some reason, they're called "topwater lures" nowadays.) If the gold fish were swimming low, we'd eschew surface lures, and ply deeper waters - - Earl's favorite lure being a deadly black bucktail. (Still the best musky bait there is - in my own humble opinion.) A bucktail can be made to swim right up near the top, or a bit lower in the depths, depending upon the fisherman's choice. Earl's bucktal had half of the hair chewed off by angry muskies, but it still worked fantastically well. I could toss a lure into a nice pocket in a batch of musky cabbage, all to no avail. He'd then toss that motley bucktail of his right into the same pocket and wham! Mr. Musky would latch on. (Life is still unfair!)
In years past I certainly enjoyed fishing with Earl Tomek and my good friend, Wally Wagner, neither of whom are with us anymore. They were both pipe smokers, and would always bum a bit of tobacco from each other. All in all, I'm not sure who got the best of the other in that regard. Anyway, I might have told this tale previously, so forgive me for repeating myself. But, here goes:
One day, we were out fishing for walleyes on the Flowage. We did no good for the entire morning of fishing - - except that I had managed to catch the biggest walleye of my life! It was the only fish (other than a couple of "snakes") that was caught, and it was a beauty! It was decided that it just had to go to the taxidermist up near town on Highway 13 so I could hang it on my wall.
We pulled up onto pump island for our usual shore lunch. But, we were going to be limited to fried potatoes and beans. This is because Earl and Wally subscribed to the "Code of the North Woods Fisherman" that specified that the ONLY meat to be eaten at ANY shore lunch would consist of part of that day's catch. So, we were faced with a lack of meat. However, in anticipation of a possible calamity, such as that which we faced that particular day, I had secreted a package of hotdogs in my tackle box. Earl and Wally were a bit miffed at my "transgression," but it they tempered their disdain upon the realization that my transgression would at least provide a bit of protein to go along with the fried potatoes and beans.
We needed firewood, so the three of us went searching for same. Back then there were TONS of driftwood all over the Flowage. We each went our separate way to gather some nice, dry properly-sized pieces for our lunchtime fire. I wasn't gone for more than ten minutes. But, when I got back they had already lit a fire; had Earl's oversize frying pan going; and there were two BIG walleye filets already sizzling in the pan! Wally and Earl laughed and handed me the skeleton carcass of my all-time biggest walleye and told me I could mount THAT and hang it on the wall if I wanted to.
I, too, had to laugh at the trick they pulled on me. Hey, how did I know that I'd never again catch one that big? However, I must admit that it did taste a lot better than those hotdogs would have tasted. Hey, how can I help but miss "those good old days?"