Time for big walleye: I was casting my favorite stick bait, a Rapala Mag. 13, at the Kinzua Dam tailwaters. Outflow from the dam was about 8,000 cfs. About a half-dozen other anglers were there that night below the boat ramp, leaving little room to move, since the better spots were occupied. I had one of them, by a particular culvert.
Among all of the anglers there, including my fishing partner and I, no more than a couple of walleye had been caught. My partner, not a tailwaters regular who really understood the potential, had become bored and he was no longer fishing.
That's when I got my only hit of the night. After a few seconds, I knew I had a big fish, but I didn't know how big or if it was a walleye or a muskie -- until it had fought for several minutes and I had slowly worked it closer to shore.
Only then could I see that it was a huge walleye -- absolutely huge.
"What is it?" my fishing partner asked.
"A decent muskie," I replied.
Then, in a loud whisper, I told him the truth, which I had not wanted to share with every other angler there.
"It's a huge walleye," I said. "Give me the net, quickly!"
He decided to make a joke of the matter.
"Aw, you don't need the net for that," he said.
By this time, the monstrous walleye was within range of my long-handled net. But my fishing partner refused to hand me the net. This went on for at least 15 seconds, then the fish was gone.
I had seen 15-pound walleye, and it was clearly bigger than any of those. I had seen a 20-pound walleye, and the fish I lost was a few inches longer. Of course, anyone can say I'm full of it, and I wouldn't blame them. I lost what, to this day, would still be a state record walleye -- maybe a world- record walleye. None of the tailwaters regulars, those guys who fished there all winter, all night, several nights every week, for years, had any doubt that such a fish was there.
To a guy in my line of work, it would have meant tens of thousands of dollars through the years -- at least.
But I am not telling you this to share the misery. I tell you to convince anyone who wants to catch huge walleye that winter is the time to do it.
Through the decades since that painful experience, the anglers who fish the tailwaters regularly during winter have rolled over several times. Some of the originals have died; some have moved away.
I fish the tailwaters no more than a half-dozen times each winter lately, and the anglers I run into act as though I am an intruder. They truly believe they invented winter walleye fishing at the Kinzua tailwaters. In a way they did. At least they reinvented it.
There are no deep, dark secrets to catching big walleye during winter. You just have to be there, and not even necessarily at the Kinzua tailwaters, using one of a few basic fishing methods.
One angler, who I figure was the best for several years, though not when the original bunch was there, told me that his favorite tactic was casting Jointed Rapala Minnows. He preferred silver with a blue back, or gold with a red back.
No lure came even close to the popularity of Rapala Minnows, although there were differences in opinion about the size, color, whether it was jointed or whether it was a sinking model. My favorite always has been the Rapala Mag. 13. Although, they have not been made for several years, I still have three or four.
I had taken out a visiting writer as a favor to an event organizer. Unfortunately, the writer lost one in my favorite silver/black back color models. He promised to send me a few, which he claimed to have.
Casting twister-type leadhead jigs has been a favorite method of some very good winter walleye anglers I have known. One used very light bucktail jigs. A favorite jig pattern was tied to my line during some of my best nights.
That favorite jig pattern has brown bucktail on the bottom, chartreuse/yellow on the top and red calf tail at the throat.
One of the closest things to being a secret is using very light leadheads. I use mostly 1/8 ounce or 1/16 ounce. Some guys use 1/32 ounce.
The only other terminal rig that is commonly used in northwestern Pennsylvania -- at least to my knowledge -- is a live minnow, preferably a chub or a shiner, fished either on a jig or on a plain hook. The main reason I might use a minnow on a jig would be when the minnow is small.
And remember: dress warmly and be safe.
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