A Perpetual Legacy
By: Andrew D. Buss
By: Andrew D. Buss
14 years is a long time to wait, but 45 years is ridiculous. The musky is called the fish of 10,000 casts for a reason, but the “fish of every near-half century” is absurd.
The quest began in 1963 when Leo and Marjorie Scheibelhut of Mishawaka, Indiana began taking their family on vacation to Hackensack, Minnesota - home of Lucette, Mrs. Paul Bunyon. One of their sons was about to marry into a family that ran a resort on nearby Kid Lake, and it seemed like a healthy adventure. But what they had no way of imagining was the impact that choice would have on generations to follow, and how it molded perseverance, passion, and family camaraderie all into one story that reminds us all why we do what we do, and why so many of us fish.
For the past 45 years, members of the Scheibelhut family have come to Hackensack. Soon one family became two and so on. Eventually, the family would fill up an entire resort. However, it wasn’t love at first sight.
The quest began in 1963 when Leo and Marjorie Scheibelhut of Mishawaka, Indiana began taking their family on vacation to Hackensack, Minnesota - home of Lucette, Mrs. Paul Bunyon. One of their sons was about to marry into a family that ran a resort on nearby Kid Lake, and it seemed like a healthy adventure. But what they had no way of imagining was the impact that choice would have on generations to follow, and how it molded perseverance, passion, and family camaraderie all into one story that reminds us all why we do what we do, and why so many of us fish.
For the past 45 years, members of the Scheibelhut family have come to Hackensack. Soon one family became two and so on. Eventually, the family would fill up an entire resort. However, it wasn’t love at first sight.
In 1990, at the age of 72, Grandpa Leo (above) landed the biggest bass of his life from Silver Lake. The fish weighed over 5 pounds.
Daughter, Kathy, recalls her mother declaring on that first trip, “I am not coming back to this hole!” Their resort was rustic: no running water and a detached outhouse.
But they did return. The very next year actually, and each subsequent year. Perhaps the polarity of the North Woods was a factor. And fortunately, as they returned, technology also found its way up north. Running water and bathrooms became the norm.
The biggest attraction to the family, though, was the fishing. The area has 127 lakes in a 10-mile radius ranging from 112,835 acre Leech Lake to tiny unnamed lakes that require portages to reach. Leo took his family fishing on Kid Lake and other surrounding lakes. He used the 14-foot rowboat from the resort. Fishing was a pastime and a way to connect with his children and, later, grandchildren. But as time went on, it became more serious. He eventually developed a taste, and then passion, for the fish of 10,000 casts.
That desire peaked in 1969 when two distant relatives caught a musky that created hysteria. “It was too big for either of the boys to carry alone,” Kathy remembers, “One had the tail and another the head.” The sight of the beast was awe-inspiring and as time passed, that fish would grow in size, as did Leo’s desire to catch his own. A flame was ignited.
From that point Kathy remembers her dad fishing daily for musky. “He did a lot of trolling, and people often teased him for the fast pace he kept. But he just replied, ‘I don’t want any sick ones!’ Dad always wanted the biggest fish.” His family revered the musky as the premier trophy fish but, frankly, had little faith he would catch one.
But they did return. The very next year actually, and each subsequent year. Perhaps the polarity of the North Woods was a factor. And fortunately, as they returned, technology also found its way up north. Running water and bathrooms became the norm.
The biggest attraction to the family, though, was the fishing. The area has 127 lakes in a 10-mile radius ranging from 112,835 acre Leech Lake to tiny unnamed lakes that require portages to reach. Leo took his family fishing on Kid Lake and other surrounding lakes. He used the 14-foot rowboat from the resort. Fishing was a pastime and a way to connect with his children and, later, grandchildren. But as time went on, it became more serious. He eventually developed a taste, and then passion, for the fish of 10,000 casts.
That desire peaked in 1969 when two distant relatives caught a musky that created hysteria. “It was too big for either of the boys to carry alone,” Kathy remembers, “One had the tail and another the head.” The sight of the beast was awe-inspiring and as time passed, that fish would grow in size, as did Leo’s desire to catch his own. A flame was ignited.
From that point Kathy remembers her dad fishing daily for musky. “He did a lot of trolling, and people often teased him for the fast pace he kept. But he just replied, ‘I don’t want any sick ones!’ Dad always wanted the biggest fish.” His family revered the musky as the premier trophy fish but, frankly, had little faith he would catch one.
