“Yahoo! Look at this, Sugar Plum. According to the Fish and Game web site, they planted Tiger Muskies in that high mountain lake behind Mt. Borah to reduce the population of Brook Trout. That is very cool. It has always been my dream to catch a Tiger Muskey. They remind me of a barracuda with their giant teeth.

     “Sugar Plum, would you mind packing us a lunch while I gather up my gear? Thumper and I are going after those Muskies!”
Sugar Plum replied, “Eat your breakfast before you run off. You know you will get sick, if you don’t! And be sure to catch a few brook trout for dinner. Don’t just trophy fish!”
“That will be easy. There are so many brook trout in that lake that Fish and Game wants you to take home twenty-five any time you go up there.”

      Thumper and I wolfed down our food, and with the truck already loaded up with all the gear including tackle box, fishing poles, and net, we set off for a leisurely day of fishing.
It didn’t take us long to reach this crater lake. What a magnificent spot to spend the day! The lake is small with reeds at the South end and dead-fall logs which give the Muskies good hiding spots. There were hundreds of dragon flies hovering over the water. The brook trout were performing aerobatics trying to snag a snack.

     Thumper found this very amusing and started trying to play the same game. She lunged after the brook trout trying to catch one while it was airborne. I had to put a stop to that because I didn’t want Thumper jumping in the water and spooking the fish.
“Thumper, get over here! I am the fisherman in this family.
“Hmmmmm. Okay, what do I have in my tackle box to catch Muskies? Ooops, almost forgot, Sugar Plum said to get some brook trout for dinner. I better get that out of the way first. If I forget, I’ll be toast!
“This Mepps Spinner ought to do the trick, Thumper.”

     Nine casts later, we had nine brookies on a stringer. They were small in length, but appeared quite meaty as they were shaped like footballs.
Thumper started whimpering. She thought it was lunch time.
“OK. That ought to be enough for the two of us. We’ll have our lunch that Sugar Plum packed and then get on with the real fishing. Look, Thumper, she even packed you some dog biscuits.”

     While eating my sandwich, I scrounged around in my tackle box looking for the biggest lure I had in the box with great big treble hooks. I turned to Thumper, “This should do it. It is way too big for a brook trout to grab.
“Thumper, let’s go sneak around the lake and check out all those logs that are poking out of the water. The Muskies like to hide in the shade. You have to be quiet. I don’t want you spooking them.”
We had only walked 100 yards when Thumper stopped and cocked her head like the RCA dog. She was watching a log floating near the bank.
“Thumper, Holy Hannah! That’s no log! That’s a Tiger Muskey! Can you believe how big it is? Look at those teeth!” (I didn’t realize they were so vicious looking.)

     Thumper became very cautious and protective. The hair on her back stood up, and she was glued to my left leg. I patted her head; I had to get her to relax so I could fish. “It’s OK, girl. It won’t hurt us.”
I cast my lure about three feet past the Muskey’s nose so I could reel it right in front of his face. With great anticipation, I slowly reeled the lure in expecting the fish to strike. But to my surprise, he didn’t move a muscle. It was a perfect cast, and he didn’t bite. How upsetting!

      “OK, Thumper, watch this. I will get him this time.” I cast again and again and again and again.
“Phew! I am getting tired. This is hard work, but I am not going home without a Muskey! We still have enough time before Sugar Plum expects us. I guess I’ll try a different lure.
“Look, Thumper. Here’s one that looks just like a baby brook trout.”

     I zinged that one about ten feet past the monster. Wham! Instantly a huge brook trout grabbed it. That was not quite what I had in mind, but it was cool. My pole was bent over backwards. I had never had a brookie fight like this. It was doing everything it could to break free. It was performing aerobatic stunts, leaping and twisting in the air. I was puzzled until I realized that it wasn’t fighting to get away from me, but from that monster Muskey. The Muskey was stalking it. I started humming the “Jaws” theme and became mesmerized by the theatrics of Mother Nature’s creatures.

     In one last desperate effort, the brook trout peeled off thirty yards of line and made a leap out of the water like a Polaris missile being launched. It was at least three feet in the air, and as it arced the Muskey leaped and swallowed the brook trout in mid-air hook and all. Let the games begin. It was a good thing I had lunch early; this battle could be a marathon.
“Holy Hannah! Yahoo!!!! Look at that baby run! Thumper, if I get this fish landed, my first guess is it will go in the record books. The question is will I get credit for landing the brook trout or the Muskey.”

     As I played the fish (or they played me), for 30 minutes I ran up and down the bank trying to follow the fish so I didn’t run out of line on my spool. I had 200 yards on my spool, but it wasn’t enough today! Exhausted, I could no longer keep up the pace. On his last run he not only spooled me, but started to pull me into the lake. At the last moment, I yelled for help and Thumper came to the rescue, grabbing me by the seat of my pants. Unfortunately the line snapped, and the fish got away. Thumper knew I was disappointed by the look on my face.

     I started crying, “Thumper, what am I going to do? That was the biggest fish I ever saw.”
Thumper tried to console me by licking the tears off my cheeks.
We packed up the fish that we had promised Sugar Plum and headed home.
“Thumper, thanks for saving me, buddy, but did you have to rip the seat of my britches?”