Pine Knot Outdoors: Quest for the big bite requires lots of adjustments

I have a little secret my wife and kids already know. Sometimes, I have no idea what I'm doing. The last couple of weeks on the water, I've been making it up as I go. Some trips have worked out, others have bombed. The only way to grow as an angler is to stretch yourself, and I've grown comfortable being uncomfortable.

Ten days ago my brother Bruce and I ventured miles offshore onto Lake Superior in pursuit of roaming schools of walleyes. Chasing walleyes is not new to us. But piecing together the puzzle on the massive expanse of Lake Superior proved challenging. We trolled 40-50 feet down over 85-110 feet of water. Without downriggers, we relied on lead core line and Dipsey Divers to deliver our baits to the desired depths. We trolled aimlessly for hours without anything tangible to show for our efforts. As we worked our way back toward Park Point, my graph began to show more signs of life. Massive balls of bait and corresponding arcs indicating bigger fish kept us focused. Sure enough, a plump lake trout and several walleyes decided they wanted to come topside and take a ride in the big blue Lund's live well.

This week the kids and I have made a couple of trips to the St. Louis River in search of one big fish to cap off summer. One afternoon we cast the shoreline and trolled huge muskie baits for hours without any luck. Pretending to know what you're doing doesn't always work.

With a few minor adjustments, our muskie rods became sturgeon rods as we shifted our focus on our next trip. The St. Louis River has a resident population of sturgeon in good numbers coupled with a catch and release season. I tied up four rods with 2-ounce weights, short leaders, and #5 circle hooks. Gobbed onto each hook we threaded 7-8 nightcrawlers. We anchored in a deep hole and stared anxiously at our rod tips. Sturgeon fishing is a waiting game. So we waited.

After several minutes, one of our rods began to bounce as the line peeled off the reel. Visions of Goliath sturgeon filled our collective imagination. The circle hook found its mark in the corner of the fish's mouth as the battle began. Quickly we realized a catfish had grabbed our offering. Several more catfish pestered us in the deep hole, forcing us to pull anchor and head downstream.

We crossed paths with one other boat targeting catfish and sturgeon. Lorin LeMire of Duluth knows a thing or two about chasing fish in the Northland. On hiatus from his Lake Superior charter service, Fish of the Gitch, he and his fishing partner were spending an impromptu afternoon on the same stretch of river.

Ten dozen crawlers and 30 catfish later, our sturgeon total was zero. However, LeMire hooked and landed exactly what we sought: an ancient sturgeon of monstrous proportions.

"It bit just like the nibblers," LeMire recalled, referring to the channel cats that peck at your bait. "I fully expected another re-bait, only to have the rod fold in half!" he exclaimed.

Fifteen minutes later the fish was boat-side. A few quick pictures and the sturgeon was promptly released to live another decade or two. No measurements were taken, but from the pictures, the fish easily measured between 55-60 inches.

Seeing LeMire's sturgeon fired us up to try again another day. Most big fish don't come easy. A giant muskie or a 5-foot sturgeon doesn't come along every day. If you're going to focus on the big bite, you need to be physically prepared to succeed. Just as importantly, you need to be mentally prepared to fail.

Bret Baker is a lifetime resident of Cloquet. He is a proud husband, father, educator and outdoorsman. Bret began guiding fishing trips when he was 16 years old. Today his passion is to introduce people to outdoor adventures in the region.