Despite failing to catch one for many years, he returned each summer with a new plan of attack loaded with optimism.
Simultaneously, his four children grew, got married, and gave him grandchildren. Minnesota became the Scheibelhut vacation destination. It had grown into a family tradition.
In 1975 Kathy married Dave Ernst and introduced him to the Minnesota experience. Dave followed the same path as others - he was hooked. In 1978, they had their first born; a son, Mat. They proudly took their son to Minnesota when he was just five months old. And while Dave chased the fish on the lakes with the men, Kathy echoed the same cry her mother did years ago; vowing to never return.
Again, it was not to be. The polarity is strong. It draws even the wives back despite the abandonment of their husbands. Her family too has since returned every year, and she admits, “There is a lure of the place: the lakes, the wildlife, the people, and ultimately, the countless memories with family.” Kathy and Dave had two more children, both daughters.
For the children each summer vacation was highlighted by their trip up North, but no one looked forward to it more so than Mat.
Dave first took Mat fishing when he was just two years old and he loved it. He went on to spend countless hours in the boat with his dad and grandpa, and just like grandpa, a witness account influenced him to target a single species.
Simultaneously, his four children grew, got married, and gave him grandchildren. Minnesota became the Scheibelhut vacation destination. It had grown into a family tradition.
In 1975 Kathy married Dave Ernst and introduced him to the Minnesota experience. Dave followed the same path as others - he was hooked. In 1978, they had their first born; a son, Mat. They proudly took their son to Minnesota when he was just five months old. And while Dave chased the fish on the lakes with the men, Kathy echoed the same cry her mother did years ago; vowing to never return.
Again, it was not to be. The polarity is strong. It draws even the wives back despite the abandonment of their husbands. Her family too has since returned every year, and she admits, “There is a lure of the place: the lakes, the wildlife, the people, and ultimately, the countless memories with family.” Kathy and Dave had two more children, both daughters.
For the children each summer vacation was highlighted by their trip up North, but no one looked forward to it more so than Mat.
Dave first took Mat fishing when he was just two years old and he loved it. He went on to spend countless hours in the boat with his dad and grandpa, and just like grandpa, a witness account influenced him to target a single species.
The Scheibelhut family stayed at Poquet Lake Resort for several years. In the summer of 1991, at the age of 73, Grandpa was still able to help his grandson Mat, 13, boat some big bass.
Leo Schiebelhut (above) began taking his family to Minnesota over 4 decades ago. What he did not know, was the influence this decision would have 4 generations later.
For the next 10 years, Mat spent his time, energy, and little money pursuing pike. Summer equated to pike fishing in Minnesota. He readily admits it became an obsession. He would read countless articles and purchased videos to get a better understanding of his foe. When fishing, it did not matter if dad and grandpa were targeting bass or crappie, he was targeting pike. To his advantage, pike are numerous and he would catch many, but like grandpa, he wanted the biggest: one that was worthy of his bedroom wall.
His moment came in 1990 at 12 years of age. While fishing with his dad on Gut Lake, he got a strike. Mat remembers vividly, “I was throwing a chartreuse Husky Jerk on fresh 14-pound line with a metal leader when my rod buckled from a vicious strike.” He knew immediately this was it. The fish charged toward the boat and he had a hard time reeling in the slack this created, but Mat did catch up.
After what seemed like an eternity the enormous fish was brought up to the boat and his dad swooped the fish in the net only to find the net too small. The fish jumped out and made a desperate attempt for freedom, but Mat held on and again brought the fish up to the boat. Amidst the chaos, Dave again attempted to net his son’s trophy fish, but again, the fish escaped and made another run. However, the 12-year old was not done either. Mat forced the fish up to the net a third time, but redundancy reigned. This time the 40-plus inch fish broke free of the net and snapped his line.
Mat recalls, “I blamed my dad. I was angry. In fact, later that day I took a nap and my mom woke me because I was cursing him out in my sleep.” Today he no longer holds that grudge: “I realize the blame is on me. I tried to muscle that fish in when I should have played it more carefully.”
