Bullheads

When I set the hook, I knew right away that this was no bluegill, and not a crappie either. The rest of the family was bobber fishing, and I was pitching a small tube jig to the edge of some green milfoil, a proven approach on this favorite panfish lake. A session here usually ends with at least a dozen nice sized panfish swimming in the livewell, and we usually find a pike to join them—just right for a fish fry. And a pike is just what I figured this was, at least at first, and I hoped I could get him in the boat before he claimed my jig as his own. Savannah looked away from her bobber to say, “Is it a northern, Daddy?” I was about to affirm, but something wasn’t quite right. A pike, even a small one, moves fast. This thing was fighting deep and slow. I took it easy, as I at least wanted a look at whatever it was. I said “I don’t think it’s a northern—it’s fighting like a…walleye? Or maybe it’s a…” and then it showed itself, and I chuckled as a big bullhead came to the surface. Despite all the panfishing we do, I couldn’t remember us landing one of these before. I showed the girls how to hold one to avoid the fins, and they both wanted to...

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