Contact Travis Frank

Phone: 612-382-6927
Email: travis@trophyencounters.com

To book a guided fishing trip or discuss details, please fill out the form to the right and click submit - or use the information above to reach Travis directly.


265 S Oak St
Waconia, MN
United States

612-382-6927

Travis Frank and Trophy Encounters Guide Service specializes in fully-guided fishing trips for Muskie, Walleye, Bass, Northern Pike and Panfish on Lake Minnetonka, Lake Waconia, Lake Mille Lacs and other Metro Minnesota Waters.​

untitled-9037.jpg

Current Fishing Report

Follow Travis Frank's regular fishing report.  Muskie, Walleye, Bass, Pike and more 365 days a year across Minnesota.

It's Time...

Travis Frank

It's been exactly 3 months and 4 days since the last time I swam on open water in the Ranger.  When I think of it that way, winter doesn't seem too long at all.  Heck, I feel like I just got out of that bad boy.  Well anyway, here we go again, and this time we are a few days ahead of schedule.  Typically we would just start thinking about getting the boat out of storage, but I'm actually bummed that I didn't get it out sooner.  The reason?  First, we are going to have a flood coming up soon which will likely end the season early, and secondly, they swines are already smacking.

Yesterday Mitch, Bails and I snuck away from the grindstones of work a little early to enjoy the day and see what was happening on the flowing waters.  This proved to be a good choice, because the water was much warmer than I expected, and the fish were literally smacking the jigs.  It took about 2 to 3 minutes to land the firs one.  We found a pod of fish stacked in a likely haunt and caught our share.  Not that we weren't happy with the fish, but they weren't exactly up to our size standards - so we moved on.

As the afternoon quickly came to a wrap, we struck gold.  I found a little teenie tiny cut that was loaded with some very nice fish.  It was everything you could dream of in a first time fishing outing.  Numbers and size!  Not to mention the great company in the boat.  As the sun faded, we quickly snapped some scenic shots over the river banks and as luck would have it, the final piece to our puzzle latched on the jig.  A swine that shook her head like no other.  It doesn't get any better than that!

Here's a quick tip if you want to fish the river.  Do it now.  If you wait a few days or weeks, it's likely to be all over.  We are about a week or two ahead of schedule, but floods and high water are predicted which will make this feat impossible.  It's time...  Until next time, keep on livin' the dream!

Xtreme Ice Fishing

Travis Frank

I've done a lot of stupid things in my day.  I've put my life in some precarious situations more than once, and I've taken risks that many fisherman would likely think foolish.  I've seen some insane conditions and circumstances have unfolded in the past that left me shaking my head.  I thought I had seen a lot, that was until this weekend.  What I experienced makes everything else seem like no big deal.  I cannot imagine it could get any more intense than this.  Let me explain.

It all started out on Friday evening.  Mike Tengwall, "Tinger," and I hooked up the trailer, loaded the snowmobile and portable shack, and headed for northern Wisconsin.  The object of our effection was Lake Trout on Lake Superior.  I've heard the stories about the ice and watched the news episodes about the guys drifting away on ice chunks, only to be rescued by helicopters.  In fact, that was exactly what we were discussing at about 10:30 PM as our snowmobile trailer ripped off the tongue and went flying out of control at 60 mph.  We got lucky and somehow the trailer stayed upright as it spun in circles attached to absolutely nothing.  God was looking down on us, because magically our gear made it through the disaster and the trailer never flipped.  To make a long story short, this was not the way we wanted to start our trip, and it took us the next 4.5 hours to get all of our gear to the hotel.

Our night was short and our morning consisted of trying to resolve our problem first thing before we went fishing.  We quickly discovered that northern Wisconsin is not the best place to shop for a snowmobile trailer.  We would have ended up with nothing, but found a local business owner about 50 miles away looking to sell a trailer.  After everything we went through, we bought it immediately.

Finally, we reached the ice shortly before noon.  It was at this point that we should have taken everything as a sign and turned dircectly around.  Our friends, Kent and Jenny, were already out on the ice and our goal was a GPS icon that had been so hot for Mike and Kent the years before.  Kent reached that 250 foot deep spot by snowmobile on Friday and had good ice beneath him.  In fact, the locals had piles of fish on the ice when he got there.  That was yesterday, this was today. 