His moment came in 1990 at 12 years of age. While fishing with his dad on Gut Lake, he got a strike. Mat remembers vividly, “I was throwing a chartreuse Husky Jerk on fresh 14-pound line with a metal leader when my rod buckled from a vicious strike.” He knew immediately this was it. The fish charged toward the boat and he had a hard time reeling in the slack this created, but Mat did catch up.
After what seemed like an eternity the enormous fish was brought up to the boat and his dad swooped the fish in the net only to find the net too small. The fish jumped out and made a desperate attempt for freedom, but Mat held on and again brought the fish up to the boat. Amidst the chaos, Dave again attempted to net his son’s trophy fish, but again, the fish escaped and made another run. However, the 12-year old was not done either. Mat forced the fish up to the net a third time, but redundancy reigned. This time the 40-plus inch fish broke free of the net and snapped his line.
Mat recalls, “I blamed my dad. I was angry. In fact, later that day I took a nap and my mom woke me because I was cursing him out in my sleep.” Today he no longer holds that grudge: “I realize the blame is on me. I tried to muscle that fish in when I should have played it more carefully.”
At 10 years of age, Mat, was addicted to pike; many fell victim. This fish was taken from Poquet Lake in 1988.
Meanwhile, Grandpa Leo continued to target his musky and before anyone realized, 31 years passed. In 1992, due to heart complications, he passed away. His passing naturally changed the dynamics of the family, but also the experience to Hackensack. Marjorie made it up just a handful of times more and the pursuit of the musky was nonexistent. That was Grandpa’s fish and if he could not catch it, no one could. Yet, stories are not all that get passed down through families. Genetics are a funny thing and impossible to escape.
Two years after Leo’s passing and four year’s after Mat’s disappointing defeat, the family still came. And Mat still sought his trophy pike. But like other times in his family’s history, an eye witness account rekindled a flame the family had not seen for two years.
In the summer of 1994, Mat was fishing with his dad tossing a Pulsator spinnerbait when a giant musky followed his bait up to the boat. It was a new beginning: “I had never seen a pike that size, and when I saw it, I knew, that is what I wanted.” After two generations, the genes reappeared.
Dave told him the bleak reality, “Mat, we don’t have any tackle that can catch that fish.” But like most teenagers, he did not care what dad thought. They remained there for the next two hours and Mat returned each day that week. A new flame was ignited.
Mat had the odds stacked against him. Not only did he have the defeat of the pike still lingering, but grandpa pursued a musky for 31 years and never succeeded. Despite being close to some of the best musky waters in the world, the limits he faced were greater than the advantages. He did not have a boat. He was stuck with whatever rowboat he had access. The only motor he had was a 3 horsepower and 36-pound thrust trolling motor his parents owned. He had no depth finders and his tackle was not made for musky. But, genetics are a stubborn.
Two years after Leo’s passing and four year’s after Mat’s disappointing defeat, the family still came. And Mat still sought his trophy pike. But like other times in his family’s history, an eye witness account rekindled a flame the family had not seen for two years.
In the summer of 1994, Mat was fishing with his dad tossing a Pulsator spinnerbait when a giant musky followed his bait up to the boat. It was a new beginning: “I had never seen a pike that size, and when I saw it, I knew, that is what I wanted.” After two generations, the genes reappeared.
Dave told him the bleak reality, “Mat, we don’t have any tackle that can catch that fish.” But like most teenagers, he did not care what dad thought. They remained there for the next two hours and Mat returned each day that week. A new flame was ignited.
Mat had the odds stacked against him. Not only did he have the defeat of the pike still lingering, but grandpa pursued a musky for 31 years and never succeeded. Despite being close to some of the best musky waters in the world, the limits he faced were greater than the advantages. He did not have a boat. He was stuck with whatever rowboat he had access. The only motor he had was a 3 horsepower and 36-pound thrust trolling motor his parents owned. He had no depth finders and his tackle was not made for musky. But, genetics are a stubborn.
Just as for grandpa, it did not come easy. Each year brought new optimism, and just as he did for pike, Mat would educate himself with In-Fisherman articles and videos.
Each summer he would try new techniques and baits. He spent countless hours chasing, but the musky simply would not cooperate. Mat admits, “I had constant doubts,” but his will never waned, “I was obsessed. It was the only thing I wanted. Going to Minnesota was all about the musky. Just seeing one would make my whole trip. Seeing a musky for me is like seeing a bear for others.”
