Senko-type worm yeilded a few small bass in the back of Mount Hope Pond along the west side. Sunfish tore the worm up, and when they peck like this on nearly every cast, annoying the hell out of me after a while, bass usually aren't interested. Makes sense. If sunfish are this incautious, the bass probably aren't feeding.
This pond--beautiful place, the glacial stone is an unforgettable reminder of time's lingering rather than passage--is so full of sunfish you would think bass would be all over too. But bass are fairly rare. Last year every one I caught seemed to be three pounds, though. Not quite really, but average size is about that.
Solitary mood again. Cloud cover, dampness on the leaves, a lone breeze keeping steady felt fishy and it flashed on me that at Round Valley I might be doing better.
I did persist and get over a mood that tried to return me to the soil like everything passive. Nonetheless, I resolved to get out the maps this weekend and go elsewhere next week. That could be a bad choice; one never knows. Big bass are in this pond. Who knows, maybe this is why I have never caught a largemouth over five pounds, that I'm too restless and choose to move on when waiting it out would bring the result. I fish by moods. Last year this place was glory. Felt like it would reward me this year too, then sagged out, and I just don't want to come back anytime soon and deal with that.
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