By Cory Allen

If there’s something that unnerves me more than guys that follows reports and hot tips to their next fishing destination, I have yet to find it. It’s not so much that I fault people for wanting to pursue muskies successfully, sometimes in some of the only days a year they get to, it’s more the psychology behind it. Treading the steps of others not only degrades the angling experience as a whole, but will most undoubtedly result in a very lackluster triptych at the end of the journey.

There is no shame in expounding upon the knowledge set by those forefathers of fishing, but all too often I see how the common angling mind works:

Read a report, see fish are “biting”, see what fish are “biting on”, and then follow like a horse on a treadmill with a carrot hanging in front of it. People think they’re getting somewhere, even if they do eventually get the carrot, but what progress has been made? I have a different approach in my methodology. For instance, waters are like women. Each on characteristic, with subtle complexities and nuance to be studied, explored and appreciated. Some are more idiosyncratic than others; some are pretty dumb and “easy” (I don’t call St. Clair “The Brothel” for no reason). Anyone can walk into a house of ill repute and walk out with a smile. It’s those that would actually get a smile out of such thrills that I find ultimately destructive to the sport of musky fishing. This constant following the leader of the few figureheads leaves the masses often in states of Thorazine comatose states, drool dripping as they like the gruel from the spoons shoved down their throats, instead of waking up and thinking for themselves.

Tennessee biologist, Jim Negus, with the longest ever documented muskie in TN muskie history, a 53 incher, guided by Cory Allen.

Let me tell you a story. It’s a bit self indulgent but illustrates my point. It wasn’t but a few months matrimonial implosion caused me to consider a very sudden life change, a change of scenery. I had my choices, with each one of them considering the presence of musky. I had guided and fished Rock Island Tennessee for several years, and while puzzles still remain to be solved, I knew from my experience that my palate was left in wanting for finer fair. In Tennessee, just down the road about an hour, there was a lake virtually untapped in its wealth of “off-shore” structure, and analytically left bereft of study. I knew there were big fish in there, I had studied its capabilities from afar for quite some time, and knew that there was more to this reservoir than met the eye. I took a risk, going into a relationship nearly like a blind date that I was moving in with off nothing more than her online profile. But the curves on a topographic contour map don’t lie; and Melton Hill truly was 36-24-36 musky water. I knew going into this it was a lifetime commitment, but one that would bear fruits perpetually and beyond my imagination.

Here we are 13 months later. With limited resources and time, I have 14 muskies over 50 inches in my boat, with nearly that many alluding capture. But the best part about it is they were all but a couple caught from areas that were off the beaten path, uncharted areas. There are fewer things more treasured to an old school spoonplugger than the delight of being a modern day cartographer, and plotting the lairs of dragons on the parchment. Did I choose my battlefield based on knowing where all the mines were? No. I mainly chose it for the challenge. That challenge has made me an angler now that can take the characteristics of this virago, look at another lake, immediately recognize the subtle similarities and know exactly how she likes to be touched.

The building of angling muscle lies in the exercise of the mind. As the late great Arnold Jacobs taught in his revolutionary studies on musicianship and the physical aspects concerning, everything we do is rooted in the mind’s perception of what it is, not so much in what it’s static reality may be. The human mind and body are enormously complex machines designed for simple use, and that transfers over to any study, angling included.

If you spend your entire angling career following the paths threaded by others, all you’re doing is interacting with nature on a “take-a-number” level. You’ve pioneered nothing in your own perception. You haven’t learned, only duplicated very simplistic commands. Basically you’re copying other people’s homework instead of learning the formulas yourself.

Of course, me being who I am, what article is complete without mention of the pioneer of the art of aquatic interaction, Buck Perry. His studies in “Spoonplugging,” once they are comprehended will literally illuminate the text of any information you obtain through angling whether it be personally or vicariously. In other words, take it back to formula. Don’t wait for someone else to show you how and what to do. As Buck was famous for quoting, “You should’ve been here last week is too late.” Success in angling lies in the analysis of the moment, creatively consuming conditions and not limiting one’s self to the dogma of species specific tactics. Don’t just fish to catch fish, go fishing to learn, expound, create your own theories, hypotheses, test them and then determine your course of action by the outcome.

We are all biologists and scientists whether we realize it or not, and every time we wet a line we are introducing variables to an environment and creating stimulus both negative and positive. Once you grasp this, you are well on your way to becoming the entirely unique and specialized angler you were born to be, assimilating knowledge from all around you and grafting it into your own unique style. Don’t pick a water for its ease, pick your waters for the challenge. You don’t pack on muscle by lifting 20 ounce coke bottles. Steel is forged and made malleable in fire. Yet, in this passion, there is still yet an intimacy we gain with nature, something primordial and dating back to time immemorial that brings us back to the water’s edge. It is our Lewis Carroll “looking glass” and more often than not staring into the abyss, it will stare right back at you. When this reality becomes fluid with understanding, you’ll begin to see this is not a battlefield after all, but a dance floor. Let the fish tell you the steps. Don’t try to dictate, and when you synchronize with the rhythm set by nature then it won’t matter what water you fish, for what species, or at what time. You’ll never be lost for long.

Article by Cory Allen, published in Fishing-Headquarters Online Magazine, issue 19 July & August, 2014.