Natchez Shooter's Supplies

Natchez Shooters Supplies

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Tournament Walleye Fishing

As mentioned, I have been away from home since 1995.  Since I have been away, I can count on one hand how many times I have fished for walleye in Minnesota.

So now that I'm back, I immediately rekindled my friendship with one of my favorite fishing partners, Wes.  Wes lives the life of a fisherman and general outdoorsman and I really appreciate his attention to detail when he fishes.  We have a really cool friendship off the water and on, but when we are on the water we are always on the same page and I can't recall ever having an argument --- well maybe we snapped at each other when he crashed his Bronco in a muddy field and I broke my nose during a drunken adventure --- but that was the only time.

Anyways...  Now that I'm back, Wes has been fishing these big walleye tournaments and now he has asked me to partner with him for a national qualifier this weekend.  I'm excited beyond belief, but I'm also nervous.  I've been fly fishing for the past 15 years and now he's the expert in doing what we used to do.  To be honest, I'm just excited to hold a walleye.  If I get one or two fish, I'll be having a hell of a time, but Wes won't be satisfied with a couple eaters.  He wants big fish and this is serious business.

So I will be up at 3am on Saturday to fish a two-day tourney and I'll update with pictures and results.  I hope Wes kills it and I hope I bring a surprise or two to the boat.  If all my walleye skills prove rusty, I at least know that I'm one hell of a net guy.

Fish on.  Can't wait to hear those words.

Back in Minnesota

I have been away from home a while.  Man.... has it really been since August of 1995? 

I have been wetting a line all over the west for the past 17 years and I'm excited to get my fly rod out in MN.  I'll post back when I get my first shot at some of the beautiful water and fish within 2 hours of my new home.

Hello, Mr. Steel

Standing thigh-deep in water that is somehow still liquid for 10 hours isn't for those who have wandering minds. For me, the focus comes easy. My thoughts were zoned in on what was swimming in that water and how my rod would feel in my arm when I connected.

Two days on the water without a fish and not an ounce of disappointment. I fish with shoulders that shouldn't be happily casting these 3 big hunks of lead and I don't feel a thing. Anticipation with every cast, and it just keeps building and building.

A long hike through Grizzly Country brought us to a narrow section of the river that had a promising run and where we could cross to the other side to fish it properly. There was a deep tongue of water that was probably about 20 feet long with boulders on top and bottom. Not a great looking run, but it looked deep and fairly fast.

I jumped in and hammered away at the top of the run and let my bead swing up a bit at the end of the drift. I broke off my rig a couple times with the help from a snaggy rock up top. I think the constant casting was getting into my head --- "Am I deep enough? I can feel bottom..... Should I swing a classic steelhead wet fly or keep trying this bead?"

In an instant, the doubts were obliterated by the ghost that stopped my drift and welcomed me to my first steelhead battle. At first, I was absolutely shocked by the power and the meaningful head shakes. My 8wt felt like a noodle and I really wasn't doing much in the way of moving him. And then I saw that beautiful fish and my heart just about blew through my chest. I hardly remember a thing after seeing the fish, but I'm pretty sure I had "control" of the situation with my low rod tip, sideways pressure and unusually calm demeanor considering the circumstances. And then my first steelhead decided to give me a memory instead of a handshake and it was gone. Gone. I really think, for a moment, that was the saddest single moment of my life.

We were all encouraged. To see a fish and finally hook up changed all of our moods. After a couple quick shots of Crown and a refreshed Skoal, I was back at it.

5 minutes later, I was hooked up again. I now know the feeling. I know the power. I know that I can back up and get control of this thing instead of getting led around like a bitch. I'm sure it helps that the first fish was over 30" and this was about 23", but it didn't matter. I was going to hold and release my first steelhead and that was that. After falling back into the bushes and still managing to keep my rod in fairly good position, my buddy Matt tailed my first steelhead and handed it over to me.....

I haven't had a smile that big and genuine since I was a baby and didn't know any better. I was in awe of the strength and feeling of the fish --- muscle and pure power. This girl was all chrome and exceeded all my expectations. We snapped off a quick picture and she rocketed back into the surprisingly productive hole. I splashed some of that cold water on my face and happily accepted the high fives and whiskey shots from my boys.

All in all, I ended up landing 4 and hooking 6. I describe it as pure panic and torture until you get the fish in your hands. I'm hooked and that's it --- I'm a changed man.