He had some close encounters. In 2003, while fishing with a cousin on Baby Lake, Mat had seven follows in a single morning. “I specifically remember one. I cast my bait at some lily pads and landed nearly on one’s head. He followed my bait up to the boat. I did the figure-eight thing, but the fish just swam off.”
Two years later in 2005, Mat was fishing at 1 am on Man Lake with another cousin. “It was a clear night and I was throwing a Topkick bait, when all of a sudden there was an explosion on my bait. I set the hook and fought a huge fish. It jumped several times, came up to the boat and took a hard dive down just as the pike (Gut Lake, 1990). It came off.” He never had a good look at it, but he knew. He knew it was a musky; a musky worthy of his wall.
Each summer he would try new techniques and baits. He spent countless hours chasing, but the musky simply would not cooperate. Mat admits, “I had constant doubts,” but his will never waned, “I was obsessed. It was the only thing I wanted. Going to Minnesota was all about the musky. Just seeing one would make my whole trip. Seeing a musky for me is like seeing a bear for others.”
He had some close encounters. In 2003, while fishing with a cousin on Baby Lake, Mat had seven follows in a single morning. “I specifically remember one. I cast my bait at some lily pads and landed nearly on one’s head. He followed my bait up to the boat. I did the figure-eight thing, but the fish just swam off.”
Two years later in 2005, Mat was fishing at 1 am on Man Lake with another cousin. “It was a clear night and I was throwing a Topkick bait, when all of a sudden there was an explosion on my bait. I set the hook and fought a huge fish. It jumped several times, came up to the boat and took a hard dive down just as the pike (Gut Lake, 1990). It came off.” He never had a good look at it, but he knew. He knew it was a musky; a musky worthy of his wall.
Mat proudly holds his musky minutes after completing a 45-year quest. Kathy quipped, “His journey finally ended.”
Dave describes his son simply, “He is the type that never gives up - nothing would stop him.” Mat wanted a musky, and at the age of 16, he went to work.
Again, two years later in 2007, Mat was fishing alone at night with the Topkick on Man Lake. A musky exploded on his bait. He set the hook and fought the fish for just a second before it came unbuttoned.
Mat entered his 14th year of pursuit in 2008. There was no pike on his wall, and not a single musky to his name. He then saw a Musky Hunter magazine he believed foreshadowed his fate, “I saw a picture of a man who was over 70 years old holding his first musky and I thought ‘That’s going to be me!’”
Frustration and lack of confidence had set. There was nothing he could do about the limitations either. He was restricted to the small lakes in his immediate area on a small rowboat with the same motors. To add salt to injury, he was also crippled during the best fishing opportunities, “I learned that some of the best fishing is during windy conditions, but with my boat, those days just blew me to shore.” When the wind blew he found himself sidelined.
A new limitation crept in as well: guilt. Mat was now a father and family vacations mean just that to him. But chasing this fish often meant leaving his children and wife on shore. Luckily his wife helped relieve the stress, “She, along with my parents, always encouraged me to keep going for it.”
Then on July 7, 2008, 45 years after Leo and Marjorie first brought their family to Minnesota, on Baby Lake at 5 pm, another opportunity knocked on Mat’s door. He was trolling a 10-inch pike-colored swimbait. The weather was overcast and there was a healthy chop on the water. After circling the entire lake, Mat said to his dad, “Let's troll this spot, I’m sure we won’t catch anything, and then head in.”
Kaboom! Less than five minutes after that remark, Mat’s rod buckled “Like nothing ever before!” Dad killed the motor, and the musky stripped drag. He played the fish perfectly and slowly brought it up to the boat but it dove down. Immediately, both Dave and Mat began to think about the 1990 Gut Lake pike that escaped them with this tactic. Luckily Mat brought the fish up a second time but when Dave swooped the net down, but just as the infamous pike, it escaped. Once again, Dave found himself with the task of netting his son’s trophy fish that was proving impossible. He admits, “I felt considerable pressure.”
Mat entered his 14th year of pursuit in 2008. There was no pike on his wall, and not a single musky to his name. He then saw a Musky Hunter magazine he believed foreshadowed his fate, “I saw a picture of a man who was over 70 years old holding his first musky and I thought ‘That’s going to be me!’”
