Lake M Musky!

Primary reasons for taking on the second job at the store were to meet some new fishing friends, to learn from them, and to get exposed to some new-to-me fishing experiences.  Ironically, my fishing has suffered from the job; I've simply been too busy to spend much time on the water.  Similarly, my co-workers aren't on the water very much, but we have shared some stories, past and present.  A couple of the guys I get along with best have serious Muskellunge Leanings; and one of them has made his living pretty much as a Musky Pro.  He was excited to relocate here from Eastern Minnesota ("Musky Heaven?") for this store, and he's openly shared his optimism about local musky fisheries, such as Lake M, with me.  Moreover, he's been out a couple of times and has seen many muskies in the shallows and has caught at least a few of them.  I've pretty much discounted the local musky scene based on our crowded lakes, my lack of experience and proper gear, and never hearing much of any good about these fisheries.  But, buoyed by his enthusiasm, and with a couple of lures he confirmed as good choices and a workable game plan, I targeted muskies for the first time this past Sunday.

I arrived at Lake M before 6 AM and was quickly on the water.  Conditions were clear and quiet, and I knew if I kept my Bucher Shallow Raider or Rapala Gliding Rap above emerging weeds in the shallows, I'd have a shot of at least raising a musky, or at perhaps encountering a big bass or pike as a consolation.  And so I enjoyed the first couple of hours exploring the lake, casting, and sharing the morning with a nice assortment of herons, cranes, waterfowl, song birds, turtles and mosquitoes.

Lake M has some undeveloped shoreline and was a pleasure to fish early in the morning.

Lake M is only 20 miles from home, but I've actively avoided it for the past 20+ years.  It's simply too developed and there's too much boat traffic for my taste.  But early on a Sunday morning, early in the season...conditions were pleasantly fine.

After a couple of hours of casting and a few re-locations without a hint of a fish, my confidence and hope were fading to a faithful reliance on luck when, unexpectedly (and bordering on unbelievably), I clearly sighted a nice muskellunge lying in a weedy bed in about 4 or 5 feet of water.  She was in water I'd already fished through with the Shallow Raider, and so I quietly turned off the electric trolling motor and glided past her.  I lost sight of her when I reached down for a rod equipped with a pitch bait; unable to find her, I threw my wacky-rigged Senko in what I hoped was her vicinity.  As I lost sight of my sinking Senko, I twitched it back up, and she re-appeared.  All lit up, she confidently inhaled my bait.  A lucky hook-set secured the small hook in the corner of her mouth, and after a nice struggle on my 8-pound test, she was boat-side and docile.

Now, my landing net is for harvesting fish, and I tend not to use it on fish I intend to release.  At an estimated 40 inches, she was too broad for me to grab by the shoulders, and she was still too green to gill her.  It was simply easiest, safest, and best for her to conduct a simple boat-side recovery and release.

Data - from the web!

She was clearly Numenon's biggest Esocid ever, and the above chart indicates a weight of about 18 pounds.  Just to have seen her was enough to make my day.  For my luck to hold through the subsequent, unlikely sequence of events (right lure, right cast, right reaction, lucky placement of the hookset and my thin, leaderless mono holding through the fight) indicates that she was clearly meant to be caught on this day.   I'm glad I was involved, and it was my pleasure to release her and watch her swim away.  The only things that could have made this better would have been to get a nice picture of her, or to have shared this experience with somebody else in my boat.  Oh well, these shortcomings can be addressed in future outings; and no picture would do justice to my ingrained memory of her visible strike.

This day's offerings; the wacky-rigged Senko was irresistible to a musky and a couple of bass.

I should probably consider retiring from musky fishing to preserve my 1.000 batting average.  They are, of course, The Fish of 10,000 Casts, and so I'm probably due for a very long slump.  I'm probably also not smart enough to recognize my advantage and avoid the process of things averaging themselves out.  So I'll probably be out there again, and I can certainly say that "Early Season Sight Fishing for Muskies" is now definitely on my Annual Fishing Calendar.

