Freakishly large creatures are intriguing by nature.  Amongst ants, the oversized Army Ant is a visual spectacle. A 25 pound wild turkey does it for some folks. For others, it takes 300 pounds of whitetail deer. But I dare say that a genuine pound of bluegill lights the eyes of anyone lucky to see it, let alone catch such an enigmatic beast.      

 That’s the fish of dreams. 16 ounces of pure, unadulterated, buffalo-headed bluegill. Barely fits in your palm. Heck, it barely fits in a dream.

 So what’s an angler to do? Spend the next umpteen years chasing the white elephant? Not to say you’ll never put the pins to a pounder; they’re out there. But on the average outing to the average lake, it’s a long shot. Buy lottery tickets instead.

 With that said, however, Ice Team’s Brian “Bro” Brosdahl – Mr. Bluegill extraordinaire – submits his criterion for building better bluegills.

 First and foremost, Brosdahl endorses diversity. He’s not talking about the love your neighbor no matter what kind, either. No, he means in sense of habit, where they live. Brosdahl looks for lakes with features unimaginable, a fusion of emergent and submerged weeds, deep basins, offshore rock structure, sprawling flats, and plenty of food, some of which is unorthodox.

 Scuds (freshwater shrimp), for example, hastily add to a bluegill’s waistline. So do small perch, young of the year. Brosdahl says that juvenile perch are part of an important but seldom acknowledged food chain. Small perch eat bluegill fry like its going out of style, in turn culling overabundances of bluegills that would otherwise be in competition. On the flip-side, alpha bluegills throw down tiny perch like cocktail wieners. Yes, broad-shouldered bluegills are quite carnivorous.

 Brosdahl can’t say enough about weeds and overall lake fertility. Sterility and ‘bluegill-ity’ don’t go hand in hand. The littoral zone (water less than 15-feet deep) constitutes 50 percent or more of the acreage on the typical Brosdahl lake. More shallows translate into more weeds, and normally more ‘waterlife’, namely edible zooplankton. By winter, depending on the lake, the bulk of the weeds might be down, but trust that they played an important role during every minute of their existence. And on a clear lake, where the weeds grow deep, some if not most might make it through the winter, providing sanctuary and foraging grounds.

 Weed variety is beneficial, too. Brosdahl speaks of places yielding a blend of surface hardstem bulrushes, wild rice, and lily pads, all living in harmony amongst cabbage, coontail, and even sand grass. But when the rubber meets the road, he’s got a weakness for cabbage – nasty, thick beds that are big as a garage and rise to or near the surface. And they’re best when linked to other beds, creating a colony.

 Do predators factor in? Brosdahl says, “Absolutely.” Herds need to be thinned for select bluegills to grow. Brosdahl likes lakes with giant pike, small to medium sized largemouth bass, and, sorry to say, dogfish. Adult pike eighty-six their fair share of ‘average size’ bluegills, infrequently swallowing wide-bodied bulls. Non-trophy class bass eat an awful lot of smallish bluegills, too. Again, the school is sacrificed for the growth of some. And those relics that time forgot – dogfish – consider small to medium sized bluegills a delicacy as well.  

 And this brings us to your lake. The one on the other side of town. Perhaps the one within driving distance from the office. She’s plump full of bluegills, but not known for giving up size. Big, then, is a relative term. If half-pounders are at the top of the curve, they’re your alphas. Don’t settle for smaller. Give the dinks to the weekenders and plan to catch two fish for every pound of bluegill.

 So, before throwing out a list of possible spots that may or may not match the lake in question, it’s prudent to consider windows, timeframes. Best time for plucking bulls? Brosdahl says early ice and late ice, with an inflection on the latter. Full Moon? It’s a big deal to Brosdahl. With complete decisiveness, he claims that the moon’s power when full or nearly fully beckons big bluegills to bite. The morning and evening splurges are strongest. And on a clear night, when the moon is whole, Brosdahl stays the course and catches fish deep into the darkness.

