Glide Baits for Summer Lake Trout

I didn't expect the fish to zoom away like it did. Though nearly to the surface, it plunged down and down, trying to get back to the 100-foot depth where it had been hooked.

Just before this, we'd learned from the boat's sonar that the bigger lake trout were holding very deep in Lake Champlain - the mammoth body of water between New York, Vermont and Canada that some call the Sixth Great Lake.

On a light spinning rod, the hooked laker had fought hard from the bottom up. When I had it about 15 feet from the surface, I thought I was steadily winning.

But then the laker - I estimated between 8 and 12 pounds - turned tail and dove headfirst. As my drag was set with medium tension, the line went out in spits and spurts. The bottom was a long way down and the laker was still going when I felt the start of a tissue tear, like ripping cloth.

The tear continued into a complete gap and all too quickly my laker was gone.

Dejected I turned to my friend.

"I lost it." "You lost it?" "Yeah." Longtime fishing friends probably have that conversation many times over the years, but I couldn't remember a more dispirited announcement I'd made to Captain Jamie Vladyka. I know he doesn't like to lose fish, so I searched for an explanation.

"It out-ran the drag," I said.

Vladyka was skeptical.

"Don't tell anyone it out-ran the drag." he said, shaking his head like a father being presented a bad report card.

Okay I won't repeat my excuse, but that's how strong this laker felt coming up from Champlain's deep waters. Lake trout are powerful fish and can test a drag and bend a rod into nearly pretzel shapes.

There are moments in a fight when you just hold on, not getting any line back, and the big fish is still taking it out. So yes, I lost that laker. But when you fall down, you get back up, or that's what they say. in karate movies.