I’m back and happy to tell you about the musky my son caught

Remember me? I hope you do.

I took a surprise vacation for a month, but it wasn’t the kind of vacation I would have chosen if I had my choice. I would have chosen a trip to chase monster fish in either Canada or down in Central America, but that isn’t where I spent the last month.

I’ve spent the last month in Central DuPage Hospital’s ICU ward and in Marianjoy’s rehab center recovering from the stroke I suffered the beginning of June.

I know what you are thinking. How could such a handsome, youthful and vibrant young guy be hit with such an affliction? (I hope you can detect my sarcasm.) I guess I should have listened to the health experts a long time ago.

I intend to count on all of you for ideas, suggestions and anecdotes to help me fill up this space. I thank you in advance.

In the meantime I’ll be doing a lot of fishing vicariously through my youngest son, Daniel. He’s married to his lovely bride, Kristin, and they have a 16-month-old daughter, Emily, who is the most important thing in my life right now (of course, right after my wife, Joyce.)

With a new baby at home, it’s hard for Dan to fish anywhere as near as much as he’d like to, only what family obligations afford him.

The day before I hit the ICU, Dan pulled up to the Fox River in the Western suburbs for a few casts on his way home from work. He hoped to hook up with a smallmouth bass or two, from a spot that had produced for him before. He had a medium-weight rod and reel hooked up with some very lightweight braided fishing line.

Dan was tossing a medium-sized black-and-blue plastic Keitech swim bait into water that was only a foot-and-a-half to 2 feet deep when he felt something hit the bait. It didn’t take him long to realize that it was a fish. It didn’t take much longer for him to realize that what was on his hook was not the smallmouth bass that he was hoping to hook up with.

“Oh my God! l I think I’ve got a musky on the line,” he thought.

He was correct. I wish I could have watched him bring it in. Dan had no scale or tape measure with him, but most people have told him the fish was in the upper 30s and weighed in the teens. To land a fish of these dimensions on very light line and no net must have been a masterful task. The beast was back in the Fox quickly and can be caught again. I am proud of Dan.

I remember seeing my first musky chase my bait right up the side of the boat. It never even took a swipe at the lure, but I remember my heart pounding.

It was incredible. Of course, I remember the first musky I ever caught. It hit a topwater plug and it wasn’t much different in size than Dan’s first fish.

A fisherman’s first musky is something that is never forgotten. Muskies are different from any other fish. They can haunt you and take your brain over. An angler can become obsessed with them and think of nothing else. I can’t think of anything that can make me cast super-heavy lures for 15 hours with virtually no break than a musky.

Don’t worry, my sweet baby Emily. I won’t let your daddy abandon you for a fish. I promise.

• Daily Herald Outdoors columnist Steve Sarley can be reached at sarfishing@yahoo.com.