With no stripers around, I decided to do something I love in theory but have zero luck with in reality: muskie fish. My good friend Mark is a muskie freak of the highest caliber, and when you talk to him you get instantly fired up. He had a nice tiger muskie on Saturday, and some of his fellow muskie nuts fared well, too. Sunday morning we had a primo lake all to ourselves. Mild air temp. Not a breath of wind. It could not have felt more right, yet it turned out oh so wrong. We fished from 9 a.m. to dark without so much as a sniff. This, of course, I don't blame on conditions as much as me being a muskie jinx. With the exception of one trip to Western PA, Mark has never caught a muskie or even gotten a decent follow with me on the boat. Why he still invites me I don't know.