Back at the store on Sunday evening, I got to brag a little bit (which is always fun), but mostly I expressed my thanks to my co-workers for providing the motivation, confidence and advice to get me to try this new-to-me fishery.  My Musky Guru expressed his pride in me; when I reminded him that it was just a fish, he reminded me that it wasn't the fish he was proud of; it was in my effort.  We both agreed that the success (if catching a sub-legal fish can really be considered a success) is just a bonus.

Vajiggle-Jaggle Ain’t too Beautimous! And other West Michigan Musings

Honey Boo Boo and her Mama crept into my consciousness during a period of convalescence last year, and something the matriarch shared has stayed with me.  In reference to the appearance of customers at a local Summer’s Fair, she noted something very close to this; “Vajiggle-jaggle ain’t too beautimous!”  Pot/Kettle, Preacher/Choir, it’s too easy to even comment on the source of this statement, but her unique eloquence at the very least made this a memorable string of (almost) words, perhaps never before spoken in the History of Language.

Now Spring has sprung in West Michigan, and we’ve quickly transitioned from Winter to Summer.  Heating and cooling systems are lagging behind in response, and many public places (including the store) are simply too warm.  Folks, let me tell you, the coats are off, and the v-j is out!  And while such appearances might be uniquely American (at least in abundance and concentration), there’s a certain West Michigan contribution to this style.

My main employment is in a business building in the downtown of Michigan’s second largest and arguably most thriving city.  And yet I was recently confronted with the owner of a XXXXL Beauty School Sweatshirt.   I was awestricken by the irony of such an expansive article of clothing advertising a local Beauty School, but I was doubly stricken by the fact that it was, in fact, two sizes too small.

This reminded me of an electronic post card I’d received in the past.  The first screen depicted a French Beauty with “Paris, France!” as a caption.  I won’t describe the second screen, but let’s instead leave it to the imagination; just know that “Paris, Michigan!” served as the caption.

What’s this got to do with Numenon or Fishing?  On perhaps one of the most beautiful spring days in West Michigan history, one that was soon to become the most enjoyable Lake Michigan Weekday Brown Trout Fishing Excursion Ever, I stole away from work at noon to pick up my boat.  But first, I needed provisions, so I went to the local Subway.  This was several years ago, when Subway first started offering different breads.  I waited, second in line, while the Mountain of a Person in front of me discussed the relative health benefits of the various bread offerings with the Sandwich Artist.  After much hemming and hawing, a Combo Meal involving the 12-inch steak and cheese sub with chips was selected; but (to accommodate health aspects?) with a large Diet Coke!

A large Diet Coke!  

2013 Boating Season

The 2013 Boating Season has begun!  May 7 marks the latest ever start to the season for my boats.  With a 2013 maiden voyage on Reeds Lake, Numenon began her 11th season.  After a smokey start, she ran fine and fished well.

Water temps were already pushing 65 degrees, and the fishing was kind of slow.  I did take the first game fish of my season, but at 20 inches or so, this pike was a short of legal.  It ate a new Rapala F11 Scatter Minnow, and I had several other follows and bumps over the course of the evening. Crappies were making themselves known in the shallows, too, so I should have plenty of options by the time I get out again.

Finally... ahhhhhh, fishing!

The Nocebo Effect

The Nocebo Effect

I wish I’d come up with The Nocebo Effect concept, but I’ll have to admit that I ran across a blog on this topic with respect to risk analysis and environmental pollution.  The Nocebo Effect is the sibling of The Placebo Effect with which most are familiar.  The Placebo Effect describes the power of positive suggestion, so, for instance, some can experience measurable positive outcomes while taking sugar pills. The Nocebo Effect describes the power of negative suggestion; others can develop negative symptoms in the absence of the appropriate system stressor.  In the environmental realm, a certain portion of the population will develop exposure-type symptoms just based on the knowledge of that possibility.  If people are aware of the possible adverse effects, some will develop those effects even without exposure.  Both effects are real; but each targets a different set of the population.  Most folks are immune, while others subject to either Placebo or Nocebo.  What type of person are you?