When we finally navigated our way 10 miles through the Apostle islands, it was very clear that the ice we wanted to fish no longer remained.  In fact, we were looking at nothing but open water as far as the eye could see.  It left an uneasy feeling in our stomachs to be so close to the water's edge, especially when one of the locals came up to us and said that this ice would soon be gone too.  We were so close but yet not willing to put ourselves any closer to the water and decided to fish for a short period before we left for the afternoon.  To fish in 230 feet of water only a few hundred yards from open water was just not right.  I had that eerie feeling in my stomach the whole time, but managed to pick up on the techniques and coax a few Lakers into eating.  Unfortunately I missed all 3 of them and we headed to shore without a day one fish. 

Day 2 we figured we would get in on the morning bite and fish in a similar area from the day before.  As we came around the island, 2 of the locals that headed out before us were coming back our way.  Mike instantly said, "that's not good if they are coming back," and as we approached them it was very clear why.  The entire area that we had fished the day before was nothing but open water.  It broke loose in places that we didn't even think possible.  Somehow the current that was ripping through the islands had take out nearly all the ice in it's way.  It was simply incredible to see a mile of ice just dissappear only 12 hours after we had fished it.

As we stood on the ice trying to ponder our next move, things became even more interesting.  Jenny made an insane revelation when she said "guys, am I seeing things, or is this ice moving up and down?" She was right and it was beyond freaky.  If you stopped walking around, you could look in one direction and physically watch the ice raise and lower a foot or two at a time.  I didn't even think this was possible, but sure enough, as I looked at Mike and the others we were riding on waves.  At one point I would be a foot taller than Mike, then the wave would continue and I'd be a foot lower.  It put knots in my stomach instantly.  It was the worst roller coaster ride I had ever experienced, and to make it even worse, we were only on 6 inches of ice.  Every crack around us had water in it (the tell-tale sign that the ice is going to break free) and we were without ever knowing, in the heart of it all.  If I didn't think that I could fall through at any second, it would actually have been kind of cool to get my camera, set it up, and record the motion effect.  That was not the case though, and I didn't race for the camera.  Instead, it was a race to get the heck out of there.

Ever heard of a Beetle? This is what you use to fish in 230 feet of water, weighs 2 to 3 ounces and catches lake trout like crazy!With an entire 5 square mile section of ice now off limits, we opted for a somewhat protected location to try our luck.  It was a new spot a few miles away and around an island.  None of us had ever fished it before, but we didn't care and just wanted an area that we felt safe and could wet a line.  In our minds we were still shaken up and just wanted to fish comfortably.  This was the right idea and by 9:15 AM we were finally fishing.  Around 10:00 I finally iced my first Lake Trout.  Not a giant, but a Laker nonetheless, and out of 160 feet of water, it was pretty darn sweet.  Mike followed that up shortly after with a couple of his own and soon after Jenny and Kent each iced their first fish.  Entangled in the fun we almost forgot about our morning experience.  Mike then stole the show with a battle that was the exact reason for our insane adventure.  A dandy of a laker that gave me a new appreciation for a giant battle on ice.  It was at that point that we could almost enjoy the art of fishing again.  Unfortunately that was all about to change. 

As the early hours of the afternoon started to pass Mike took a walk outside.  It was obvious that something drastic was changing under our feet.  All I heard from Mike was "Travis, you better get out here."  As I walked out of the house I noticed that it was wet every step I took.  All the cracks had water in them (the bad sign) and Mike told me to stand still.  Sure enough, I could literally see the waves in the ice.  We were raising and lowering as if we were in a boat.  I can honestly tell you that this is not cool when you are on ice.  Not even a little bit.  Our stomachs just dropped and we raced to get our gear packed up.  We tried to keep our cool, but you could feel the urgency in our work.  In a matter of seconds we were ready to go but the snowmobile was stuck in the wet snow.  Not cool.  As fast as two grown men could, we pushed the snowmobile and sled out and started heading back as fast as possible.  The only problem was the loose chunks of ice that we were driving over.  The smaller chunks would take on water as the weight of our machine would push them down.  I almost crapped my pants at that point, but thankfully the snowmobile could handle it and would skip over the bad spots.  It wasn't until a few miles and two large pressure ridges were crossed before we had any sense of comfort about us.  I can honestly say that I have never screamed "Go, Go, Go," so loud in my entire life.  The second we hit shore I knelt down, patted the ground and said thank you God.  For the first time in my life, I actually thought that I may have gone too far and tested the limits too much.  We were so pumped to be on solid land and without hesitation, we called it a weekend.  We packed the gear and drove 6 hours through a midwest snowstorm.

