The loving husband and I took a brief respite from the rigors of daily living and went fishing on Clitherall Lake. On a Tuesday afternoon, we went out to catch some crappies. I was using my ultra-light Fish Eagle II with my ultra-light Pflueger reel, six-pound test line and a mini-tube-jig. We were moving along the weed line with the trolling motor.
The bluegills (we call them dingbats) were just hammering us and they got to be rather annoying. At approximately 2:15 p.m. I had yet another dingbat on my line and I was reeling him in. Then, the unusual occurs. The dingbat leaps out of the water and sails three feet into the air. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my 53 years of fishing. It was disconcerting. I continued to reel and, instead of a tiny bluegill on my line, there was something that WOULD….NOT….MOVE.
I tugged on it, thinking I might be stuck on a weed patch at the bottom of the lake. Suddenly, and without warning, my line starts screaming off the reel and I knew…. I had a “big one.”  The loving husband turns the boat and we start following the fish with the trolling motor. Otherwise I would have run out of line.
I’m reeling feverishly. Then, my line ever-so-slowly starts to surface. The fish was coming to the top of the lake.  I was afraid, very afraid.  Approximately 40 feet from the boat the massive beast explodes from the lake and for a brief suspended moment in time it is poised in mid-air…It was a magnificent sight.
The loving husband and I are standing there paralyzed, with our mouths open. I knew I was in trouble. The beast drops back into the water and I reel with great vigor, but not too much vigor because I don’t want to break my wimpy 6-pound test line. This is when I prayed that universal fisherman’s prayer, “Dear God, please help me to get it to the boat!”
I make a little headway and the fish gets closer and closer. Then, not understanding fragile nature of the ultra-light rod, the darn thing swims under the boat. My rod is bent into a circle and I’m deeply fearful that it is going to break. I yell at him, “Get out from under the boat” and he swam out. Of course, he swam back under, bending the rod to its limit again. I hyperventilated. Suddenly and just for the sheer joy of it, he decides to go for another little swim. The line if going out, the drag is screaming, the reel is smoking. I am helpless in the presence of this fish, who is fairly low on the evolutionary scale. Basically, I just hang on for dear life.  When he slowed down a bit, I started to reel him in again.
Story of a Girl and Her Muskie;
Librarian Replays 'Amazing Series of Events' of Fishing Trip

By Glenda, Librarian
Finally, I get the crafty sea creature up to the boat while the loving husband is ready with the net. Then he tells me, “It’s not going to fit in the net, Glenda.”  I thought, “Well, that just great.”  But, being of sound mind and slightly crafty himself, the loving husband swiftly and deftly sweeps the net from behind the beast and hefts it into the boat. At that very moment the hook comes out of the fish and it is bent straight. The fish was pooped and so was I. My hands were so tired they were shaking and I could barely hang on to my rod anymore. The loving husband measured him and we took some pictures and put him back in the lake to swim another day. So there you have it; the story of a girl and her 42-inch, 22 pound muskie.
Sometimes I lay awake at night and replay the whole amazing series of events and I can’t sleep, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong and didn’t. I believe Someone gave me a gift.
This is my last column as your librarian. I won’t be buying new books. I won’t be fixing computers. I won’t be rescuing bats. I won’t be making a 2010 budget proposal. But I’ll be around. I was a library-user long before I became a librarian, so I’ll see you in stacks.
Call Old Town today to make your own fishing memories!
This is the story of a girl and her muskie.
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