A New Year Awaits!

With dreams of a new year already in my sights, I'd be foolish not to count my blessings during a killer 2010.  To be honest, I'm extremely lucky that I get to chase my passion for a living.  I am grateful every day.  From the frozen water to the field, I have landed on a few recent journey's that I'd love to share.  Instead of spewing about every detail, I'm going to lay out a list of photos.  My hope is that you can see the highlights and passion that comes from each moment.  I've always had a love for the outdoors, capturing it through the camera lens gives me another way to share it.

I'll consider this a bit of a sample from the last several weeks.  It's been great!  I hope you enjoy!

Another Beginning...

Where do I start?  Where did the summer go?  First off, I want to thank everyone that made my open water season so memorable.  I could go on for days with stories about the people that made them so special.  Instead, I'm hoping to give a big shout out to everyone who was a part of it and hope that the memories remain with us forever.  It's during times of reflection that I am reminded how lucky and blessed I really am.  God is good to me!

With the end of one season, there is always a start to another.  Ice is on the horizon.  We are currently in the "waiting" stages for our big water ice season to begin.  My patience is very limited, so I jammed my weekend full of activities to pass the time.  Friday.  Black Friday to be exact.  We snuck onto some smaller waters and stretched the string with some panfish.  Sure we had odd looks from passerby's, but we found 3 inches of ice and walked safely to our honey hole.  I set the hook a few times, then put the rod down and picked up my camera.  My new passion is capturing the sport with the lens.  We had some good light in the afternoon sky and I clicked a few pics for the album.  If that didn't make my day, the pale full of fish and the fry to follow sure did.  Thanks to Scotty, Brian and Bails for sharing the first day of the ice season with me.  I won't forget it!

Next on our mixed bag weekend, we switched gears and grabbed the camoflouge.  We found a huntable lake with open water remaining and set up our spread for a Saturday morning waterfowl shoot.  Fortunately for the ducks, the open water froze tight around the decoy spread and the entire lake locked up before our very eyes.  Only one drake mallard found us before the season ended.  It sure made for an interesting pick up in the ice.  Thank you Scott and Bails for wearing the waders. 

After the hunt, we switched camoflouge again and hit the country roads.  This time we wore white.  Bails and I decided to chase red fox and coyote.  Two of the toughest critters to outsmart.  First step was to sight in our guns, second was to score permission on good property.  We did both in quick fashion.  As the sun set we found ourselves being hunted by a big red.  The FOXPRO caller sang the perfect tune, and a fox blew through our field.  At 30 yards, I let the buckshot fly.  Intense is a weak description for the events that unfolded.  When you have a predator coming after you at full speed, your knees get wobbly.  It's awesome!

I may look back on this weekend and remember many great moments.  The best of which could very easily be the one that happened last.  Bails, Wags and I headed to another panfish haunt for a sunset outing on the ice.  As darkness fell, my weekend became complete.  A sunset for the ages was upon us.  I set the pole down and took as many pictures as I could snap.  It was a blessing that I won't soon forget.  One that I will look back on years from now and say, "hey, Bails, do you remember that night on the ice when the sun took over the sky?"  I bet he'll say, "Yep, that was the end to a good weekend!"  Until next time, keep on livin' your dream!

 

 

The Quest Continues...

Hello.  My name is Travis Frank, and I am addicted to fat muskies.  It's a problem that I've been dealing with for several years now.  This week doesn't help my addiction.  Chasing 50 pounders never gets old.

Home from a 12 day assignment on the east coast, I was ready for the dirty deed.  Prior to my trip, the first attempt at the record brought more action than I can remember from a November day.  While away, I watched pictures of monsters being boated and I will admit that it was painful to be a thousand miles from home.  The first thing I did when I returned was go to church.  Then I hooked up the boat and prepared for battle.

