The screen on the flasher, goes green, mental fist pump, something’s down there, that hasn’t been down there for well over an hour Softly glowing orange now, closer, closer, keep coming, oh glories it’s red, there’s a fish, finally. Now bite my dead minnow tipped spoon, come on, come on, maybe if I take it away. I lift, red disappears, dang there fussy, I exhale, rod snapped towards the hole, I tighten my grip, yeah, yeah, this one’s hooked good.
I’m instantly a kid catching my first fish. It’s a buck fever trembling in my hands and arms, I’ve caught loads of fish in life but this arm pulling from the deepest depths lake trout is underwater churning, it don’t want the up I want it to have. So I let it take drag, it slows, I reel line back, it takes off again, we back and forth dance as unseen partners and a fish of maybe 20 pounds is defiantly leading.
After many more minutes and believe me it’s a gradual gain, but the fish is lifting now, still grudgingly but I’m gaining after each session of tug-a-trout. My first glimpse, it’s a long laker, its over 15 pounds. I get its snout coming into the hole, my buddy fingers its gill and hauls its birthing onto the ice. It’s flopping and slapping. We’re high fiving; it’s a worm speckled leviathan. It went from green screen to orange to red, right back to the lake trout green in my shaking hands.
- The Trout Whisperer