Frustration and lack of confidence had set. There was nothing he could do about the limitations either. He was restricted to the small lakes in his immediate area on a small rowboat with the same motors. To add salt to injury, he was also crippled during the best fishing opportunities, “I learned that some of the best fishing is during windy conditions, but with my boat, those days just blew me to shore.” When the wind blew he found himself sidelined.
A new limitation crept in as well: guilt. Mat was now a father and family vacations mean just that to him. But chasing this fish often meant leaving his children and wife on shore. Luckily his wife helped relieve the stress, “She, along with my parents, always encouraged me to keep going for it.”
Then on July 7, 2008, 45 years after Leo and Marjorie first brought their family to Minnesota, on Baby Lake at 5 pm, another opportunity knocked on Mat’s door. He was trolling a 10-inch pike-colored swimbait. The weather was overcast and there was a healthy chop on the water. After circling the entire lake, Mat said to his dad, “Let's troll this spot, I’m sure we won’t catch anything, and then head in.”
Kaboom! Less than five minutes after that remark, Mat’s rod buckled “Like nothing ever before!” Dad killed the motor, and the musky stripped drag. He played the fish perfectly and slowly brought it up to the boat but it dove down. Immediately, both Dave and Mat began to think about the 1990 Gut Lake pike that escaped them with this tactic. Luckily Mat brought the fish up a second time but when Dave swooped the net down, but just as the infamous pike, it escaped. Once again, Dave found himself with the task of netting his son’s trophy fish that was proving impossible. He admits, “I felt considerable pressure.”
Mat poses with his son, Clayton, at Wildwood Beach Resort on Man Lake with his musky.
Intimidated by its size, Mat’s youngest son, Griffin, is not sure what to think about his dad’s trophy.
Deja vu? No. This fish escaped once, but after 45 years of pursuit, determination, and frustration, it did not escape again. Mat patiently worked the fish back up to the boat and Dave netted the fish and swung it aboard. It was done. The Scheibelhut family had a musky to their name.
“We did it!” is what Mat screamed. True to his humble nature he used the pronoun "we" to include his dad, “I got it to the boat, but he got it in the boat.”
But that pronoun included a lot more. It also included his wife, children, mom, grandma, and grandpa. This defining moment was possible only because of the countless dollars pumped into the Minnesota economy that began in 1963 from several generations of a family that began with a single family vacation, which never really ended; just placed on hold until next summer.
The fish measured 42 inches and went on his wall back home. Mat admits, “I know, for most, this is not a trophy-sized fish, but it is for me. After so many years, and catching it with my dad, it is my trophy.”
“We did it!” is what Mat screamed. True to his humble nature he used the pronoun "we" to include his dad, “I got it to the boat, but he got it in the boat.”
But that pronoun included a lot more. It also included his wife, children, mom, grandma, and grandpa. This defining moment was possible only because of the countless dollars pumped into the Minnesota economy that began in 1963 from several generations of a family that began with a single family vacation, which never really ended; just placed on hold until next summer.
The fish measured 42 inches and went on his wall back home. Mat admits, “I know, for most, this is not a trophy-sized fish, but it is for me. After so many years, and catching it with my dad, it is my trophy.”
Who can argue? Family traditions and vacations are not about size, they are about memories. As Dave looked at his son with pride, Mat’s two boys looked up at him with admiration, Kathy was reminded of her own father who began it all, “I knew my Dad was looking from above and was happy.”
After catching his musky, Mat and Dave took their fish to Longville, MN (world capital of turtle racing) to hold in the freezing tank at the One Stop Convenience Store until they could locate a taxidermist. Unfortunately, they were out of space and they were left scrambling to find a taxidermist.
Still pumped up from his catch, Mat holds his fish while son, Clayton, looks on in admiration. Dave carries his grandson, Griffin, down for a closer examination.
From the beginning of time, fishing has brought family and friends together. This story should remind us all of the importance of family and what brings them together. Few are blessed to begin traditions that last 4 generations.
From the beginning of time, fishing has brought family and friends together. This story should remind us all of the importance of family and what brings them together. Few are blessed to begin traditions that last 4 generations.
Dave recalls: “When Mat was four years old, I caught a big Northern Pike when he was in the boat. It was a tremendous battle that ended with us drifting in to the weeds - what a mess!” But the bigger catch was Mat; he was instantly hooked on pike.