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The deeper Brandon Nelson, my buddy from GoPro, drives into Northern Wisconsin, the more I’m mesmerized. The land is a maze of hills, forests, farms, rivers, and lakes. Whitetails are everywhere, and I’m jealous how much water people in this part of the country have at their disposal. Someone could fish for smallmouth, walleye, pike, and catfish after a short drive in any direction—but for decades, muskie have remained the marquee headliner, and the town of Hayward, Wisconsin is celebrated as one of the prime muskie fishing spots in the world. There’s a museum-sized fish replica in the center of town in case you forget that fact.
There’s never any guarantee of catching a muskie, even in the muskie fishing capital of the world. (JC Maldonado/)
Our main goal is to catch a muskie on a flyrod, and capture it all on video. However, I’m making the trek to this part of the country looking for something more than just a fish. If successful, I’ll finally achieve a goal I’ve spent years trying to realize, largely because of my family’s fabled relationship with muskie. Back in the early 1960s, my great grandfather caught one of the largest fish of his life by accident in Canada. He hoisted it in camp for photos, shared the meat with his family, and sprawled the fish’s dried head on a wood board. It was makeshift taxidermy at its best, and it resided in the basement of his Akron, Ohio home. As a kid, it terrified me. Decades later, I’ve spent countless hours chasing something just as large, often in his old boat, which I inherited. My dad has caught muskie, my uncle has caught muskie, but no matter how hard I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to land one … yet.
We’re hedging our mission on the so called “end-of-season-window.” It’s supposed to be the magical time in the heart of a musky’s late fall feeding frenzy when fish strap on the feed bag to prepare for winter and are supposedly “easier” to catch. Joining Brandon and I are friends JC Maldonado, and famed musky fly-fishing guides Jason Stewart and Brad Bohen, who achieved National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame notoriety with a 51.25-inch, fly-caught musky.
Hayward, Wisconsin is the muskie fishing capitol of the world, and the town has a 143-foot fish replica with a museum inside if you want to learn more about its claim to fame. (Hayward Chamber of Commerce/)
Jason knows Hayward’s waters like the back of his hand. He recognizes what we need to do to be successful, I have to remain optimistic, and hopefully the fish work themselves into the scheme somehow. The five of us convene at a local bar, discuss the next day’s strategy, and get some last-minute coaching from Jason about being ready to set the hook after every cast. But I’ve played this game before, and it’s hard to always be ready to strike at something affectionately nicknamed the fish of 10,000 casts.














