I had just come in an hour earlier from an unsuccessful nighttime outing. I stopped into the bar for a beer and a bump and some evening Musky talk with the other regulars at Indian Trail Resort. There weren’t but four or five folks in the bar and I nestled in among the group at the end of the bar to get the day’s action report. There had only been one fish registered that day but there had been missed opportunities. The conversation shifted to night fishing conditions. Although the night was moonless, the sky was clear and the stars of the Milky Way painted the sky, reflecting their light off the smooth surface of the water that was like glass as a result of the wind lessness of the evening. No one had seen any action this evening. We theorized that the clear sky and bright stars were not the optimal conditions for feeding Musky who seem to like it a bit gloomier. I can remember Scott Allen saying that he thought that a little cloud cover would be just what we needed to scare up a little action. I was going to call it a day but as I stepped out of the bar, I glanced up at the night sky. The stars were no longer visible and the ‘bar talk’ echoed in my ears. As I pulled away from the dock and headed into the pitch, I could see Scott and a couple of others from the bar heading for their boats also. Slicing through the pitch-black night, I made my way to Three Sisters using the faint outlines of the tree lines as navigation aids.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy ODA4MA==