Technically, Monday would be day two of the quest.  It was only my 2nd trip of the fall.  Joining me was my good ol' fishing buddy Matt Peters.  A diehard angler up for the challenge of cold weather and fat fish.  It took about 2 hours to get dialed in on the pattern for the day.  We found suspended tullibees splashing near the surface away from structure.  My gut told me to mix it up, so I threw on a swimbait and burnt it through the schools of baitfish.  To my surprise, it only took 1 cast.  As I burnt the bait inches under the surface I had a low 40 incher screaming behind and as I turned for the figure 8, she decided it was good enough to eat.  Fortunately for the lil' guy, I managed to loose her in the boatside battle.  I was jacked, Matt was speechless.  I hoped it wasn't a one cast wonder, but 5 casts later another fish chased me around boatside proving that it wasn't a fluke.  I guess you can use speed even when the water is cold.  Another myth debunked!

We moved on using our new gameplan to our advantage.  As we motored to a favorite haunt of of mine, I explained to Matt that there is a fish here named Edna.  She has a weight problem and she will likely push the scale around 50 pounds.  I also mentioned that I had been after her for the past two years.  As I approached her home the tension grew.  I could just feel it.  Then, as if it was perfectly scripted from above, my rod doubled over and the battle was on.  She shook hard once and then bullrushed me.  If you've ever had a big fish charge the boat, you'll understand that this is a tough scenario.  Fortunately for her, she shook the hooks and escaped my camera lens once again.  The adrenaline was awesome, but the day ended without a fish in the boat.  The stats looked something like this.  6 fish observed in their feeding habits, two of which successfully found hooks, both of which successfully let their food (my lure) swim freely again.

This action only added fuel to my fire.  I had visions of Edna, Marge, Diane and Fat Bastard.  All fish pushing the 50 pound mark.  Day number 3 quickly came.  Joining me for the circus was Mitch Petrie and Todd Mosher.  For Mitch, this was his first experience.  Todd, however, is a seasoned vet and one of my favorite dudes to chase fall fatty's with.  We've had some great days in the past, and this was to be another.  The weather had changed and so did the attitude.  They weren't following.  Instead they were eating.  Just the way I like it!

Our morning was uneventful and the wind had created quite a stir.  Visibility was nil and after a few hours of figure 8's in murky water we decided to punt and head to new territories.  The home of Fat Bastard.  About 30 minutes later it was obvious that we made the right decision.  A nice fall muskie found the net and high fives and fist pumps could be seen from our Ranger boat.  Just the way we like it!

Next it was Todd's turn.  As we approached the promise area he was stopped dead in his tracks.  The hook set revealed a flaw in his reel and the broken gear created a backlash that meant chance number 2 would forever remain a question mark in our minds.  Life went on and so did the action.  The next strike came on my end as the surface broke with a muskie thrash and a face full of rubber.  Slime hit the net and once again the emotion was felt and the anxiety of sub-freezing temps released a cause for celebration. 

As darkness fell on day number 3, so did the cold.  Our boat quickly became a solid sheet of ice.  With the crash of each wave, the carpet turned into a skating rink.  Not the place to be in rocking waves.  In the fading light, Fat Bastard made her move.  Inches behind my bucktail the giant was ready to eat.  The only problem was on my end.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't take a step or run the figure 8.  For fear of slipping over the edge I simply raised my rod tip and pulled the bait.  It was bittersweet, but my instincts kept me from taking the chance.  At that moment I chiseled the trolling motor free of ice and we pulled the plug on the quest.  Once again it was a day that I will never forget.  Most importantly, it leaves me wanting more.  How will the rest unfold?  I can only imagine.  Until then, keep on chasing your dream!

The Quest - Part 1

It's that time of the year again.  Cool temps and overweight women cruising below the surface of my favorite fall lake.  It really doesn't get any better than this!  Time to catch a record muskie!

Joining me on the first trip of the year was my father and his neighbor, Mike Masurka.  Two muskie crazed guys that wanted to see what all the big fish fuss was about.  Our mission was clear from the start - catch a state record muskie that tops the 54 pound mark.  The weather looked bleak, but the high sky was actually brewing up a perfect storm. 

It didn't take long to get the action rolling.  About 30 minutes into the day I had a monster chase me boatside.  It was big enough to make my knees shake.  The exact reason that I trek north so many times each fall.  Little did I know that I would soon be holding the beast in my hands.  As I swung the boat around for a 2nd chance, I was soon engulfed in full battle.  Giant headshakes left and right signaled that I had a big fish on the other end.  Soon, a monster broke the surface and my screems for the net were finally understood.  Moments seemed like an eternity, but I soon found myself staring at a fish that filled my entire net.  She was huge!

