We were 16 or 17 years old and avid fisherman. Living in North York, a suburb north of Toronto, we didn’t get out fishing too often, but we tried to go as often as we could. I remember skipping school one day and taking the bus to a river to fish. I caught a beautiful brown trout, and wanted to take it home, but had to release it because I couldn’t come home from school with a fish.

We loved to catch bass and we were good at it. My friend Dino had a cottage on a lake called Bass Lake in Orillia, and when we would go there we’d catch 20-30 bass in a weekend, and we knew that was more than any of the other fishermen on the lake.

Either Dino or my other fishing friend, Gus, discovered Mussleman Lake just a 30-35 drive from our houses, and we had a new favourite spot to go to, close to home. We would bass fish in the shallows of this small, but deep lake every weekend that we could get there. Sometimes we’d just wade through the water for hours, waist deep with our shoes on. Other time’s we’d rent an aluminum row boat to paddle around the lake. And we caught a lot of bass!

I remember once, Gus had a big one on his line and just before he could get it, it snapped his line. A while later I caught a nice 4-pounder and we kept that one for dinner. Back home, I was cleaning the fish in my back yard and we found 2 crawfish and Gus’s lure in the belly of my fish.

We went back to Mussleman Lake a lot. And we caught a lot of bass. There was one day when we were in a rented aluminum boat and we had paddled to the upwind-side of the lake, to look for calmer water, since the wind was making the shallows choppy and the conditions were not favourable for bass. After unsuccessfully fishing the calmer, but still choppy, side for a while we thought maybe the fish had gone deeper to avoid the rougher water. We decided to use the wind to our advantage and troll across the middle of the lake. We each cast our lures behind the boat and Dino rowed slowly, with the wind helping to speed us up, keeping our lines taught, as they followed behind the boat.

Then Dino’s line snagged something. He stopped rowing and started pulling his line in. But it was really stuck. As he reeled in, our boat slowly went backwards, pulling us towards the snag. “I think it’s a log.” Dino said, before saying, “Actually, I think it’s a fish.” Then, “No, it’s a log.”

Then the log dislodged and started coming to the surface. “It’s coming up, careful not to snap you line,” I said. At this point Gus and I had reeled our lines in and were standing near the middle of this little boat. Dino was in the back, rod curved from the tension of dragging this big log from the depths of the lake. It was almost at the surface when it moved sideways. Then a fat, approximately 4-foot long pike surfaced with a huge splash of its tail.

This scared Gus, and he stepped back flailing his arms. He knocked me over and a box of cookies saved me from getting stitches. I fell backwards and my head landed on the cookies, crushing them against the hard aluminum bench. The fish splashed and flailed a couple more times and broke Dino’s line. We were shocked. We had no idea there were pike in this small lake, and certainly no idea that there were any fish that big to be caught.

The game had changed. No longer did we head to this lake to fish for bass in the shallows. We went to Canadian Tire and bought ourselves higher poundage fishing line, longer metal leaders to prevent the pike’s sharp teeth from cutting our line, and lures that sank deeper that the ones we used for bass in the shallows.

And then, after many trips of only ever catching bass at this lake, we started catching pike. A lot of pike. There were some unsuccessful days, but they usually ended with us in the shallows catching a bass or two. I find it so interesting that it took this little trip across the windy lake for us to learn what to look for. But once we knew what to look for, well that’s all we needed to find them… seek and ye shall find.