From opening day of the fishing season to the Minnesota bass-opener can be the hardest two weeks of a basser's life. The smell of two-cycle oil floats in the air, the shores are beaming with spawning bass, but a basser can only watch from shore waiting for his moment to strike. I used to be the stubborn ol' basser - not willing to get a line wet until the official opening of bass. Forget about all those other toothy critters - waste of my time. I wanted bass and bass only. If I wanted to spend my days drowning worms, I'd have more fun doing it with a bottle of tequila than from the fishing boat. That was until I found the northern pike.
Ferocious - the only word I can think of to describe these razor sharp tooth slimy guys. They don't just hit a lure - they destroy it. Often times, I'll fish for northern using spinnerbaits tossed into the reeds. There's no question when a northern grabs hold of your lure - you can feel its teeth scrape across the metal blades all the way back to your rod handling. The feelings tingles your spine like fingernails down a chalkboard. Then the fight is on. Unlike a bass or walleye trying to swim away from the lure and make a hasty escape, a northern is bent on killing or at a minimum incapacitating your lure before it makes a retreat - it doesn't try to escape; it's stay to fight an maim. A heart pounding fight ensues, as the northern tries to rip your rod from your hands with headlong tugs at the line. The fish tosses about like a rodeo bull hell-bent on the death of a cowboy. It seems that for every crank of the reel, four-feet of line is dragged out by the muscle-bound beast. That's all a northern is - two slabs of bone riddled muscle. Just keep holding on and mind your line.
No fish is as tenacious of line buster as the northern pike. If it's not ripping across your line with it's razor like teeth, or getting tangled in your line as it thrashes about, it's sheer power is enough to make the toughest of line look like 4-lb mono trying to hold back a speeding truck. It's not often I'll spend the money on a today's super lines or braids, but if it's northern I'm after, then nothing less will do.
If I'm lucky enough to survive the battle, and keep my line intact, the disappointment of the northern pike is revealed. Like the Republican Guard under relentless U.S. bombing, a northern do nothing more than rollover and give up. Of the hundreds of northern making it to my boat, most have come in lying on their back. They fight fierce, but tire quickly. Only one last challenge exists - getting the fish into the boat.
Something about another threat sets off the northern. They seem to get their second wind. As soon as they see the white of your eyes as you lean over to lift them into the boat they're thrashing again. Some will make a good run away from your boat, while others just have enough energy for a final thrashing in hopes of sticking you with a treble hook that was earlier embedded in them. In all of my years of fishing, I've had only two fish hooks buried in the meat of my hand - both were a result of trying to land a northern.
Following is the taming of the beast - that horse has been saddled. A winded fish lies parallel to the boat. A well-placed hand behind the fish's head is all it takes to bring it to the boat. Gently work a needle nose around any hooks hung up in the pike's teeth, and dislodge. Quickly get the fish back into the water. Holding the northern's tail section, pull it back and forth in the water. This will get oxygen back into the fish's lungs. With a slap of its tail, as to say 'thank you for not eating me', the northern is gone.
In it's wake you're left with slimed hands and an adrenaline rush that's hard to let go. There's also a 3/8oz chunk of twisted metal and blades in front of you that you used to call your spinnerbait. In fact, before that last cast you're willing to bet that spinnerbait had a skirt on it. Northern simply obliterate these things. So I can tell stories of catches past, I keep a few of these mangled metal marvels in my tackle box, just so I can pull one out and trade war stories with my fishing friends.
Ferocious and mean - a line breaker and lure mangler - the northern pike is a fine substitute for a real fish. It's not bass fishing, but for those two weeks out of the year when I can't chase my favorite fish, it will do. So, tighten up your life vest and grease those reels. Your fishing season - like mine - just started two weeks earlier.
Ferocious - the only word I can think of to describe these razor sharp tooth slimy guys. They don't just hit a lure - they destroy it. Often times, I'll fish for northern using spinnerbaits tossed into the reeds. There's no question when a northern grabs hold of your lure - you can feel its teeth scrape across the metal blades all the way back to your rod handling. The feelings tingles your spine like fingernails down a chalkboard. Then the fight is on. Unlike a bass or walleye trying to swim away from the lure and make a hasty escape, a northern is bent on killing or at a minimum incapacitating your lure before it makes a retreat - it doesn't try to escape; it's stay to fight an maim. A heart pounding fight ensues, as the northern tries to rip your rod from your hands with headlong tugs at the line. The fish tosses about like a rodeo bull hell-bent on the death of a cowboy. It seems that for every crank of the reel, four-feet of line is dragged out by the muscle-bound beast. That's all a northern is - two slabs of bone riddled muscle. Just keep holding on and mind your line.