I guess I’d declare myself to be an “Actively Recovering Nocebo”.  I used to literally worry myself sick; allergies, back aches and puking all come to mind.  I’ve always been interested in the idea of Self-Fulfilling Prophesy in a tragic sense.  I’ve been paralyzed to inaction, and my glass is usually half empty (and trending downward.)  For much of my life, I’ve been wary, cautious and naturally negative.

These are real manifestations of my world; but why should I do this to myself?   With awareness, can’t I strive to become Placeboed?  Why not avail myself to free, positive benefits?  It would be stupid not to, the equivalent of not matching my employer’s 401k contribution to the max.

This simple awareness of my nature and my acceptance of possible positive outcomes has been the framework for my current active recovery.   I'm not even exactly sure what I recovering from, but the sunshine emanating from my girls has motivated me to simply (try to) be a better person.  There have been plenty of opportunities for self-improvement, and some of these efforts have been fun as well as productive.  I'm proud of my recent self-declaration (with a question mark) of my optimism, and I can finally say that I genuinely care about others outside my family.  I've been cultivating more and deeper interests, I'm less concerned with outcomes, and way more involved with process.  I now notice, appreciate, and declare the good deeds of others,  I celebrate small victories and I don’t agonize over little set-backs.  I’m more accepting, tolerant and happier than in my not-so-long-ago youth.  Even if I'm "Placeboed", it's my placebo and real to me.  I’ll take it.

Now imagine a fishing trip; you get off to a late start, the weather is tough, and the lake of the day is hosting an unexpected tournament.  It’s not looking like the experience you’d imagined, and so you don’t have much confidence going in.  You fish without passion, don’t catch much, don’t enjoy yourself and go home.

Imagine another trip with the same conditions.  Because of the crowds and conditions you switch tactics.  You might not expect as much from Plan B, but each little success means more, and because this is a learning situation, it’s more interesting and you fish with more passion and concentration.  Because you’re fishing harder and smarter, you’ll likely have more success; this cycle will build on itself and you’re likely to have a good day.  Moreover, it’s a day you can build future, better experiences upon.

I've been on both trips.  I know which trip I’d rather go on.  How about you?

Beers, Crankbaits, and Days Offshore (Standard Economic Units)

Beers, Crankbaits, and Days Offshore (Standard Economic Units)

I don’t think I’m cheap, but I might be considered frugal by some; or thrifty by others.  I’m willing to spend, but the bottom line is that I do like to think that I know what I’m getting for my money.  I’ve been thinking about the evolution of the units I use to help in that All-American Decision, “Should I buy this thing?”  I can’t really judge the value of a coin or a dollar; and that probably indicates a personal yet wide-spread problem with the underlying assumptions in economics.  But I can estimate the personal value/enjoyment of a possible purchase in terms of items that have specific value to me.  And so most of my purchases are evaluated in terms of my set of personally-adopted, standardized economic units.  Here are a few examples of how I think about my discretionary spending:

The Beer

This used to equate to about $1, but maybe should be adjusted to about $3.  I usually don’t have to think too hard about purchases in this range, but I used to; and that experience provides practice for the occasions when I might be trying to stretch a Twenty through the weekend or some such situation.  What my decision-making boils down to is will I enjoy having this item as much as I’d enjoy a cold, frosty beer?  I’m no alcoholic, so plenty of times, the answer is “Yes!”  But if an item means less to me than having a relaxing beer, I probably don’t need it.  Interestingly, the Beer later became my standard unit of exercise; how hard did I have to work, for how long, to burn off how many Beers?

The Beer

The Crankbait

This is where (I hope) my true nature shows through; the Crankbait used to equate to about $5, but is probably due for an adjustment to about $10.  How much happiness would ownership of that shiny new crankbait provide?  New shoes cost a trolling spread?  That dinner out cost how many of the newest Rapalas?  Meanwhile, my tackle boxes are probably more impressive than my bank statements.

