Josh Stevenson is a rare Minnesota angler and fishing guide --
he never leaves the Twin Cities.

"I think I've fished Lake Mille Lacs twice in my life,'' said the Woodbury resident. "I'm a firm believer that all the big fish you need are right here in the Twin Cities."Maybe Stevenson, 30, is just smart like a fox.In 2004, when he was on his way to earning a B.A. in communications and sociology from the University of Minnesota, Stevenson bought Blue Ribbon Bait and Tackle in Oakdale.Knowing a few things about human behavior, Stevenson realized it wasn't a bad thing being a homebody angler, especially with so many good fishing lakes to choose from in the Twin Cities. So today, he devotes his time to promoting fishing in Twin Cities lakes and rivers, especially muskie fishing.He has the credentials to back it up: In 1999, he caught the state-record tiger muskie -- a 34-pound behemoth that is a cross between a muskie and northern pike -- from Lake Elmo, just a few blocks from where he grew up.Last week, he spent part of Monday fishing muskies at two of his favorite haunts -- Bald Eagle in White Bear Township and Lake Owasso, which straddles Roseville and Vadnais Heights.Both lakes, like many in the Twin Cities, are regularly stocked with muskies by the Department of Natural Resources."The DNR is doing a good job with muskies,'' Stevenson said while he cast a topwater lure called a Pacemaker just as the morning sun crept over the horizon. "Bald Eagle is a lake where your odds are always good for catching a muskie."Unfortunately, the weather wasn't cooperating. Stevenson fretted about a cold front that swept through the Twin Cities starting the week before, and he believed the cool temperatures had put all the fish in a funk.Stevenson said weather is a key factor in catching muskies, and hot weather is best. His favorite month for muskie fishing is July -- he caught the state record on July 7 -- and he likes long periods of hot, stable weather that will put muskies on a feeding binge.GOOD STUDENTWhile some anglers believe Twin Cities lakes are overfished, Stevenson doesn't buy it."They might be overwater-skied, but not overpressured by fishermen,'' he said. "They have plenty of big fish."To be successful, urban anglers need to know where big fish live and the bottom structure of the lakes that attract fish like muskies, Stevenson said. He also believes it's best to fish urban lakes when other boaters aren't around, such as early in the morning, on weekdays and even at night.When it comes to studying metro lakes, Stevenson is like an archaeologist looking for priceless artifacts. He studies every rocky underwater bar, drop-off and weed bed in a lake, memorizing their every topographic detail. No area of the lake goes unexplored.On Bald Eagle, he fished one rock pile for more than an hour, casting across the top, then working lures down the sides and then casting and trolling the deep water nearby for muskies. He watched his depth finder constantly, monitoring his progress around the underwater pile of rocks.In this regard, he's a devotee of the "father of structure fishing," Buck Perry, the North Carolina fishing pioneer who died in 2005 at 90. Perry's 1973 book on fishing underwater "structure" -- rocks, drop-offs and weeds -- is considered a classic, and Stevenson admits the book strongly influenced his views on fishing when he read it as teenager."God's gift to fishing was Buck Perry,'' said Stevenson. "He was genius."It explains why Blue Ribbon Bait and Tackle is Minnesota's largest retailer of Spoonplugs, the unique metal lure Perry invented in the 1970s that is designed to troll at varying depths.It also explains why Stevenson often trolls for muskies, a technique Perry espoused but one that is a dying art among muskie anglers, who nearly always cast for muskies these days.Stevenson does both. After a morning of casting on Bald Eagle Lake, Stevenson switched to trolling but still couldn't hook a muskie. But when he drove to Lake Owasso and launched his boat later in the morning, he caught his first and only muskie of the day -- a 28-incher -- while trolling a Spoonplug.Even though it was a small muskie, Stevenson's infectious enthusiasm for the species broke through the clouds of a tough day of fishing."Man, I just love these little guys,'' he gushed about the young muskie. "They're just so cool looking with these spots. Now, I'm pumped! I got to hold a muskie, and that's a good thing. I'm excited now."CONTENT FISHERMANGrowing up without a father, Stevenson admits he probably found many of his influential father figures at Blue Ribbon Bait, where he started working as a clerk when he was 14. At the store, he vacuumed up fishing knowledge and developed a deeply rooted fascination for angling.Fishing, Stevenson said, taught him about life -- and changed his life."There is nothing better on this planet than fishing,'' said Stevenson, who deferred graduate school so he could buy Blue Ribbon."You might not remember that party you went to with your friends, but you'll always remember the big fish you caught with someone. I see it on kids' faces when I guide them and their parents. I just love that look on someone's face when they catch a fish, especially a big fish."That's another reason I love the bait shop,'' he continued. "People are happy when they come there. They've made it through their week of work, and now they're going fishing. Sure, you get a few grumpy people, but there's such joy in going fishing. You also see every age, race and social level of person in the store. Every part of society comes in through the door. I was going to go to grad school and maybe become a professor, and I still might, but I love that bait shop."Catching the state-record muskie only fueled his passion for angling, Stevenson said.For weeks after that fateful day in July, Stevenson said he could barely eat or sleep -- he was so excited about his record fish, which is mounted and hanging in the Blue Ribbon. He described the experience like "winning the lottery," and it changed his life in many ways. It gave him credibility with anglers and future clients and, in short, made him famous.The story of his record fish ran on the front page of the Pioneer Press.Stevenson didn't catch many fish on Monday, but he knows the hot action lies in the month ahead.He also knows his muskie record will be broken some day, and he's prepared for that moment."I'll walk up the guy who does it and congratulate him,'' he said. "I've gotten all I need from that day in my life. I'd love to see someone else get that feeling."Stevenson smiled at the memory. He found his fame and passion right here in the urban lakes of the Twin Cities. They changed his life.It is no wonder he has never wanted to leave.Chris Niskanen can be reached at cniskanen@pioneerpress.com or 651-228-5524. Josh Stevenson's fishing Web site is www.mightymusky.com