This map gives you a visual representation of the excitement that was opening night.

Fishing for walleye is often a game of chance. We’ve all had tough days on the water, and the majority of mine have come in the form of night time walleye fishing. When these fish aren’t around and aren’t biting, prepare yourself for a long night or in our case a long weekend.

We started off at Muskrat Bay just past Oneida shores on the southwest corner of the lake. Me and Juice got to work early and claimed a staging area. Pretty soon the shoreline filled with lanterns and various father son fishing teams. As the dusk drew nearer, we waited patiently for the walleye to begin migrating into shallower water.

This largemouth was caught at dusk on a Storm Thunderstick Jr.

This migration never happened, the whole area was dry. We were the only people in eyesight to catch anything at all. It wasn’t the illusive walleye on our lines though. A couple of largemouth gave us some short lived excitement. Things quickly went downhill from here.

Inspector Gadget catches a large mouth literally right after I do. Go go gadget Rapala Minnow!

The next couple of hours were spent casting blindly in the dark. I watched lantern, after lantern across the shore line dim. People were giving up on the walleyes I was about ready to give up too. Luckily I was left with some last minute entertainment.

A beater pulled up to the far gravel lot. Larry, Curly and Moe (work with me here.) got out of what I could accurately pin as a 1992 Caprice Classic. Larry strolled over with his flashlight in hand Shining his light beam in the water searching for walleye. He gets nearly on top of me and shines his light at the water directly in front of me. “There’s one!” He shouts, “There’s a walleye about uh… four feet in front of you!”

Sure I’m legally blind, but thanks to the polymers suctioned cupped to my eyeballs I enjoy nearly 20/20 vision. I’ll be damned if this guy saw a walleye four feet in front of me. Regardless I muttered something under my breath and Larry continued being obnoxious patrolling the shore line with his light of fear. Moe stood behind me waxing philosophical about the glory days.

He pointed to a spot on the lake with his chubby finger.  Booze and body odor wafted toward me with each and every one of his spoken words. “…When I was a kid I caught a pike there! That drain pipe there that’s where all the baitfish is. The other side no one fishes that, I’ve caught bass there, walleye, all sorts a stuff…” Alright slow down there hoss, one thought at a time. From what I understand you’re related to the legendary Bill Dance?

This commercial was also very prevalent in my thoughts:

Now people I want to be clear, I’m usually not so misanthropic. It basically comes down to fishing etiquette and knowing that there’s a time and place for everything. So take note, there’s never a time or a place to walk right up next to someone you don’t know on shore, speaking loudly and pointing your light around in the water claiming to see imaginary fish.

They were finally done harassing Juice and I, we watched them walk back to the Caprice. To their credit they did wish us luck, and then peeled off blasting their bass loudly. It was the equivalent of telling someone “Have a nice day,” and then throwing a pie (Double Dare anyone?) directly at their face. It was time to raise the white flag. Clearly my patience for all things had been exhausted.  We headed back home and wished for better luck tomorrow.