Even though pollen drifted across the surface of the quiet pocket in Young Deer Creek we weren’t about to be fooled. No, sir, not us!
Too many instances of “jumping to conclusions” had taught my partner and me to slow down and wait. Why, between Ricky and me, we have over 80-years of experience bass fishing; in the words of Peter Townshend and his 60’s rock band, “We won’t get fooled again!”
Lesser men would have spent the day looking for bedding bass.
Those information-challenged anglers would have thought: Easter is two weeks away, the water temperature is 62-degrees and the pollen…all that pollen…is floating on the water – so the bass are spawning.
Wrong!
Fishermen less skilled than us would have wasted hours scouring the shoreline in shallow water, looking for bedding bass.
Not us, we were too experienced. So we spent the first five hours of the tournament targeting pre-spawn fish; you know, those egg-laden big females that hang out on secondary points, waiting for conditions to get right before they move shallow.
Fish that big would win any tournament; our prize money was almost guaranteed, we repeatedly told ourselves.
These grizzled old veterans (us) weren’t going to make that “rookie” mistake of looking for bass on the bed.
It was March 19th and way too early for any serious spawning activity, we told ourselves confidently.
However noon soon arrived and these grizzled old veterans (us) didn’t have a fish in the livewell. These grizzled old veterans (us) had not even had a bite. Maybe we should take a look shallow in case an uneducated fish, one not as smart as these grizzled old veterans (us), didn’t get the email and pre-maturely went shallow , wanting to do their spawning thing.
As these grizzled old veterans (us) sheepishly moved shallow we saw oval-shaped light-colored spots on the lake bottom, about every ten yards…beds; yes, beds. “Oops,” said the grizzled old dummies, “they done spawned!”
At least the first wave of fish had; more would soon follow, but in the meantime these grizzled old veterans (us) had wasted most of the day outsmarting ourselves.
The last two hours of the tournament became an advertisement for “5-Hour Energy” drinks mainlined. Lakefront homeowners looking down from their kitchen windows probably were wondering why “those grizzled old veterans (us)” were fishing like their pants were on fire.
“Do fishermen always fish so panicked?” some might have said.
Yes…especially when they are over-confident dummies.
In about 90-minutes we were able to catch two big-uns full of eggs, one big-un minus her eggs, and two spawned-out males guarding the eggs on the nest.
We managed to take almost 14 pounds of bass to the scale, plus a ton of “we got fooled again” ego-shattering humble pie to our homes.
These two old grizzled veterans (us) had done it again.
