Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Big Bass


Brian contacted me on Messenger after the trip, telling me I should have some interesting dialogue in this post after his shenanigans, but I think the stress level at work this week was too high for my memory to work. I do remember him doubting "Magic Bluegill" (right?) would work, then catching three or four bass on the trailer, showing that it does. He caught seven or eight bass, a pickerel, and a crappie. I caught four bass, a pickerel, a yellow perch. As for magic bluegills, I would stick to mushrooms if I weren't fishing.

(One of my posts stretches logic to show how a fisherman never stops fishing, but that was back when I had more time on the water.)

I caught two bass slightly longer than 20 inches. Brian got one my scale registered as four-and-a-half pounds, but that fish was longer than 20 inches and fat. I might test my scale on a bag of sugar again. Maybe it's inaccurate now. I would leave the lake after the fishing was done feeling a little awed by the number of 20-plus-inch bass that must occupy it.

Before we began, we met a heavy breeze when we got out of our vehicles; in low, gray light we saw cloud cover, and it seemed as if a storm approached. I said, "Check your mobile." I don't own one of those, so Brian scrolled through his and said, "There's a heat advisory, but no chance of rain." So we carried the sqaureback and all the stuff to the water and paddled out. 

I caught the first bass, a hard-fighting 20-inches that leapt twice. No use trying topwater in the wind, I snapped on a Chatterbait. Brian's line broke on the cast, when a moment later he discovered he had left his tackle bag in his truck. We paddled back. Wasn't too far. While I waited on him tying up, I caught a bass about 15 inches long right there by the canoe at the launch point.

Wind stayed at us the whole four hours or so. I tried worming some, but all of our fish got caught on Chatterbaits. Weed harvesting has removed most of the worm opportunity, at least as I understand worming. There was an isolated clump with silver shiners or the like breaking surface by it. Seemed to me the forage fish are bunching up on whatever cover they can find, but no bass seemed to be there.

All the fish were good-sized. Brian caught a "little" bass that might have been 14 inches. We've never caught any 10- or 12-inchers, but they must be there. I like to sink into the depth of the experience and just let it leech out the absurdity of jobbing during the week, never thinking once of where I am most of the time. Fishing's a matter of paying attention, so it's a little disconcerting I've come home to feel my memory's not so good this time, but we get only so many days each year on the lake, and for me, they make up for the striving I do to fill rich men's pockets. I get my cut. I respect the rich man's making my job possible. 

Gee whiz, otherwise I might own my own cabin on a pristine shore.  


Four-and-a-half on the scale anyhow.

Caught on Chatterbait.



 Had a bigger mouth than it looks. (Trust experience before you trust an image. And a measuring tape.)