Pull Hard Fishing 2025: The Year of Chubster, Chaos, and Questionable Cardio

10/26/20256 min read

Not much of a fishing report today, people…mostly because, well, I haven’t been fishing in a couple of weeks. (Yes, Mark, you can close her out now, buddy.) Still made it back to Ludington this weekend though. On the agenda: run the last Run Ludington 5K, unload the Tiara, maybe hang a few fish mounts, maybe bowl, maybe buy another bike, maybe stop at Chuck’s (depends on how depressed I get looking at all my off-season salmon gear), and, of course, type this blog to wrap up one heck of a year.

I went for a sunset bike ride Friday night and was rudely reminded that late-October air bites. Note to self: even when the wind is calm, there’s still windchill when you ride as fast as me. (Good thing I run much, much slower.)

Okay, let’s talk 5K. If you’ve been following along, you already know I freakin’ hate the act of running…but love the feeling when I’m done. This year I somehow did three 5Ks, which also means I’ve done three 5Ks in my entire life. Here’s the stat sheet:

Run Ludington New Year’s Resolution 5K: 31:40
Run Ludington PM XC 5K: 31:59 (technically the wrong direction)
Ludington Lakestride 5K: 29:41 (broke 30:00 — huge deal for me)

This weekend’s race was called “Run for Your Lives.” Probably a Halloween thing but also appropriate since my main goal before every race is “don’t die.” Couple technical difficulties this time: my watch didn’t start (gloves + cold = disaster), and when it finally did, I somehow triggered Taylor Swift to start blasting at half a mile in. Picture me frantically slapping buttons, freezing, and praying nobody around heard “Shake It Off.” Apple knows best though — it fixed itself — and I finished with a personal best 29:23, first in my age group! Bigger news? Surgeon Jenn ran her first ever 5K. My 1/1/25 run was my first, so I know that feeling. See one, do one, teach one, Jenn.

Huge thanks to Alison and Nick for cheering us on (and documenting proof). Nick was supposed to run… still not sure what happened there. He’s since promised to do the New Year’s Day 5K with me. We’ll see.

After the race I did what any well-rounded endurance athlete would do: Ordered a new mountain bike from Kyle’s Trail Head Bikes, Cleaned out the Tiara and hauled all my fishing gear back to the condo, bought the very last Mini Yeah Mon at Captain Chuck’s (because what if Mr. Chrome stops making them?!), hung a musky, bass, and walleye in the condo, ate a rice bowl with no rice at the Sportsman, bought the winning Powerball ticket at Wesco (no donuts, man — those days are over), and procrastinated my UWGB schoolwork by typing this blog for you fine folks.

Season in Review — The People’s Circus

Pull Hard Fishing isn’t a charter business, it’s a full-contact sport of friendship, superstition, bad donuts, worse decisions, and the relentless pursuit of good mojo. What started as a way to blow off steam from my day job has turned into a living, breathing sitcom starring spoons, meat rigs, and the ever-mysterious Yeck Chubster.

The season kicked off with the official re-emergence of the Chubster…the undisputed lure of the gods. If you’re new here, the Chubster isn’t just a spoon; it’s a lifestyle choice. That humble beauty on a 3-color saved more mornings than caffeine ever did.

Early spring brought banana juju, cinnamon-roll regret, and Fireball forgiveness all in one weekend. Tim, Todd “Jackpot”, Charlie, and Kaedin rolled through pretending they knew what they were doing while I “supervised” with a Wesco donut in hand (back when I still ate those things).

Then came Fish On For Freedom, hosting four veterans and watching the Chubster do its thing in front of the whole Ludington fleet. There are good fishing days — and then there are days that mean something. (Okay, fine, we only landed two dink fish, but it still counts.)

By June, the docks were buzzing. “Water too warm!” “Water too cold!” “Bottom crud everywhere!” Same song, different verse. The crew list exploded — new friends, old friends, and two guys (The Dons) who climbed onto the wrong boat. Instant classic. Blog gold.

If spring shook off the rust, summer was full-throttle chaos. We started with the Big Boys Tournament, where we heroically saved $1,000 by not entering and writing about it instead. Day 2 became a “sick day” featuring Fireball and regret — but the Chubster still caught fish, so technically a win.