The Crankbait

OK, these sorts of decisions don’t really amount to much (although they can certainly add up!)   But how much can I comfortably have in my wallet; what would hurt me to lose?  I’d propose about $100, which I’ll dub the Reel.   What’s my max for spending without consultation?  Probably about $500, or the Fishing Weekend, I think.

The Day Offshore

This is my $500 to $1000 unit.  It’s not referenced every day, but rather is reserved for special occasions.  Car repairs, unexpected plumbing problems, failed garage doors and all of life’s not-so-little-and-yet –not-catastrophic expenses fall into this category.  I perceive all of these as taking away my ability to afford dreamy days offshore; and I really think before buying discretionary items (electronics, furniture, and so forth) in this category.  This is the current Standard Unit for my second job.  How many Days Offshore (or their equivalent) will I accumulate a year?  Will my efforts be worth it?

Returning from an exhilarating Day Offshore.

Beers, Crankbaits and Days Offshore; these I can understand and value.  On their basis and availability, I make my common economic decisions.  There are other denominations, too, such as the Vacation, the Boat, and the House; but I don’t deal with those too often.

Jackie Says…

Maybe you recall my previous reference to Jackie Chiles, Seinfeld! Super-Lawyer.  If not, an August 2012 post admires his way of thinking and talking about topics in “threes”.   Here are a few thoughts on what Jackie might be currently Pullulating! Ruminating! And Fulminating!, or positions he might be Querying! Preparing!  And Declaring!

Affluence!  Influence!  and Virulence!

These are political times.  I’m not an overly political guy.  But it’s pretty obvious to me that a common pattern is emerging at local, state and national levels.  Those with the affluence have the influence.  And too often, that influence is used in seemingly misguided, self-interested endeavors.  We’re all subject to the resultant virulence of these bad ideas, and recovery might be slow.  Wars, financing, (lack of) oversight, meddlesome self-interests, term limits, (lack of) campaign finance reform, suspicion of science and experiments with our children’s education; I could go on, but I suspect these are ageless social issues that will never be resolved to everybody’s mutual satisfaction.  But have we generally forgotten about any premise of personal obligations to do what’s best in the main, at least occasionally?  Have we forgotten that it’s OK to develop and defend your own opinion?  Or that not everything is for sale; and that it’s not the right of those who are able to simply buy societal outcomes or public resources?

Flexibility!  Understandability! and Enforceability!

Here’s a concept that’s been pretty key to my work, but that I think applies to our daily lives and dealings with others.  Our lives would be simpler if the “rules” we live by were universally flexible, understandable, and enforceable.  We’d have options, we’d know our obligations, and we’d understand and be able to anticipate outcomes and consequences.   Of course, when you think about it, each of these concepts thrives, to varying degrees, at the expense of the other two.  So a flexible rule is probably complex and difficult to enforce; an understandable rule would likely be simplistic and either over-reaching or too narrow in scope so as to be effective; and an enforceable rule, if understandable, is likely rigid; and if flexible, likely incomprehensible.  Our rules and guidance in the Real World are a precarious balance of these traits; a 3-legged stool on which we rest.  Too much expansion or attrition in any particular direction will upset the balance and utility of the stool; politicians, regulators, parents, partners and fair-minded citizens should all keep this in mind.

Catostomids!  Ictalurids! and Cyprinids!

But hey, this is supposed to be about fishing, so let’s at least recognize these three families of so-called “trash fish” as being wonderful additions to local fishing options.  And while they may not generally represent my main quarry, they’re always a welcome purfling to my primary pursuits.  I can’t say I’ve ever been disappointed at catching a sucker, catfish or carp.  And let’s face it, my First Choice in 2013 (in open water) was the pursuit of suckers; and some of the largest fish I’ll encounter this season might very well be catfish and carp.  It’s hard to argue with the value afforded by their collective availability, accessibility, and simplicity of their pursuit.  So enjoy each one, recognize their unconventional beauty, treat them with respect, and don’t be afraid to admit that you love them.

Suckers!

Catfish!

Carp!