 Okay, say its midwinter and the moon is weeks from being full. Throw in the towel? Nah. Now it gets down to spots, big fish spots. First amongst them are rock piles, the walleye-looking stuff. Don’t go to the rocks looking for numbers, though. It’s quality over quantity. Brosdahl prefers rock piles that sport weeds over its crown, but vegetation isn’t mandatory. He also favors loose, chunky rock bottoms over round, symmetrical boulders. He theorizes that more crayfish and insect-life reside amongst the busted pieces.

 The best rock piles, in his experience, sprout from 15 to 25 foot flats, rising to depths that are still fishable, not poking through the ice. And if you find one, fish patiently, or don’t bother at all. Bulls in the rocks seldom travel in herds.

 Another, shall we say, ‘non-typical’ alpha bluegill spot is what Bro terms “hard-bottomed humps”. Instead of being rock-based, these elevated areas are constructed with gravel, sand, and sometimes clam and snail pieces. In Brosdahl’s world, prospective hard-bottomed humps occur in eight to 20 feet of water, sometimes only rising a few feet. Gold-standard versions, he says, feature some weed growth. Typically, that means a few whorls of coontail or scattered stalks of cabbage.

 Humps really cook in the morning and evening hours, especially the weedy crown areas. By day, however, bull bluegills can be tracked between the base of the hump and the nearest deep water escape. This reiterates the desirability of fishing structure nearest a plunge into the basin.                

 Now check a hydrological map of your lake. Bet there’s either a rock pile or hard-bottom hump, possibly both, possibly many of them. But it doesn’t end there. Brosdahl adds underwater points to the list. Not the obvious shoreline point with the red cabin, either. He’s talking about subtle underwater points that leach into the lake. Weedy ones rank highest. Weedy ones with ‘inside turns’ steal the show. Bro postulates that bluegills will follow a straight line, such as a weedline, but seldom hold for long. Inside turns, or ‘hooks’, conversely, tend to corral fish.

 Brosdahl summarizes by saying, “I don’t know the bus schedule, so it’s hard to pick bus stops along the way. But I do know where the bus station is. Everything will eventually end up there.”

 And that’s a good enough illustration for me to seek a hook.

 Now I know your lake’s got an underwater point. Right? Well if not, Brosdahl has one more arrow in the quiver: river channels. More lakes have them than you might think. Consult with a map or ask the locals. A lot of “natural lakes” feature ancient current-cuts along the basin. Easily observable channels might already be picked clean, so Brosdahl suggest searching for understated specimens.

 So there you are. A handful of plausible alpha bluegill spots from one of the leading experts on bagging bulls. The masterminding of bluegills doesn’t end there, however. Big fish and little fish spots aren’t always exclusive. Commingling occurs. With that in mind, Brosdahl says to get to the bottom of the school in a hurry. You’ll almost always find the biggest fish at the bottom of the bunch.

 According to Brosdahl, the school’s biggest members also hang close to the deepest water available. They’ll literally position on the outside of the school, assumedly leaving themselves preeminent access to safety. That might explain their existence, if you know what I mean.

 Besides, trophy-class bluegills are known roamers. Brosdahl says they’ll cruise open and flat expanses, hanging near ‘classic’ bluegill territory, but maintaining a distance from the ankle-biters and potato chips.      

 To beat the bothersome fish, breezing to the bottom, Brosdahl fishes quite large, or at least heavy. He first blasts with a jigging spoon, not the normal, measly teardrop. His go-to spoon is the 1/16^th ounce Lindy Techni-Glo Perch Frostee Jigging Spoon smothered in waxworms or maggots. Bold bluegills welcome the young-of-the-year pattern. Plus, the lure’s backside is gold, and Brosdahl says gold is a personal favorite for big bluegills, citing their carnivorous desires.

 Plan B is slightly more traditional. His choice is a heavy-for-its-size horizontal jig, like the Lindy Fat Boy. It, also, imitates finned-quarry versus the typical insect stuff.