The Ladies AM Tournament? Highlight of the year. Tacos, shots, laughter, and just enough fish to make it look professional.

Then came the Ludington Offshore Classic, a rollercoaster of ice-cream highs and muffin-curse lows. Day 1: adrenaline. Day 2: baked-goods betrayal. Lesson learned…muffins have the same cursed energy as bananas.

And who could forget the Temple weekends? Hats, nicknames, philosophical debates about “The Goat.” (Spoiler: The Goat’s real. I was just looking for the copper version today. Or was it gold?)

By August, we were knee-deep in Bread, Banter & Big Kings. Gustafson Games weekend was part fishing, part stand-up comedy, tramp stamp jokes, Fireball dance moves, and Gus proving that breakdancing and downriggers don’t mix. Top-tier entertainment.

Then came Boats N’ Hoes & Kings and Steelhead — the most Pull Hard weekend of all time: great people, dumb jokes, questionable snacks, and fish that didn’t stand a chance.

By Labor Day, the water went weird. Mini-dinks (fish shorter than your average hotdog) replaced the hogs. Still, we fished through it , fueled by Soup Club leftovers, caffeine, and a steadily improving 5K pace that probably helped me reel faster.

September and October were pure poetry — or chaos, depending on your perspective. My truck died (again), then resurrected itself thanks to Watson Dealership. I ping-ponged between Ludington and home, juggling work, grad school, and Soup Club Tuesday — and somehow still fished every weekend.

We tested the Logan Luck Hypothesis and concluded that Logan isn’t lucky; he’s strategically fishy. The man can identify a diver’s setting just by how it vibrates. Witchcraft, I tell ya.

Then came the Pat Parker Pie Apple weekend — the mysterious dessert incident. Was it apple? Peach? Both? We’ll never know. WTF?

And of course, Cowboy Boots, Cleanses & Chubster Panic Buying…the perfect fall trifecta. A detox gone wrong, cowboy boots (a known bad-luck charm), and the panic purchase of the last Chubster in existence “just in case Ged stops making them.”

October sunsets in Ludington are world-class — the sun drops behind the lighthouse, the lake glows gold, and for a moment the whole season seems to tip its hat and say, “Nice work, kid.” (I now call myself “kid” in 3rd person)

My Cast of Characters…This year wasn’t just about fish — it was about the people who made it ridiculous, hilarious, and kind of perfect. I’m reluctant to call out anyone because when you spend as much time with you people as I did this year, well, I get to know everyone quite well and truly appreciated every moment – well , almost.

THE Nick: Always brings the right energy (and occasionally not enough beer). Keeps morale up even when the rods go quiet.
Charlie Daniels: Not that one, but easily as entertaining. Fisherman, philosopher, good dude.
Petunia Josh: My rock this season (and yes, that’s what you tell sensitive people). Legit first mate material — cool under pressure, good with tangles, and wears proper shoes.
THE Logan: The legend. Equal parts genius and wizard. Only man to badmouth the Chubster and live to tell about it.
Surgeon Jenn: Calm, capable, and the queen of “see one, do one, teach one.” Ran longlines and dipsys like a pro and somehow made trolling feel surgical.
Alison: GRL PWR – something like that!
Todd “Jackpot” Reed, Tim, Kaedin, Big Fish Brad, The Temple Crew, Matt Brown’s Tribe, Gus Gang: Each brought their own brand of ridiculous.
Joe & Adam: For helping me find the hogs when I got lost out there.

The Hot Bite Leaderboard: I was going to go back and summarize all the hot bites, but…jeeze, can’t you people do something for yourselves? I was completely committed to posting all bites, including pictures, of every trip – it’s all there!

2025 was that perfect blend of ridiculous and meaningful. We had record bites, broken reels, gorgeous sunrises, random Swift sing-alongs, and more stories than a Tiara should legally contain. Next year? Who knows. Maybe 75 different people. Maybe new 5K PRs. Maybe I’ll finally learn the difference between a hike and a walk. One thing’s certain — as long as there’s a sunrise, a spoon in the water, and someone dumb enough to bring donuts, Pull Hard Fishing will keep rolling. Until spring, my Ludington friends…Keep your spoons shiny, your mojo clean, and your Chubsters locked in the safe.