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SOMEWHERE ALONG THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER - "I've never fished here when the water has been this high," said Lindy Frasl of Fort Ripley, Minn., as he glanced up and down the turbulent waterway, white foam swirling.
It was shortly before midnight on Friday. Lindy has fished this stretch of the Mississippi, starting at midnight, before, just as we were about to do. For Greg Kretzman of Baxter, Minn., and me, this was a fresh fishing venture.
Weatherwise, it was a bit blustery. Light rain was falling, and a moderate wind blew from the north. The temperature was in the low 40s. The three of us concurred it would be an extremely uncomfortable midnight opener for those who chose to venture out in a boat. Fishing afoot allows one to keep the blood moving and the fingers and toes warm.
As Friday the 13th turned to Saturday the 14th, we began plying the dark waters, casting mostly jigs tipped with plastic twister tails, a lure Lindy had used successfully in the past.
A day earlier Lindy and I has scouted these waters during daylight. We had mentally marked several eddies and current breaks, knowing those subtleties in the ragging torrent would not be so obvious in the darkness, even with use of flashlights.
Surprisingly we weren't alone along this portion of the river. In fact, two of our potential best spots were taken by other anglers, proving our scouting foray even more important.
The first hour of fishing came and went. No fish, not even a bite. We hooked trees, brush and rocks, but the walleyes remained elusive. We split up, moving upstream and downstream, trying to find those little spots where a walleye or two would take refuge from the raging current.
Lindy was the first to land a walleye. "There's a little seam in the current formed by that big tree overhanging the river," Lindy said. "The current break is right next to the bank. When I set the hook, the fish flew out of the water." Shortly he landed another walleye. Both fish had bit on an eighth-ounce pink jig tipped with a white twister tail.
Night fishing and line tangles go hand in hand. We each had brought along an extra rod and reel, and we needed them. Avoiding those dreaded twisted line loops that occur when using spinning reels is difficult enough in daylight, but casting into the blackness of the wee hours of Saturday, tangles were plentiful.
Earlier that day I had filled two spinning reels with a new fishing line, a "superline," one that the manufacturer claimed reduced line twist. Yeah, right. Several times during the night I knelt along the river bank, attempting to align head lamp and bifocal glasses on twisted balls of fishing line while I struggled to unravel the messes. My profanities, I hope, were muffled by the gushing river.
I finally got on the board, fishwise, about 1:30. The walleye was on the small side, but I envisioned its flesh fried to a golden brown, impaled on a fork. "A good eater," I rationalized.
And so the night went. We'd catch two or three walleyes in a few minutes, then there would be a lull, followed by another brief spurt of action. Most of the walleyes we caught were within a few feet of the bank in tiny seams in the current just a few feet wide.
By the time the birds started singing, our catch totaled 16 walleyes. All were males, each weighing within an ounce or two of the others. Lindy got the prize for the most fish. In the gathering dawn, we walked toward the truck, rain became heavier and the wind picked up. Time to head home for some much-needed sleep in a warm bed.
The three of us agreed, with a walleye dinner on our minds, the choice to open at midnight was a good one.
Bill Marchel
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