Griz on the go

The trio also fished the St. Croix, chaining the boat to a tree when they went home in the evening, crappies and walleyes dangling from their stringer.

But the boat showed its age with each fishing trip, and finally, one night, the river rose, the current quickened and the chain let go.

Downriver the boat went, never to be seen again.

A two-bit shrink might say that Griz has been looking for that boat ever since, trying to capture old times.

Now, even at age 66, few are the days during fishing season when he's not on the St. Croix.

Or the Mississippi. Or Mille Lacs.

"Before gas got so expensive, I would put in 300 days a year on the water," he said. "That's counting my guiding and the times I fished for myself. But this winter I couldn't afford to go, unless I was guiding. Like a lot of people, the price of gas is holding me home."

Known for his river fishing, particularly for his expertise on the St. Croix, Griz is no less an experienced angler -- an expert, really -- on waters in western Minnesota, in the north-central and in the far north.

Time was not many years ago when he led trips out of his Oakdale home to Leech Lake, even to Lake of the Woods.

"I used to own a car that said on it, 'Have boat, will travel,' " Griz said. "I traveled the whole state."

He has slowed down a bit, though just a little. During one stretch last summer he put 39 consecutive days on Mille Lacs without a break, guiding each day, rough water or not.

"I'm happy with my life," he said. "I get to go fishing. What more do you want?"

A high school dropout, Griz quit school at 16 to work construction. Then he was in a motorcycle accident that almost cost him a leg. He couldn't work for three years."

"When I came back, I worked at a plating place for eight years, then on a loading dock for 20," he said. "All the while I was fishing. Finally, the loading dock got under my skin and I quit.

"When I told the guys on the dock I was going to be a fishing guide, they all laughed at me. But two years later, they closed the place up, and everyone was out of work anyway."

Spring season begins in March

When March breaks, Griz begins his open-water fishing season. He has two boats -- a 16-foot johnboat and a 20-foot Ranger. Both are operated from the tiller, and when Griz drops the johnboat into the Mississippi near Red Wing in late winter, he's fixin' to hover atop schools of walleyes pushed up against Lock & Dam No. 3.

"I like the johnboat for the river because it's light," Griz said.

In most springs, the early-season Mississippi walleye action slows by mid-March. The sauger bite hangs on a few days thereafter. Then Griz moves to inland lakes for bluegills, his favorite eating fish.

"That usually lasts two weeks or so," he said.

When walleye season opens on the St. Croix, as it did Saturday, Griz heads to that river -- essentially his home water.

Not uncommonly, clients finish outings with him on the St. Croix with Griz having caught as many as a hundred fish. Sometimes this occurs on the south end of the river, near Prescott, Wis., sometimes farther upriver, north of Stillwater.

"Actually, I'll guide all the way up to Taylors Falls," he said. "I'm there every opener. Always have been. From 1947 to 1960, I only missed one opener on the St. Croix."

Frankie Dusenka of Frankie's Bait and Marine in Chisago City was just a kid when Griz's parents first stopped by what was then Dusenka's dad's bait shop.

"Griz was just a kid then, too, and they'd be in the shop all the time," Dusenka said. "Later, when Griz got older and started bringing big fish into the shop to be weighed, I said, 'I've got to get to know this guy.' "

The two have been friends since, and they fish together regularly.

"I'll tell you why Griz is such a good fisherman," Dusenka said. "It's because he spends so much time on the water. I've fished with a lot of guys. Nobody does it like he does. He knows the water by heart."

Years ago, when anglers kept more fish than they do now, Griz regularly came into Frankie's with limits of smallmouth bass over 5 pounds apiece and limits of walleyes weighing more than 7 pounds each.

"Nobody does that anymore, including Griz," Dusenka said. "But I remember once he brought a huge northern into the shop -- bigger than any northern I had seen. He said he caught it in Comfort Lake. But I knew he didn't. He actually caught it in South Center."

Tying jigs; tying into walleyes

Michael Jordan has basketball shoes named for him. The Lindy Rig is named for Al and Ron Lindner, the star fishermen who modified, marketed and promoted sliding sinker outfits for walleye anglers.

Not to be outdone, Griz has a jig with his name on it.

Unlike most jigs, this one has feathers.

"I've been tying feathers on jigs for 40 years, since jigs first started coming out," he said.

"Griz Jigs" are manufactured with feathers of various colors; white ones are best for walleyes, their namesake says.

"They work great," he said, "but when I'm with customers I usually use regular jigs because mine are too expensive."

Griz recalls one time on Lake of the Woods when he was guiding a friend who played for the New York Rangers.

"At the time, I had never been on that water in my life," Griz said. "But my friend and some of his friends towed my boat up there, and the first night at the resort we all went into the pub. When the guides at the resort found out I was guiding my bunch, they were very rude to me."

The next morning, Griz outfitted his crew with his handcrafted jigs and pushed away from the dock.

They returned at day's end with their limit of 24 walleyes -- while the other guides struggled.

"The next day we came in for shore lunch at noon, and again I had my 24 walleyes," Griz said. "Pretty soon these guys were saying, 'Holy cripe! We've got to go fishing with this guy.'

"But I never did. They had been rude to me, and I never told them a thing about how I did it."