There’s something about spring pike that gets under your skin. Maybe it’s the rush of a sudden strike in shallow water, maybe it’s those broad-shouldered torpedoes lunging from the reeds. Whatever it is—springtime pike fishing in Canada is addictive. But man, it’s also kinda humbling. One wrong move and you’re just casting practice.

Let’s talk about those wrong moves. Because honestly, most of us (yep, even the diehards) make the same few mistakes when the ice melts and the fish start waking up. The good news? They’re fixable. And the even better news? Fixing ’em usually means more fish and less frustration.

You ever watch a guy chuck a 1-ounce jig into 20 feet of water in May? Yeah, he’s not gonna catch much.

See, early spring pike are shaking off their winter funk. They’re not hanging out deep anymore—they’re nosing into the shallows, chasing warmth, bait, and sometimes, love. That old “slow and low” winter technique? Doesn’t really fly when water temps are rising and the fish are getting frisky.

The fix?
Think shallow bays, dark-bottomed inlets, weedy shorelines—anywhere the sun hits and sticks. And no, you don’t have to crawl your bait like you’re ice fishing. A moderate retrieve with the occasional pause can do wonders. Pike in spring? They’ve got energy to burn, and they’re hungry.

Here’s the thing: spring pike aren’t just wandering around aimlessly. They’ve got business to handle. And that business? Spawning.

Miss the pre-spawn push and you’re too early. Hit the tail-end of the spawn and you might swear the lake is empty. Pike tend to be moody during the actual spawn, but catch ’em just before or just after? Jackpot.

What do you do about it?
Time your trips around water temps, not the calendar. Once temps hit around 40–50°F (4–10°C), pike move to shallow spawning grounds—marshy areas, slow creeks, flooded shorelines. After they spawn, the big girls don’t go far. They slide into the nearest weedy flats and chill. That’s your window.

Let’s be real—most of us love big, flashy lures. The kind that make a splash when they hit the water and scream “Look at me!” But in early spring? Sometimes that’s just too much.

Pike can be a little spooky after the spawn. Water’s still a bit cold. Their eyes are sharp, and they’re not always in the mood for a disco ball with treble hooks.

Instead…
Scale it down. Go for more natural-looking baits—smaller spoons, swimbaits, or suspending jerkbaits in earthy tones like perch, gold, or even dull white. Think subtle seduction, not loud persuasion.

Wind. It’s annoying, sure. Messes up your casts, splashes water in your face, flips your boat around. But you know what? Pike love the stuff. Especially in spring.

Wind blows warmer surface water into shorelines. It stirs up baitfish, muddies the shallows just enough to give pike a little cover, and gets the whole food chain moving.

So, yeah… fish the wind-blown side.
Don’t tuck into the calm bay because it’s “easier.” Hit that shoreline where the wind’s been pushing in all morning. It may look messy, but trust me, it’s where the action usually is.

You cast. You reel. You cast again. Same speed. Same direction. Same outcome—nothing.

Pike are curious predators. They’ll follow a bait halfway to the boat just to decide it’s not worth the trouble. But change things up—throw in a twitch, a stop, a sudden burn—and bam. It’s like flipping a switch.

The move here?
Vary your retrieve. Cast shallow, then deep. Pause mid-retrieve. Give the bait a pop or two. Make it look like it’s panicking or injured. Pike don’t want to work too hard, but they also can’t resist an easy meal that’s trying to get away.

We’ve all been there—tinkering with leaders, swapping reels, arguing over fluorocarbon vs. wire… and meanwhile, the fish are stacked in a shallow bay a quarter-mile away.

Yes, your gear matters. But in spring, location trumps everything. You could be using the perfect lure on the perfect rod, but if you’re fishing the wrong spot? Doesn’t matter.

So scout smart.
Look for shallow, dark-bottomed bays. Anywhere a creek or stream enters the lake—huge bonus. Think “nursery zone”—warm, calm, and loaded with minnows. That’s where the pike want to be.

Look, pike can be predictable. Until they’re not. That’s part of the fun, right? One day you’re landing tanks left and right, the next you’re muttering to yourself about how the lake must be cursed.

It happens. To everyone.

The key is staying curious. Don’t lock into one pattern just because it worked last week. Let the fish tell you what they want. And when they do? Hold on tight—spring pike hit like they mean it.

So next time you’re on Canadian water, with your fingers half-frozen and your reel screaming, remember: a couple of small tweaks can mean the difference between a slow day and a story you’ll tell all year.

And hey—if all else fails, blame the wind. It’s what we all do.