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In the fishing world there is a company that produces stick baits. Internationally famous so I will skip mentioning their name and mine in the same sentence so as not to cast a dark shadow. They probably do not want my kudos as I killed one of their lures.

This past weekend I took a fresh one with its glossed paint job and razor sharp trebles out of the package in my favorite perch pattern. I gave it a once over and chose this particular six inch long lure based on its short diving blade, factory installed, and supposedly hand tuned to guarantee success. I wanted a short blade so it wouldn’t dive deep into the weed beds I was cruising over and along side of.

The first cast I hooked a northern pike that that was about as long as the lure. It was a fish. It worked. In less than ten minutes I hooked yet another but larger. My rod was yanked tip deep in the water before I could properly react. I recovered to set the drag and hang on. The fish of perhaps seven pounds rip jerked line and dove with powerful wrenching runs. I held a stout rod and in the end netted the fish.

First I freed the fish from the treble hooks. Then I untangled the other hooks from the landing net. I looked at the stick bait. Two trebles needed to be fixed with my pliers. The damage applied by the pikes jaw was impressive. Several small scars sawed into the paint job. I was thinking this is a nice fishing plug to be sure.

In the next hour I caught and released six additional northern pike. The lure deteriorating in each successive attempt. The paint was almost gone from mid lure to the tail. I had straightened at least one set of trebles each time after the mauling received from the maws of the fish. The lure was loosing its luster but improving in fish catching ability. Not something the manufacture would probably like to hear.

On my next pass, past the point of no return I hit what I thought was a snag. The lure locked, the rod bent to the stern and the drag was a hard slow almost line snapping taughtness. I threw the motor in reverse to keep from loosing the lure.

When the rod swung away from shore out to mid lake I was dumbfounded. Never had a snag run before. Then it occurred to me that I had a big, big, big, big, big, fish. Brain was stuck on big. The rod is arc’d, I’m arched and my cigar was clamped.

It tugged and lunged. It dove, ran and dived. Took line and came in as I reeled until it changed the reels mind. The rod followed its lead. Just below the lake surface and almost out of sight I caught a glimpse of the back of the fish as it went past the starboard side. I got the feeling the fish, was looking to see how big the competition in the boat was. It was a purposeful run of the fish right along and parallel to my little boat, and then it went ballistic.

The jaws opened and water spurted. The tail slapped and water whipped. A northern Minnesota northern pike put on a fresh water fishing clinic with one lone student. Me.

When I went to net the pike it used all the fabric. I put my fish gloves on and untangled the mangled. My brand new lure was missing the back one inch. The tail treble now missing showed a black piece of wire. Paint was shredded from mid lure to the “new” tail section. The only treble looking serviceable was the front and it was mashed to a double hook instead of its original tri configuration.

They made one heck of a lure. It did what it was supposed to do, it lured fish into striking. Even now I’m amazed at how well it worked. This lure was the ticket. The funny thing is the more it stopped looking and working as originally planned, the bigger fish it produced. Maybe it was one of those days where I could have thrown anything, I don’t know. I’ll never know, because I killed the lure.

I retired what was left of the stick bait. I am mailing its bones back to the company with my compliments. Im going to sign the letter of thankful praise, anonymously yours,

the trout whisperer

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