S. Cunningham

I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be fishing for musky in Northern Wisconsin. When the call came, I did not hesitate but accepted immediately and made changes to any conflicting activities, as they were now insignificant.
One day up, fish one day, then one day back. I was very concerned over the logistics and potential complications from many variables beyond our control. (Weather, flight times, connecting times to the second flight, checked luggage transfer especially in Chicago.) I made a tub of gear I might need. My Bass Pro Guide Wear parka and pantsuit, waterproof/Thinsulate boots, gloves and flannel lined jeans. It was less expensive shipping it to Scott Samuels than paying American Airlines for excess baggage, overweight or oversized and yet even then it might misconnect.
The communication at O’Hare was necessary and went well. When you could not make it at least we knew early enough to prevent you from playing O.J. Simpson running through the airport. You knew to notify Corrina to start making other arrangements for you. All it took was, “they have closed the door and the jet bridge is off the plane!” It went as well as could be. My connecting time was so limited I did not have time to find anyone else in the group and didn’t until we arrived at CWA.
Everything fell into place. We 5 met and John McDaniel was there too. We piled into the vehicles and we were off, well coordinated. My foul weather tote was in my cabin. The facilities at Eagle River Resort exceeded my expectations: the rooms, the dining arrangements, and the pleasantness of the staff.
Then came the after dinner welcome. Each of us was presented a St Croix musky rod, a Diawa reel, a box of musky baits, toques, coffee mugs and the ladies there presented us with a hand made quilt. The sponsors deserve much appreciation from all of us.
I was introduced to my guide, Chas (Dude) Martin from Chicago. A real good guy. He had many musky under his belt and had been tutored by Joe Bucher. I never really go to know any of the other guides time was so limited.
Duke knew the lake chain. He did not show any sign of tiring, and we were on a Lewis and Clark expedition in search of our quarry. We had to get “slimed” with musky slime! I have never thrown artificial baits the size we were chunking that day. We chunked and chunked, moved and chunked some more. I already knew the musky was the fish of 10,000 casts so this was no surprise. We went here, we went there, we found dead weeds and we found green weeds. It was not for lack for lack of trying. We went into every lake in the chain standing and chunking. The thing about it was we went to every favorite spot Dude had.
He was great. He could handle the banter and dish it out too. We laughed all day except when we made runs between potential previously known success spots. The wind on the face was the only place I had no protection.
Dude is a science teacher in Chicago. He let it slip or he thought I might not notice but good banter is always relished. He ended a sentence with a preposition. I had to tell him how I had been corrected years ago and we laughed whole heartily.
On one lake we saw some loons. I had not heard the haunting cry of a loon for some fifty plus years. Needless to say, I did get some pictures. Yes, there were eagles, but you can’t see or hear loons in Tennessee.
The day was winding down and I did not know it but arrangements had been made to meet Joe Bucher at 3:00pm. I did not know Joe, or his abilities, or his wealth of knowledge. But when he stepped on the boat it was like an aura. He radiated positive vibes, all smiles, and banter material. I did not know him but I felt he has a good heart.
He asked Dude where his prototype bait was, tied it on my line and within 15 minutes I was hauling my musky out of the water. I had no idea the mass of that fish. Its face reminded me of a barracuda except flat and had eyes that read, “I will bite you!” Everything came together. The rod took the fish, the reel handled the drag, and the fisherman played the fish and did not wrench it out of the water like a dragline draws in its material. Dude handled the boat, Joe handled the net and Scott was grinning ear to ear as king on the hilltop. I will never forget that few minutes.
We returned to the lodge and were off to the VFW where we were taken care of again. Gifts of thanks were presented to the sponsors and to the guides and we participants were presented with the memory of a gift of God.
You cannot beat good people with good hearts, good food, good times and no worries.
5am came early the next morning as we scampered about to get to the airport heading home to ride the winds of time. Time rolling back into our state of reality in our own homes and beds.
Thank you Scott Samuels, John McDaniel, Joe Bucher, the people of Eagle River and my boat mate, Dude.