We figured we lost a good 5 years on our lives after that day.  Looking back on it all, I can say that I never truely felt comfortable on that ice.  I wore a life jacket and had ice picks, which I am usually too tough to wear.  There were several times that I will admit to being scared.  It sounds aweful to say, but I remember playing out scenarios in my mind for when we went through.  How would I get out?  What would I do if we both were in the water?  Things that I've never had in my mind on a fishing trip.  I can't explain it, it was just something that I am glad I made it through, and glad I was able to experience just once.  But, on the plus side, I was told that this was as bad as anyone has seen it up there.  So I guess I have seen the worst of it.  Will I go back?  I don't know that yet.  I'm still trying to clean my shorts. 

P.S.  That ice we narrowly escaped from on Sunday...It's gone.  Until next time, keep on livin' the dream!

It's as good as it gets!

Travis Frank

Winter got you down?  Typically this is the time of the year that I start to get bored with the bite.  Traffic on the lakes become almost unbearable, and it seems almost impossible to talk a walleye into biting.  It's usually the time of the year that people start to get sluggish in their walleye fishing and a few panfish guru's are all that is left.  I use to be this way too, not anymore!

There is literally something large to pursue and catch all year long.  Just ask Phillip.  He's the guy in the first picture holding the fish.  He's a river rat you could say, and the more I fish with him, the more I want to become one myself.  The river is simply where its at.  This is almost a secret that I shouldn't even be posting, but I will because it is such a challenge that 99% of you won't even give it a try.  Rivers are so unpredictable, challenging and frustrating that it takes a lot of patience to actually succeed.  The end result if you do give it a try?  Well it can be better than anything you ever imagined, and the rewards can be very very big.

Think of it this way.  Our lakes are slowly losing their oxygen levels.  Snow cover is depleting oxygen to the point that fish slow their metabolism to make due.  They move around less as a result of this, and the end product is less active fish that feed less than we would like.  Now think about this.  Rivers are always flowing.  Oxygen levels are always high and fish are always on the move.  As spring approaches the big females are putting on the feedbag in preparation for the spawn.  This means that the bigger fish are only going to start feeding more and more.  Ten pound walleyes are not out of the question, and I've even heard of some pushing the scales over 12 and 13.  True giants!

Last night Mike and I met up with Phillip to give it a shot.  It took us all of about 15 minutes to land the first walleye.  Not a giant, but too big to keep and an exciting start to our afternoon.  Shortly after, Mike landed his first and the game was on.  Before the sun set on our evening we landed several nice walleyes and kept a few to try in the pan.  We didn't land any monsters on this particular evening, but from what I've seen in the past, I'm getting jazzed for the next several weeks before the season closes.

Here are some things to consider before you even think about fishing a river through the ice.  First thing - safety.  Always use caution when you head out on the ice.  The ice is very unpredictable and only venture on areas that you know are safe.  Secondly, you should know your waters before you head out.  What you might think to be deep water could literally be the bottom and therefore your auger blades will be toast before you even make it through one hole.  Trust me, I've seen it.  You'll also want to be prepared with the appropriate lures.  Current makes things a lot more interesting and your small little cute jigs will seriously drift into no man's land.  Lastly, persistance is key.  You may fish several days with nothing, but if you stick it out, you just might have to figure out how to stuff a football through an ice hole with flowing current below.  It aint easy, but a good problem to have!  There are several other things that can help your cause, but I'll keep that to myself for now and leave some of the challenge up to you.  Good luck, Minnesota is full of rivers, get out and explore, I assure you that you won't be dissapointed.  Until the next fat walleye strikes, keep on livin' the dream!

Dougy has the touch...

Travis Frank

Sometimes one man just has the touch.  Whether it's a big fish, a limit, several limits, or just a unique event, someone always manages to stand apart.  This trip was no different, and this time it was Doug's turn.

Friday evening we gathered the troops and headed up to the big pond.  It was a guys weekend away so to speak.  Not that I have a shortage of these trips, but its still nice to get away from town for a day or two.  Our group consisted of 6 dudes, Dusty, Bails, Dougy, Dingy, Pauly and yours truly.  We had two big shacks and a few portables, so basically we were ready for anything.  Our plan was to have base camp and venture around in the predicted warm temps. 

Saturday morning came and we were busy catching.  Not a ton, but we were still catching.  My patience lasted for about 15 minutes without a bite and the truck was already warming up.  When I'm on that lake, I know they are always biting somewhere and I can't stand sitting around waiting for them to come to me.  Shortly into our morning we abandoned the home base and left Dougy as the dude watching the house.  Helping Dougy hold down the fort was his mother Lucille who lives just outside of Garrison.  She came early Saturday morning along with her Daughter Janet and son in law Vic.  This was the way it was scripted and we left the fabulous foursome alone in the house while we went out to play.

