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Midnight troll for big muskies

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John Kubiak rowed toward another midnight with a new understanding of why the big muskies were falling.

His eyes strained into the black of a northern Wisconsin night for baitfish that here or there would pocket and patter the still surface like a rippling breeze.

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When he saw it, he turned toward it.

When he found it, he watched the rods with a heightened anticipation that one would soon bow to the water; again.

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