Midnight troll for big muskies
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.
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.