My 1st Mack
Fly fishing is my first love—for me, nothing beats gearing up and working a section of the Truckee River. But when my buddy Brad asked if I wanted to go fishing for Mackinaw, a fish I’ve never landed, of course I said yes. Any fisherman who has seen some of the beasts Brad and his kids have caught would willingly sacrifice a pinkie finger to the Fishing Gods for a chance at a 20-plus pound catch.
And though my first Mackinaw didn’t tip the scales at 20 pounds, I did land two fish over 10 pounds, two beefy lunker lake trout that took more than eight minutes to land each. We had two fish shake off that were equally beefy, and in all we landed seven fish in about six hours of fishing. It was an extremely memorable day to be sure.
Getting up at 3:30 a.m. to get on the water at daybreak wasn’t much fun, especially since I usually get to bed around midnight. Despite our early efforts, we were the second boat to arrive at the lake. But since the first group had problems with their battery, ours was the first boat on the water. When we set off it was butt-ass cold, about 29 degrees, and the lake was shrouded in an eerie, icy fog that made the temperature much colder.
We moved to one end of the lake and started a trolling run. Brad uses large lures to catch big fish, and our efforts were rewarded in the first hour with what turned out to be our best fish of the day, a thick, 11-pound Mackinaw. Fighting this beast sure burnt the muscles in my hands and forearms! Acting as both cameraman and coach, Brad helped me guide my first 10+ pounder to the boat’s gunwales, and I gave a large sigh of relief when he finally netted the fish. Trying to hold this awesome monster still for a few quick photos was like trying to holding a squirming python—when it moved, I had to follow with my whole upper body lest it wriggle free. After some memorable photos we got the fish back in the water and watched it swim safely back to deeper waters.
Did I mention it was cold? I thought I would be fine with long johns, underarmor, a hoodie and a jacket, but when Brad zipped us back to the east end of the lake for another trolling run he had me poke my head above the windshield to spot for that second boat (the lake was still completely fogged in) I swear my eyeballs froze solid. A few winters ago I snowboarded at Heavenly Mountain Resort when it was 10 below, and that was nowhere near as cold as traveling 25 miles per hour in that frigid pea-soup fog.
During that second run we missed a fish that was big enough to break the line out of the downrigger clip, and after that trolling tapered off, so about mid-morning we decided to spot fish using the boat’s electronics and drop some jigs down on their heads. When it comes to jigging, Brad is a freaking ninja. On past fishing trips when he busted out his homemade jigs the net got wet at least once every 10 minutes. I’m used to the hard strike of a trout hitting a fly, not the soft kiss of a fish lipping a jig, but my perseverance paid off with another big Mackinaw that tipped the scale right at 10 pounds. Put another way: Boo-yah!
We landed a few smaller fish jigging and caught another seven-pound Mack trolling to round out our day’s catch. We released each fish, and I hope to catch them next year when they are a few pounds heavier.
My first trip for Mackinaw was one of the best fishing trips I’ve ever been on. I’ve known Brad for more than 30 years (we grew up in the same neighborhood), and I’ve always enjoyed fishing with him. The fishing is on fire, and it’s nice to just chill in the boat with a longtime friend and talk about kids, wives, and life. Although I love to gear up with waders, staff and fly rod and pit my knowledge against a river, New York Jets Linebacker Bart Scott put it best when it comes to fishing with Brad: “Can’t Wait!”
Rob Sabo
