Two River Smallmouths

 

Going on 10 years since I last fished here. Matt and I caught little that day, but previous outings here had resulted in an 18 1/2-inch largemouth and smallmouths almost as big. Today we came with Matt's Uncle Rick and his cousin Kyle. A family reunion precious as those are, everyone involved not so sure when the next one will work out as each of us go our own ways. I first fished here in 1977 or 1978. By serendipity, Matt & I arrived here with a Cub Scout friend of his and parent after an event further north. That was 2007 or so. 

The place always offers the possibility of a big fish. One of the bass that took a live killiefish from me might have been one of them. (I kept leftover killies from fluke fishing yesterday.) 

Flat shallow water overlooked by Rick & Kyle as they made their way downstream yielded the only two smallmouths we caught. I saw the edge between visible bottom and some weeds, and I decided to wade as far out as I would find possible, which wasn't very far as appearances deceive. Then I let current drift a killie through that dark water near the edge where things become visible. A smallmouth took the bait on my first or second cast. 

And others did, too.

In general, we tried six spots, all of which, besides two of them, have yielded bass and one pickerel over the years. Today, that edge just beyond the flat offered us the only action.

There's a presence in that whole area encompassing the spots we tried that I encounter everywhere else I fish. As much as I'm out to sink a hook into a fish's jaw, I'm out to let the uniqueness of the place I fish pull me into its gullet. There's a tension, a tenacity about the gravity of a place as it tries to claim any condition that colors it--as its own. It does so with some degree of absolute success, and yet there's something sad about any place on this Earth, because anywhere you go not only belongs to the whole planet--the whole planet belongs to something larger.

Smallmouths