Walleye fishing at Clear Lake is currently the best of my lifetime. My first childhood outings to the lake took place with my parents in 1957. Since those early years I’ve been able to witness a spectacular mix of good, bad, and excellent fishing. But even the best of yesteryear’s banner seasons pale in comparison to the abundance and quality of fish anglers enjoy today.
Having said that, I’ll add that no matter how good things may currently be at Clear Lake, there is one thing from the past that I will always miss. That thing is the annual opener of the walleye season. Although contemporary lakers enjoy the luxury of pursuing walleyes year-round, it wasn’t always that
way.
During the years when the Clear Lake Fish Hatchery collected, incubated, and hatched walleye eggs, the fishing season [for walleyes] was annually closed from mid-February until the first Saturday in May. The Conservation Commission began putting up eggs soon after ice out, and nighttime net crews were comprised of a hardy and colorful cadre of volunteer outdoorsman. Fish netting enjoyed high public interest, and the results of the late-night operations were well attended by curious throngs of rubber necking spectators who audibly oohed awed whenever a ginormous, egg laden walleye was offloaded into the hatchery. The annual campaign concluded when the hatchery was filled. The Clear Lake facility eventually became obsolete, and the incubation and hatching of eggs ended in 1977. Anglers have enjoyed a continuous, year-round open season on walleyes ever since.
Clear Lake’s spring walleye opener was nothing short of a regional phenomenon. Following more than 21⁄2 months of a closed season, Opening Day marked the literal kickoff of the open water fishing season. Every angler worth their salt was expected to make a showing, and the level of enthusiasm would be hard to exaggerate. Participation was through the roof. Only the Fourth of July annually drew a greater number of people to the lake.
Most anglers didn’t own their own boats during the 1950s and ‘60s. For most folks, getting on the water meant obtaining a rental – usually a wooden strip rowboat – procured at one of the lake’s many full- service resorts. Demand exceeded supply, and it was wise to reserve boats weeks in advance.
When the big weekend finally arrived, business got off to a brisk and early start as anglers began showing up at resort bait tanks during the morning’s wee hours. Hooded yard lights illuminated the minnow tank’s immediate vicinity, while the end of the bait line disappeared somewhere in the darkness. For those who couldn’t stand the wait, most resorts also supported a café where anglers could enjoy a hardy, home cooked meal. Although we visited them all, my dad and I had two favorites – Kaster’s Cove (present site of the Muskie Lounge) and the Elm Bend resort (present location of Waldon Condominiums). Both resorts provided excellent meals, serving the kind of fresh, stick-to-your-ribs down home cooking the likes of which can be rarely found today.
After being adequately fortified with a hot breakfast and armed with the latest tackle, the Opening Day flotillas would begin leaving the docks at the crack of dawn. Many of the boats were propelled by oars, while the more affluent enjoyed the luxury of five horsepower outboards. Everyone you knew would be on the water. At select walleye hotspots such as Tinker’s Reef, Billy’s Reef, the Outing Club shoreline, Woodford Island, and Dodge’s Point; the water would be so packed with anglers that, at times, you could have jumped from boat to boat without ever getting your feet wet. No one seemed to mind the congestion. After all, it was Opening Day and at long last, we were all fishing for walleyes! Who could complain?
Some Opening Dayers were serious anglers; many were not. For the causal enthusiast – and there were plenty of them – walleye fishing was pretty much a one or two day, opening weekend social event. A guy living down the street was a good example. As Opening Day drew near, he would begin to exhibit the same sort of excitement that you’d expect from an eight-year-old about to open birthday presents. But once the excitement of the big weekend had come and gone, he was back to earning a living and fishing became a more or less back burner pastime until the next spring.
Then, as now, angler success was largely dependent on the current weather conditions as well as the abundance, or lack of abundance, of existing walleye year classes. On some years, the weather was ideal, and grinning anglers returned to the docks with daily limits of five walleyes. On other years, the weekend would deliver some of the nastiest weather imaginable, complete with driving rain, gale force winds and plummeting temperatures – conditions that did little to provoke walleyes into waging an all-out feeding frenzy. Nevertheless, most parties managed to hook a fish or two and it always seemed as if some fortunate angler would tie into a trophy seven or eight pounder. Upon being landed, such fish would promptly go on tour to be proudly displayed and photographed at local bait shops. As the day ended, envious onlookers would head for home, happy in the fact that at least one trophy walleye had been caught in spite of the weather.
As the season progressed, warming water temps and more settled weather patterns brought on the year’s best angling. In addition to walleyes, daily catches might include slab-sided crappies, largemouth bass, northern pike, yellow and silver bass, bullheads, and an occasional channel catfish. But although angling catch rates continued to improve significantly during May and June, the outings failed to deliver the all-out excitement exhibited during the Opening Day of the walleye season.
Today, there is simply no denying that fishing at Clear Lake is the best in my lifetime. But as good as the current walleye fishing may be, I still miss the thrill and excitement of Opening Day.
Enjoy more outdoor tales online at Washburn’s Outdoor Journal at iawildlife.org/blog