Every once in a while the phone would ring and we would get a fresh report from the shack.  A few here and a couple misses there was the voice on the other end.  Not earth shattering, but action nonetheless.  We experienced similar results on our end while on the move.  We had a mixed bag of walleyes, perch and tullibee.  This was all good, but the highlight came when we returned to the shack for a freshly made home cooked stew from Grandma's house.  Does it get any better in the fish house?  I think not!

That afternoon we pounded holes in the ice looking for untouched territories and aggressive fish.  We found little of either and had to really work hard on the crowded ice to find what we wanted.  We managed a few nice walleyes and several others on the small end.  This was ok, because we were about to experience a memory that will likely never fade. 

As we approached the house on our way back for the evening, the phone rang.  Dougy was frantically asking where the ruler was.  "Grandma has a good one" he said loud enough for me to hear through the phone.  Nice, was all I thought.  As we walked in the house, it was a little bit chaotic to see a pale with several walleyes, and Grandma with a big smile.  At 87 ripe years of age, she managed to take the rattle reel and go into hand to hand combat with her dinner.  The house was alive, and Dougy was the happiest son on Lake Mille Lacs.  It was awesome just to be a part of it, and they relived that moment several times over with us.  To make it better, grandma Lucy took her 16 1/2 inch walleye home, cleaned it herself, cooked it, ate it and then called us to tell us how great it all was.  Now that is cool!

Saturday night we moved home base to a fresh area we scouted out.  We felt good about it, and hoped for a good Sunday morning bite before we were to head home for the Vikes game.  Again we went outside exploring, and again and again, Dougy kept coming out to show us about the ones he was catching.  Not that we weren't catching them too, but he was definitely putting on a clinic for us "young boys."  To top it off he opened the door one last time and was all smiles with a fat 25 incher in his hand.  Big fish for the trip and icing on the cake.  A few moments later we finished our limit and called it a day.  A perfect one at that.  Congratulations to Grandma Lucy and Dougy for a weekend never to forget.  Also thanks to everyone for all the laughs and fun.  You are the best.  Until next time, keep on livin' your dream!

Predator Quest...

Travis Frank

I've been bitten yet again.  No, I didn't litterally get bitten by a fox or coyote, but the passion to pursue them has recently consumed me.  Here's a brief background history for those that don't know me.  Most of my family grew up in the farm country of western Minnesota.  My father and uncles use to hunt and trap fox and other predators during the fall and winter months.  They would skin and sell the pelts for what use to be a pretty large chunk of change.  While this isn't as big of a sport as it once was, it still has its place in Minnesota outdoors. 

I was lucky enough to have a couple of uncles, Loge and Ray (Bod), that would include me on their journeys.  During the winter months we would travel the back country roads in search of fox laying in the open fields.  Once we spotted one we would have to figure out how to get close enough for a shot.  If you know anything at all about these animals, then you realize that they are likely the smartest critters on the planet.  It is extremely difficult to get within range of one, and doing so doesn't always ensure that you will be able to make the shot.  The cold, wind and extreme snow depths can play a huge part in making it all happen when your target is as small as a fox.  I consider it one of the ultimate tests of a hunter.  For years I was blessed to learn from a couple of the best predator hunters around.  I experienced hunts that I will never forget, which is probably why this passion is now coming back to center stage for me.

Looking at 2010, the game is a little different.  Coyote have taken over many of the areas that we use to find our fox.  I have been hard at the game during the past few weeks by way of calling, and I will be honest, I have struggled.  The coyotes are everywhere, but they have shown me why they are the smartest critters out there.  If I zig, they zag, and vise versa.  It has been a game of cat and mouse that they have been winning.  This was the reason I made a call last Saturday to my mentor Loge, and graciously he accepted the invitation to hit the backroads yet again.

Our morning started out fast and furious.  About 1 mile from the farm, and 1 minute down the road, a coyote blasted past us through a ditch.  The early morning darkness allowed us the opportunity to hopefully watch the animal bed down for the day, and as we picked a location to view the section to watch the coyote, we were surprised to find a beautiful red fox out mousing around in the same field.  After a few moments we made the decision to give up on the 'yote and watch the fox.  This is where the hunter became the loser in the deal.  After about 20 minutes the fox worked its way to an area that we could set up to call.  Instead of waiting for him to lay down, we decided to take matters into our own hands and hit the calls.  Joining Loge and I for the day was my good buddy Matt.  He and I set out in our full white camoflouge and began a calling sequence.  After a few moments it was obvious that we had been outsmarted.  Tracks in the fox's location reveiled that somehow during a 3 minute window of us not watching the brilliant critter hit the ditch and left the section.  We were calling at nothing and that's just what came to our call.  Ouch!

