Every serious angler has had one or two of those moments- a time span that could be as little as a glimpse or extend to a long duration sighting -in their time on the water. There are some fish out there, mythical ones. Legendary in proportion. If you angle long enough, you'll run into them. Today the Noahs and I had an encounter with such a fish.
The lake we were fishing is one loaded with chain pickerel. These native Esox are the dominant fish in that body of water, which we three love. There are certainly bass, the beloved non-native, but the habitat here favors the pickerel. The water is more acidic and carries a dark natural stain. Its classic pickerel water. Most are small though, maybe 14 inches. 20 inchers aren't especially uncommon though, so we've put some time in after larger pickerel on this lake. The goal today wasn't specific though. There are plenty of crappie, bluegill and yellow perch to be had as well, and that was loosely my focus. Noah and Garth switched back and forth between panfish and pickerel presentations. The weather played just as fast and loose. Clouds came and went, as did wind. One moment it felt like it was in the 40's, the next the sun beating on my back made me want to shed a layer. A passing shower's cold wind hit us for a few minutes as the clouds denoting the outflow boundary darkened the sky over our heads, making us fight to hold our drift with the trolling motor.
It was shortly after that shower passed off to our north that the encounter happened. We'd been working our way up a dock line. The Noahs were casting shore-ward while I fish behind our drift, taking advantage of our slow speed to essentially troll for perch. I'd switched, though, when it happened. Noah had hooked a very small pickerel, maybe 10 inches if I saw things correctly. When he got it boat side what could only have been one of the largest pickerel in the world tried to eat the small one. It didn't even register as a pickerel to me. What I saw was it's diameter, which could best be described as leg-like. This was a pickerel that was honestly about as big around as my lanky thigh.The other two had a better look, and neither would argue that it was less than 30 inches. In fact we think it was quite a bit bigger. How believable is that? Not. I wouldn't believe you if you were telling me. Should you believe me? Shit, I don't know why you would. But we all know what we saw. It was a truly monumental chain pickerel. Record status. A fish of mythical status. A bit later Noah said "I feel strange now" and "I'll be thinking about that fish for a decade"... and I get it. I saw that fish, I know what that was. I've had a few similar encounters as well, mostly while fishing alone with nobody to confirm the validity of the story.
I compared it to seeing a gray alien out your window. Fish like this aren't real, you don't really see them. And yet for a moment you may find yourself in the very position we were in today. Try to absorb it. It's one of the most thrilling things in fishing.
We never saw that fish again. Garth got a pretty good one of about 24 inches later, Noah and I both got plenty to 20 inches. They felt extraordinarily insignificant.
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