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Muskie: The fish of 10,000 casts

A personal-best muskie after hours of driving, over a thousand casts, and a moment that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

[Editor's Note: The following is Owen Schonberger's account of his family fishing trip to Lake of the Woods for muskie. He wrote it for his high school English class.] It is a crisp cool morning on Lake of the Woods. Swooping white pines line the shore and weave to create a dense forest landscape. Cottages situated on the rock of the Canadian Shield scatter the lake. "Ready to go?" asks my dad as I sit on the dock, pondering. "Of course," I reply. My mom smiles. I've aspired to fish this lake since I was a little kid, never thinking that one day I might have a chance to fish it. This lake holds an abnormal amount of fish like no other. The Muskie: a large, elongated fish with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth that eats whatever fits in its mouth, and grows up to five feet long. I swing my legs off the dock as we await our guide, Darcy. His boat sparkles in the dawn, and lures shine from the rods set up on the deck. He walks down from his lakeside home and greets us with firm handshakes. "Nice to meet you." "Excited to get out," I say and take a seat in the back of the boat. Photo of Husky the Muskie in Kenora: Pamela Schonberger Muskie maneuvers My younger brother sits next to me and the 250 horsepower motor fires to life. We drive 45 minutes out to the first spot, passing hundreds of islands, and a beautiful landscape with the odd cottage nestled within the pines. I cast a large spinner and ensure that my technique is sound. Muskie do not eat lures the instant they see them, but follow them for as long as possible before making a decision to eat. This behaviour results in an adrenalin rush like no other. A grey monster follows the lure to the side of the boat. It turns wide due to its sheer size. Its face trails and inches behind the hooks, and just as soon as it comes, the fish disappears into the depths. Two hours pass at four different spots with no fish. We drive to the fifth spot, a rocky shoal in between two islands with a steep drop off. I cast towards the shallows, bringing the lure over the depths as I retrieve it. Dad casts an identical lure 20 feet

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