Who doesn’t love a good underdog story? As long as “my team” isn’t the one playing the underdog, I almost always cheer for the underdog. It lets us mere mortals feel like we have a chance no matter what comes our way.

Fishing on any weekend during nice weather leaves me feeling a little like I should have stayed home. Lines at boat launches, people who don’t know how to launch (or retrieve) a boat, wake boats, jet skiers, and just generally people being where I don’t like them to be. I tend to enjoy the retired mid-week crowd who wants the same thing I do. A quiet lake, a few fish, and maybe a chance to talk to someone else about how the fishing has been without being rushed. Although the weekend crowd does make the best comedy.

Being a weekend warrior at heart though, I find myself on the water whenever I can. This takes us to my two least favorite times to be on the water; Memorial Day weekend and Fourth of July weekend. The strategy here is to be early to the launch, and leave before the lunch crowd arrives. The most recent Memorial Day started like many others. A two-family fish fry was planned and in my typical fashion decided there were fish to be caught, so I won’t worry about thawing any for the late afternoon cook-out. I recognize this causes a little anxiety for the planners out there, but I had plans. People who fish can tell you that positivity and confidence (read that as faith) are essential pieces of tackle.

The plan started with me knowing it was a mid-day trip, with about 2 hours to catch enough fish to feed 9 people. Two anglers from the other family joined me on my boat, and we set out on the lake to some likely spots. Knowing we wanted pre-spawn males only we set up on a drop-off joined by a weedline. Male panfish congregate in these places to prepare to move shallow to create redds (commonly called beds). As a part-time fishing guide I always have it programmed to set everyone else up first. After I accomplished this, I put together my 3-weight fly rod, tied on a size 14 elk hair caddis fly, and on my second or third cast connected on a large panfish. As I was stripping in line to bring the fish to hand, I felt a sudden stop. “Eh, he’s caught in the weeds” I said. Then I could see something white below the boat, and then “my” panfish laying sideways on the bottom of the lake. Still feeling tension on the line, I pulled to free it from the weeds. It pulled back.

Knowing this lake has Great Lakes muskellunge in it, and I knew almost immediately what I had on. I immediately checked my watch. I knew this would either be over very quickly, or I would want to know how long this battle lasted. I could be wrong on my timeline, but I believe in the first two minutes I told my boat crew that this probably would not end with a fish in the boat. Shockingly, on the puny 3-weight rod, size 14 fly, and 5 lb test tippet I fought this fish for 18 minutes. I chased it with my boat for well over 100 yards, I saw it several times as it came to the surface, and each time wondered how this was happening. Thankfully, one of the crew videoed intervals of the entire sequence. Including the one where the annoyed musky went airborne and threw the hook. All I could do was laugh. In situations where I knew I had a chance to land a fish, I am usually not so pleased. In this situation no one would have predicted a victory, not even me.

I shrugged it off, and we went back to catching enough fish for a fish fry. With video sent to fishing friends, fish cleaned and fried, and the dust settling on the day I was still left wondering, who was the underdog here?