Next I wanted to verify what I had.  After all, making claims of a state record fish without properly measuring and calculation would be foolish.  The bump board revealed that she had a length of exactly 54 inches.  My tape measure read 24 when I took her girth.  Fat, but not obese.  Then my curiousity got the best of me.  I had a digital scale and took a step on it while holding the fish.  For anybody wondering what it really takes to land a state record muskie, a fat 54 incher with a solid 24 inch girth comes out to 44 pounds.  I'm sure that I could have been off a little bit in the rocking waves, but that gives a ballpark to how big the state record and a 54 pounder really needs to be.  It's astonishing!

As I released the beast we were ready for more.  After all, we were less than an hour into our day.  Next, it was Mike's turn.  Spot number two gave up fish number 2 and his first Mille Lacs muskie.  A nice fall fish that he proudly hoisted for a picture.  It wasn't his first muskie or largest, but it sure had sentimental value.

Location number 3 gave us another muskie strike.  Unfortunately, this one came unhooked.  I was in awe of the aggression the fish were showing.  Over and over I explained to Mike and my dad that this is not the norm for November.  A short while later I was hooked up again.  It turned out to be a muskie, but rather skinny and unusual for the big pond.  It had a very distint pattern, almost like a tiger.  I hand grabbed it and we snapped a quick pic to check out the colors and patterns. 

While the action continued, the rest are about the ones that got away.  My father and Mike each hooked up briefly one more time and we played with a few more giants boatside.  In total we saw 9 muskies, hooked 6 and landed 3.  That would be a good day in August, but in November I simply have to laugh and give thanks to God for the amazing action.  We didn't land a record, but it is definitely a day that we will never forget.  A monster came in the boat and the thrill of Mille Lacs in November lived up to the hype.  I'm sure I'll look back some day and say that was livin' the dream.  For now, it only fuels the fire and makes want to go back for more.  Unfortunately, I'll be out of town for the next 12 days and the fish will have to wait.  Hopefully, there is still a record swimming around when I return.  The "Quest" is what I live for every year.  The action today proves that it is totally possible.  Exactly why I label this, livin' the dream!

Birthday Bash!

Every trip is great.  Muskies rock, and life is good.  Sometimes, however, a trip can take on a special meaning.  Something ups the anty on the entire endeavor.  Last night was one of those trips.  I had a special birthday request and I was determined to hold up my end of the deal.

Muskies were the obvious choice.  Dan Becker, the birthday boy.  His partner was Jason.  I'm not sure if I spelled that correctly, but that doesn't matter much.  What mattered was the fact that I had two muskie virgins in the boat.  If a muskie is caught, it's going to be a first.  That in itself is a recipe for success. 

The wind was howling and the adrenline high.  It's all about the anticipation.  What could strike, and how big?  When would it happen, and would it be on the figure 8?  These were the self-admitted thoughts running through their mind.  I was told that 3 years of chasing muskies had yet to yield a fish.  Would today be the first?

As the sun set the wind increased even more.  I told them that I could feel it.  At the time I wasn't sure if "it" was a cold coming on, or a strike from a freshwater shark.  We moved from spot to spot awaiting the mayhem.  Then, just as if it was scripted in a movie, chaos broke loose.  In the dim light of a half lit moon, water was being tossed left and right.   The tell-tale sign of a big muskie on the line.  Man against beast, and man was in charge.  Sort of.  See, this chaos in the dark nearly pulled the lucky angler overboard.  With net in hand, I was useless to the cause.  

Dan, the birthday boy, stepped up and became the savior.  With zero time to spare, he raced to the back of the boat in time to grab his buddy Jason before he hit the water.    Curse words flew, but somehow the muskie remained hooked and the battle ensued.  Moments later the fish of a lifetime was in the net and laughter could be heard from one end of lake Minnetonka to another.  Just the way you would draw it up for a first time angler.  It may not have been textbook, but I wouldn't have changed a thing.  That is why muskie fishing rocks!  Congratulations on your very first muskie, Jason.  Happy birthday, Dan!  Until next time, keep on livin' the muskie dream!