I crashed into bed at 11:30pm and awoke without my alarm clock at 2:02 am. I watched the minutes tick by for a quarter of an hour and then crawled into some shorts and headed out the door. Brett's dog woke him up for me as I was moving my kayak onto his rack next to his Prowler. We hit the road with a pit stop for cash and a sack of predawn Breakfast Jacks and arrived at the gate by 4:30am.
I met our benefactor, Mick, who was the greatest guy - it was a pleasure to fish with him off and on through the day and a real treat to watch what they did early on.
After
being led down to the lake at 5:30 the scene turned nearly comical as
people raced, literally raced, down to the dock house and practically
did flying leaps into their boats. Brett and I were caught up in it and
unloaded the kayaks in what had to be record time. Geared up and ready
to roll we pushed off the shore at about 6:20 am and began a nice long
paddle all the way back to Becky's Cove. Brett had promised top water
action and an abundance of fish. Reflecting on my past freshwater bass
experiences, including one day at Barrett, thought he may have been overstating
things a bit. Optimism reigned supreme however and a crankbait found it's
way into the water about halfway to the cove. Dragging it in about 15'
of water the rod tip began to bounce and jerk and then went slack. I kept
paddling with an eye on the rod and once again it was hit. I reached for
the rod, lifted it from the flushmount holder and set the hook into ....nothing.
Barbless hooks were making themselves known!
I
wound in the crank and caught up with Brett entering the cove. We snapped
a few pictures of the mist on the water and then saw Mick and his buddy
fly fishing near the shore...practically ON the shore. A splash and whoop
and then followed up with an unmistakable "AAwwwww" which, by
the down-tonal progression can mean only one thing - opportunity missed.
I began throwing that little Pop'R up against the shoreline in water that
only 1' deep and much to my surprise I was seeing boils and wakes by cruising
and feeding bass. A topwater lure is a funny little creature, to be sure,
and the use of it eluded me. I've watched my fair share of Roland, Hank
and Mr. Dance to know some theory behind bass fishing with plastics, cranks
and spinners but topwater doesn't seem to get much press - maybe because
of the apparent heartbreak factors, it seems to me that topwater would
make good television. Brett gave me a 7 second lesson on poppers - "Mick's
fly popper doesn't make hardly any splash but mine does and I catch a
few fish...let it sit until the rings disappear after you cast.".
Ok. So I kept at it and was recommended another bank that was just behind
me. I paddled the short distance and threw out the Pop'R again and this
time,
as
the rings were drifting away from my still bait an explosion occured just
behind and to the left of the sleepy balsa wood. It's been said that every
action has an equal and opposite reaction and, by deductive reasoning
I would state that the force with which I attempted to set the hook was
tantamount to an F5 tornado. I make this assumption based on the speed
and fury with which this tiny, double-hooked bullet was approaching my
forehead. "Don't set the hook until you feel the weight...I'm sure
you already know that" was the second half of my topwater lesson.
I
calmed down and started thinking about what was going on and was soon
rewarded with my first Barrett fish of the season.
Phew. I kept throwing the Pop'R and it got blown up a few more times but nothing stuck, finally landed two more on the topwater. The bass seemed to be hiding in shadows and as the morning wore on the shadows became fewer and farther between. We switched to plastics and I texas rigged a chocolate blue-vein worm and began tossing it around somewhat aimlessly. I was drifting down a shoreline and not getting any action, nor did I have the least bit of confidence in this style of fishing.
Brett
picked up a fish on an Aaron's Magic worm with a curly tail and he tossed
a few of them my way.
He had splitshot his line before leaving home and neither of his had any more shot. So I retied a carolina rig and pegged the weight, close enough, I thought. It worked! Back in the shallow water, between 1 and 3 feet, there was a school/pocket/herd/whatever of largemouth just waiting for something like this. It was fish after fish for a while and in less than an hour I had 6 more bass and no more of Aaron's great magic. I considered my options and pulled out the only other thing I had with a curly tail - Assalt ringed 4" worms in black/red flake. It was about 5X larger than the little worm I was using previously but I pushed it on the worm hook anyway. First cast landed my largest fish for the day - he went just a hair under 3#.
I saw a fish boil under a grass mat that was sticking out just a bit from the rocky shoreline behind me. I hadn't caught a fish on a Senko and the slow style of fishing required for them is challenging for my ADD riddled brain. But I threw the risk of boredom into the wind and plunked a senko down on top of the grass mat and wiggled it back to the edge, let it touch the water and then twitched it into the drink. It was instantly slurped up and the line went tight - I set the hook, prepared to dodge, but found a fish stuck on the other end. That was a thrill! The rest of the day was the Assalt rig - 8 more bass on this.
The
rest of the morning we paddled back, stopped in a talked to Clayton a
bit, saw Mick on the dock and we waited around for the train to leave
(and hour or so later than we'd hoped).
Incidentally I made it to the wedding on time...kinda. We saw the exciting parts anyway and had a great time at the reception.
Thanks again to Mick and Brett for the fun and companionship - next time we don't leave early!
-Drew