Bottom Grindin’, Middle Movin’, and Top
Teasin’
By
Bruce Edward Litton
By early March, lakes and reservoirs
of the Northeast region typically ice-out, largemouth bass lethargically
responsive to a variety of lure techniques. Two years ago it didn’t happen until
days before trout Opening Day in the New Jersey Highlands, early in April. This
year, water has remained open most of the winter, but when ice cover helps
compose winter as I like it, shallow, stained ponds open long before lakes and
reservoirs, especially ponds with a feeder creek that pumps in runoff to break up
ice. Late winter/early spring fishing begins at bottom.
Gravel or hard bottoms of 8-20 feet invite
the use of an old standby, the Johnson Beetle Spin, and I could be wrong, but I
would almost bet a lot of us have never heard of this spinnerbait with a
detaching arm. The Beetle Spin’s insecurity adds special effectiveness for a method
I called “tick spinning” during my teens, because the second hand of my watch
rotated around the dial almost as slowly as the crank of my reel completed a
turn. The cupped Colorado blade just waggles along without spinning. Instead of
holding a fixed place, the arm subtly moves about as the jig head crawls over
gravel or along hard bottom, not so much imitating a crawfish or any other sort
of creature, but creating a very effective presentation that the slow metabolism of a bass responds to regardless of close
imitation to anything living down in the cold darkness.
In a toss-up between much more
popular tube jigs and the throwback Beetle Spin, I would put my money on the
less popular lure bass see a lot less, because the cricketing metal seems just
the ticket to getting the attention of metabolically deficient bass, whether or
not the bass’s familiarity with tube jigs has anything at all to do with
getting more strikes from the Beetle Spin.
Another old standby, in-line spinners
achieve performance perfection through the mid-column early in the season for a
number of reasons. The most obvious, perhaps, involves lack of vegetation to
foul treble hooks. A willowleaf spinnerbait will better suit timber, but
residual weeds hold baitfish and bass where a spinnerbait isn’t necessary. That
logic is a clue. When a simpler approach suits, it may prove more effective
than any added nonsense. A Mepp’s Aglia Long upwards of size 3 or a C.P. Swing 6
pulsing over any sparse tendrils of vegetation remaining near bottom is deadly,
since the sleek appearance of an in-line spinner plays to the low key of early
season music. Never use Colorado or Indiana blades, if you heed this principle
of simple logic, because they emit too much vibration in cold water, so the
standard Mepp’s or Blue Fox should be refused.
Perhaps it’s just my personal
philosophy. I don’t doubt plenty of bass get caught by use of Colorado and
Indiana blades this time of year. And yet, over the course of time, probability
proves necessary quantification in relation to applied facts more or less
appropriate to actual situations. And even yet, I question my slow approaches
further, because I’ve read about largemouths caught on crankbaits burned at top
speed with water temperatures in the upper 40’s. One caveat—lots of sunlight is
present when this happens, according to the claim. That shook up my
presumptions.
Nevertheless, attraction is not always
about how loud and flashy a lure. A bass can feel all sorts of vibrations in
the water. If there’s chop on top, bass below are quite aware of what they’re
going through. As I understand the early season, environmental changes sensed by
bass lateral lines need quiet and subtlety—in most cases—to accord with their
slow responses conditioned by low metabolic energy. Slow and subtle presentation
attracts bass to check out the source and possibly to strike, when a louder or
bigger lure gets ignored. Long spinner
blades hum along instead of sending more impact to those lateral line senses,
attracting just enough attention with water temperatures in the low to mid 40’s
or higher.
During a warming trend, at least some
bass venture towards the shallows, and a slow to moderately retrieved spinner
covers water, finds them and provokes strikes. Don’t pound the banks and docks,
shoreline brush or stickups; plumb the middle zones between the depths and
shallows. Some lakes and reservoirs have submerged ditches or depressions
leading off main creek channels with structural breaks where bass hold feeling not
quite ready to advance shallower. Rip rap and stone faces get warmed by morning
and early afternoon sun, allowing bass short moves to relative shallows from
depths close beneath, spinners effective at intercepting them.
But how is bass fishing complete
without surface catches? Shallow water action seems to comprise most of what
bass fishing is about, and as a rule, when water temperatures reach and surpass
50, bass invade the shallow flats, docks and other shallow spots. Fifty degrees,
however, is no absolute rule. Bass get caught on the surface in water as cold
as 47. There’s a specific way to do this, and I bet no bass has ever hit a hula popper chugged along in
water this cold.
Steady sunlight throughout a mild or
warm day allows water to warm just as evening approaches, to 47 or so. A northeast
pond corner or lake cove with proximity to deeper staging points means sunlight
will have warmed the area the most, since sun sets in the southeast. Even if
the temperature difference is slight, it’s in your favor. Surface, however,
must be dead calm and there’s a reason for this, as you may infer.
The Rebel Minnow is a floating
jerkbait unlike most others, although perhaps some other companies make lures that
fish about the same. The plastic 2 ½-inch Minnow is small enough not to serve
much of a mouthful, and large enough to attract bass nearby. It sits on the
surface at an angle, rear submerged, only head and shoulders breaking surface
tension. By twitching only enough to raise that rear, and then allowing that
rear to sink back, enough rippling in the water gets sent in all directions. Something
like food is there for the taking. No jerking or popping will work. It’s not a
matter of trying to send more vibration bass’s way, but as few vibrations as
possible short of none. Remember, bass can feel all sorts of motion, including
other fish on patrol. With water just warming enough that a few bass poke into
the shallows, something seemingly alive—just barely—on the surface can tease
interest out of competitive impulses.
Wait as long as a full minute
between twitches, which isn’t easy, but the only way I know to work in water
this cold. It’s an exercise in exploring patience you’ve completely forgotten
since idle hours and minutes of adolescence, and if a bass comes up and sips as
subtly as a trout taking a dry fly, an event has unfolded you may never forget.
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