We were three days into our annual trip before we got good news from the local forecast. Storms would be moving through in the afternoon and evening and we knew that if there was ever a time to find big fish it would be during the instability of a front.

The first couple of days of our trip were rough and we spent a great deal of time doing the scout, picking up largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, and northern pike like they were going out of style. It was our first attempt at conquering Lake Vermilion near Cook, Minnesota, but we were intent on adding at least one muskie (North America’s premiere fresh water gamefish) into our growing mix of species before we had to head home. Walleye fishing on this lake is legendary too and we certainly did well – I would catch my two personal best on this trip.

We did our homework ahead of time: marked maps, web site print-outs with tons of information, phone calls and e-mails to veterans of Lake Vermilion pumping them for even more information, and countless meetings of the minds, to discuss strategy. We were stoked and ready the second we launched the boats.

On day one, staring out at the massive 41-thousand acres (“Big-V” certainly earns her nickname), we scrambled to get settled into our cabin. Duffle bags were thrown into bedrooms to stake sacred claim to sleeping quarters that would be used later – much later. Canned goods were stowed in available cabinets as quickly as eight hands could fireman-drill them away. Perishable items made it from cooler to fridge in record time. Then it was time to get rigged and ready.

Of course, rig time is usually accompanied by a cold brew and stories of past triumphs, as if the fish were all gathered at the end of our dock impressed by our prowess. But in spite of all the fire power, all the experience, and all the confidence we arrived with, we were in awe of the lake and the wonder of what lie beneath.

It was clear to us by the time we finished day two that there was simply too much water to cover in one or even two weeks, so we began to focus on hot areas we marked near camp. We raised a few small muskies here-and-there and began to take a bite out of the abundant population of northern pike, walleye, largemouth, and smallmouth bass. Every spot, it seemed, was classic habitat where you could tangle with multiple species. Some spots were massive – two football fields worth of weed bed with well-defined edges, boat docks, boat ramps, stumps, and rocks galore that would all hold fish. It all looked good to us and we found many “spots-within-a-spot” that really stood out as prime targets in the event of a strong condition change.

And so we got that change. By late afternoon on day three the early morning forecast proved right and clouds were forming to the north and it was getting dark. We pounded water until the lightning became too dangerous and we had to take-off for the safety of camp. We still didn’t have a serious sniff from a muskie, but that was about to change.

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