We’re not bass master classics here but we put a little hurting on the largemouth this weekend despite the weather!
We went up to a little lake on the other side of the river which is famous for its smallies (and is also well populated with musky) but we were in for some largemouth action. Geared with 4wt-8wt and multiple colors and sizes in poppers, we left the house for the two hour ride. As soon as we passed the river I switched my mind from bass to musky in heartbeat. Thinking, “Damn, That would be sick to pull a toothy from that big river!” But we passed by the liberty statute (which many of you reading don’t know what I’m talking about) and headed over the bridge in to farm town. We pulled in to the camp site and I was stringing my rods, dying to get in the water!
My buddy and I walked down to the tiny dock and were greeted with our boat for the weekend; a 10 foot V-bottom, powered by one’s arms. We rowed out, set up a drift and started casting EP baitfish that I tied to look like a sunnie. I started to get whacks and swirls as I stripped the fly to the boat but I was confused on why I wasn’t always sticking them. I kept checking my fly and it looked fine. After a while I just figured that it was a lot of small bass. The bass that we were sticking were no more than 15″ but they fought like they were smallmouth. They were digging deep and pin wheeling at the side of the gunnels. Jumping two, sometimes three feet in the air.
As the sun went down and the moon came out we tied on poppers. My personal favorite is the Gurgler. We casted them at the bank for about an hour or so and had decent luck. When we had had enough we docked the S.S. Workout (is what we named it after because I never rowed before, we’re used to having a motor or at least a trolling motor). We chilled at the fire for the rest of the night and awoke to a downpour Saturday morning. I threw on my waders and Stormr and set out for what would be a very frustrating outing. Every time I rowed 10 feet up I was back 20 feet before I could even double haul a fly. Damn wind! I couldn’t even use it in my favor because it would blow south, north, east, and west, so it was anyone’s guess which way we’d be drifting. And of course I didn’t have man anchor. Then, on top of it, every fish I had hit my gurgler would unbutton halfway through the fight which made me more pissed! I finally started to land them, which was very rewarding given the weather we were putting up with.
After I got a few to make me feel accomplished, I set in to the camp for the day. It stopped raining round dinner time which made the rest of the night enjoyable. The 10 of us grilled our dinner and relaxed at the fire for a while, which was the end of day 2. The last day there wasn’t much fishing but we had a blast swimming and playing king of the hill on the floating platform in the middle of the lake. All in all, it was a great summer camping trip.