As is the case with a number of fishermen, I am usually let down by this daily theory, but each and every time I go out, I start the night with the same focus.
The other night, the temps were in the upper 20's, moonrise was set for about 7:40 p.m. and the conditions seemed conducive for a big fish bite. I was set up on a series of 18-22 foot humps that were located off a weed edge that extended out into a sand flat at about 25 feet of water. Over the top of the other side of the humps was deep water, reaching downwards to about 50 feet. My tip ups were scattered in amongst the raised bottom, waiting to see if something might appear over the top on into the weeds for an evening feed. One end of the humps fed into a trough that led up to about 6 feet of water near a shoreline shelf, and it was there we had the most action.
The perch bite quit about the time I had figured the walleye would start moving into shallower water to feed, briefly. As I watched my Vexilar inside my shack, the small lines that were perch quickly disappeared and I knew the time was getting close.
Fishing at night is equivalent to reading a suspense novel. Your mind plays tricks with you on each and every turn, thinking that just about everything you do is setting the plot for a big fish diary.
It wasn't to be this night, but with the setting sun over the west horizon, followed by the full moon rise in the east shortly after, it made for another gorgeous night on the lake hunting the Big Walter.
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