Still holding high hopes because of my lucky charm, Loge, we cruised the country roads looking for the next available opportunity.  About 4 hours went by with nothing, then we hit a gold mine.  A coyote was working its way through a field, and we had the perfect plan to cut it off.  Lucky for us, Matt and I were perfectly set in place to make it happen.  Here is where the story gets even better.  Matt had the first chance, but missed the coyote 3 times.  As I waited on a fenceline for the coyote to come my way, I was absolutely blown away when from the opposite direction a red fox was working the same fenceline right at me.  For a split second I didn't know what to do, but I quickly decided that I'd rather have a red than the yote.  With only 4 shells in my gun I waited as the fox drew closer, 300 yards, 200 yards, 150 yards.  My heart was pounding threw my chest for this opportunity that I so seldomly have.  The hard part was that as it got closer it started coming faster, then at about 100 yards it instinctively took a turn and was now running broadside.  I was beyond flustered, I tried to stop the fox, but he just kept picking up steam.  At that point the perfect standing shot I was waiting for was now running by at 30 mph.  I opened up and let 4 shots miss completely.  It was at that moment that I turned over my shoulder and watched a coyote stand and look at me and my empty gun.  To make it worse, he was standing broadside at less than 100 yards.  Ouch again!

For some of you, this story will never make sense and you will think that I am weird for even writing about this.  For others, you will be able to relate and understand exactly what was happening during these moments.  As I watched my opportunities run away I vowed to make the next opportunity a success no matter what!  I had a feeling of total defeit.  As we drove over the hill to see if we could spot either of the critters we were blown away by what we had discovered.  While the coyote somehow managed to slip into thin air, there were three more fox out in the section.  Two of them were bedded down and one of them was out mousing around in the sun.  Jackpot!

As we were observing the situation a neighbor approached us and explained that they had just watched another fox bed down about a 2 miles down the road.  Jackpot again!  Now the only problem was on our end and finding a way not to mess everything up.  I was given the first opportunity and decided to try to sneak up on the fox out mousing around.  They are tough to sneak up on when they are sleeping, and even tougher when they are awake.  Luckily, I had a perfect sneak route through a drainage ditch.  As I quietly snuck through the 10 foot snow drifts I would pop up to make sure the fox was still in his spot.  Out of breathe, I managed to get within 130 yards.  Again my heart was pounding with adrenaline and hopes that I wouldn't mess it up.  As I squeezed the trigger my heart sank.  The perfect broadside shot again missed its mark and the fox ran out of sight over the hill.  I reloaded and hoped for one more chance if the fox would stop in an open area.  As luck would have it, I was ready and the fox gave me one more chance at about 350 yards.  Bang!  This time I somehow managed to make the shot.  It was like I had just shot a 200 class whitetail or landed a state record muskie.  It finally all came together!  Drenched with sweat and adrenaline I finally drug myself and my prize back to the truck and received high fives and laughter from the boys that watched it all go down.  Bittersweet!

Next it was Matt's turn.  This time I was the lucky one to get to watch.  I managed to get a photo of his sleeping target, but that's all we will ever have from that hunt.  Matt's dead eye marksmanship proved not enough as he was reminded how difficult these things are to hit.  Defeited, he came back to the farmyard that we were waiting in with three empty shells and no fox.  It was a good effort, but that fox will again be left to hunt another day. 

With two sweaty and exhausted hunters in the truck, it was now the master hunter Loge's turn to try his luck.  Unfortunately, this hunt never came to be.  As he donned the white's and prepared to step into the field, two snow machines drove through the field and we watched the fox make a B-line for another country.  "Oh well, that fox is lucky," was all he said, as we called it a day and headed back to the farm. 

The sun had set and our predator quest was over, but it was more exciting than I ever remembered.  It was a day of excitement that I'm sure the three of us won't soon forget.  It was a roadtrip back down memory lane for me, and as I sit at this computer I can still picture the intense moments that I had in the middle of those snow covered fields.  The only thing I can say to close this journal entry is this, you just have to try it for yourself.  Until next time, keep on livin' the dream!