Another Saturday roll out and once again conditions were cold and foggy. I fished for two hours with one fish before packing things up and rolling off to another spot. Normally I would be stubborn and grind things out just to prove a point. For some reason this pond felt “off” or maybe just colder than it should.
Load up and move out. Extra gear equals extra pain but in this case you have to dance with whom you brought. So I have no choice but to strap down the green machine and haul everything to spot number two. Fog is lifting with the sun finally showing up around 10AM. Water is less stained at the Plan B but by now the wind is really kicking up. Grabbing the oars and power through the heavy chop my lips let out a sarcastic grovel.
“Been rowing every time I head out for the last few weeks…what’s another day?”
Thankfully there are a few steep ledges and a tree line or two that I can use for shelter. Hopefully the fish are thinking the same thing. Second cast in and the bait is mugged by a healthy bass.
I’m running two presentations this time of year on two different setups. One rod is a 7’ medium\fast action working either spinnerbaits the modified cranks. The other rod is a 6’-6” medium\heavy action for the jig presentations. Both are generally tied with 6lb mono just to give the gear poindexters something to nitpick about. Both the jig and crank would pick up fish in each section that I moved to. The fish didn’t seem to be that picky as long as you brought something to them. A slow flutter motion close to or on the bottom was used most of the time.
By 2PM I had worked most of the shelter points as the sun cooked up the gusts even more. The last spot to hit was a small cove at the end of the steep ledge. There was enough time to run a few casts and let the wind push me back to the shoreline. First toss in and I snag the crankbait on something solid. The line doesn’t move and I think the lure is hung up on a log or rock below the water’s surface. Then everything goes nuts. The drag rings out as water boils in front of me. Fear, panic and sheer jubilation swell in my chest all at the same time. Loosen the drag, play the fish a little and I manage to grab the lip.
The venue change made all the difference and it is amazing how one location can vary so much to the other depending on the day. This is one case where the two-pond hop locked me into some better fish saving the day.
My name is Matt and I’m a fishaholic.