The perch was not what I set out to catch. As it turned out, to my recall, probably the best perch fishing I ever had. I was bragging all week about my new found walleye Mecca, so in an attempt to show off my daytime walleye fishing expertise, I soughed across the snow, two daughters of eve in tow.

Thirty six degrees in late February with a cloudless, brilliantly blue sky should have been the trophy, but with fishing, it’s always one little victory after another with the correct frame of mind. I walk and just keep gaining line.

I auger holes and set a half moon fence of three tip-ups to guard us from marauding northern pike. These big minnows will hopefully protect are small walleye finesse jigs. Fences are a two sided deal; I set this to keep the pike away, in retrospect I think it held one fish specie corralled in.

Flapping over the pine tree shrouded shore floats a croaking raven. It’s a blackbird against a blue sky and a black bird above the dazzling white snow. It’s a chortle, maybe an aerial flirt, definitely bird music sent down to the ground and I stop, just to soak it up. Scanning the frozen lake surface my eyes catch the blaze orange flag. I run.

Slowly I lift the tip up, check for line tension, yes the fish is there, okay, I’m slowly gathering slack, fingers tighten, and whack, I set the hook. I pull it tugs. Ah, it’s the gold medal of fish, since it’s a walleye.

We have a fishing neighbor who wants to see are good fortune. What we are using. How deep, and what color jig. I dole out my wisdom. Just by his asking, I get a touch of glory. If this gets much better I’m gonna bust.

The girls each have a bite and the rods are dancing. Moments before they were both chattering away. The hook in the fishes mouths, has suddenly closed there’s. First one, then the other, we have two perch flopping on the snow. Volume on girls goes way up, raven silent, dad feeling smug.

Within minutes the girls are catching one portly perch after another. The ice is confetti’ed with our success. Green and yellow fat bellied perch chomping at the bit to join us up top. Flippery minnows, giggly girls, and the blue ribbon must go to this generous green fish.

I quietly accept the award for choosing this lake. This place on the lake. The incredibly good luck were having, and to have been endowed with such extraordinary weather on a Saturday to be enjoying the great outdoors. I feel like I won an Irish fishing sweepstakes.

Frying the dredged fillets to a golden color, whisked to the dinner table we dine on the delicate firm white flesh. Its tarter sauce and lemon. Salted potatoes ingested and rinsed into us with tall glasses. I hoist the chalice to toast the day. We eat more, and then some more, and finally we have eaten it all. You talk about full and satisfied. I am happy. Up to here with my worlds an okay place. Fishing just keeps letting me win.

The Trout Whisperer

Inside the Mind of a Guide

Living the Dream in God's Country - Superior National Forest

Join author, professional guide, and master storyteller, Karl "Trout Whisperer" Seckinger, as he takes you on a 20 year, mystical journey into the Superior National Forest.

On this CD, Trout Whisperer's unique manner of storytelling, and digital sound effects, will transport you on a journey that will place you in the heart of the 'super natural forest' that is known as the Superior National Forest.

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