As expected, there wasn鈥檛 another soul at the boat ramp when a friend and I pulled in last Friday afternoon, Nov. 15, to try our luck for a couple of hours before dark at a favorite fishing hole.
It was the last weekend of Minnesota鈥檚 firearms deer season in this particular part of the state, and my fishing partner had filled his tag late the afternoon of opening day, Saturday, Nov. 9. I wasn鈥檛 hunting the firearms season.
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Just to be safe, we still wore blaze orange as we pulled away from the boat ramp to see what the afternoon held in store. Whether we鈥檇 catch any fish remained to be seen, but one thing was certain:
I鈥檇 never been in a boat this late in November.
This was one of those classic November bonus boat days that don鈥檛 come along every fall. But when they do, it鈥檚 always a lark.
One of my all-time favorite bonus boat days occurred more than two decades ago. It was the Monday after Minnesota鈥檚 firearms deer opener, and I had the day off after visiting a deer camp for a story on opening day.
The weather forecast called for sunny skies, light winds and temperatures in the 60s. There was only one thing to do: Go fishing.
Leaving the yard well before daylight with the 14-foot aluminum boat in tow, I was at the Vidas Access on the Rainy River near Clementson, Minnesota, shortly after 8 a.m.
Just like the spot we fished last Friday, the boat ramp was empty, at least for the time being.
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That鈥檚 not something you encounter very often in the fall on the Rainy River, even during deer season.
Firing up the 15-horse Evinrude 鈥� call me weird, but I absolutely love the smell of a two-stroke outboard on a chilly morning 鈥� I headed upstream to a spot where I鈥檇 caught walleyes in the past. The current was relatively light, so instead of dropping anchor, I decided to set up a drift and see what happened.
I threaded a frozen shiner minnow onto a half-ounce gold jig and dropped it into the depths. As I remember it now, at least, the jig had barely hit the bottom when I set the hook on a fish that turned out to be a 17-inch walleye.
It was the first of several I鈥檇 catch that day.
The weather played out exactly as the forecast had predicted, and every drift produced a walleye or three. While dropping anchor and jigging was often the go-to technique in those days before spot-lock trolling motors, the walleyes on that day wanted more movement.
I anchored just long enough for a midday siesta but didn鈥檛 have a bite until I pulled anchor and resumed drifting.
Keeping the last spot in my walleye limit open so I could continue fishing, I put the last fish on the stringer shortly before 4 p.m. and headed back to the boat ramp for the 80-plus-mile trek back to camp. Still, there were only a couple of other rigs at the landing.
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It had been an absolutely magical day on the water.
More recently 鈥� 2015, I believe it was 鈥� I joined a Canadian friend on a similarly balmy November weekend for a couple of days fishing 鈥済reenback鈥� walleyes near the mouth of the Red River north of Selkirk, Manitoba.
We didn鈥檛 have the river to ourselves by a long shot, but the fish cooperated that day, too, and we boated several greenbacks in the low to mid 20-inch range. I lost the biggest walleye of the day 鈥� which I鈥檓 sure would have been big enough to meet the 28-inch minimum required for entry into Manitoba鈥檚 popular Master Angler program 鈥� near the boat.
We never did see that fish, but I figure I鈥檓 entitled to call it any length I want since it got away. Whether it would have beaten my 鈥淧B鈥� 鈥� personal best 鈥� walleye of 31陆 inches, I鈥檒l never know, but it certainly would have been close.
That November weekend on the Red River just a couple of miles upstream from massive Lake Winnipeg will forever go down as one for the books.
That鈥檚 the way it often goes with bonus boat days.
Try as we might, my fishing partner and I didn鈥檛 land a walleye last Friday afternoon, but we did catch our share of northern pike. Judging by their bellies, they definitely were fattening up for winter.
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A bright yellow moon was rising above the horizon, reflecting off the water, when we released our 30th pike of the afternoon and decided to call it a couple of hours well-spent.
We didn鈥檛 hear any rifle shots, but the afternoon had been an absolute blast.
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