We carried a story a week or so ago on Access-WDUN that north Georgia just experienced its third warmest winter on record.
I agree; pollen covers my truck in the employee parking lot, something that normally doesn’t happen until late April.
As I thought about other evidences that our winter has been a wimp, I remembered back to a week in mid-January, an occasion when I fished in shirt sleeves on Lake Lanier.
I had one of my best fishing trips ever, catching bass that were in extremely shallow water and the females were laden with eggs.
I came away with the distinct impression that the spawn was near, well ahead of schedule.
April is when bass normally spawn in north Georgia but all indications pointed at the reality that the bass were ready to get-it-on, regardless of what month it was.
So on that balmy January day, as I looked at the March calendar on my cell phone, I noted that the full moon occurred on March 12th.
As a rule, a full moon and water near 60-degrees is the annual spawn “trigger mechanism”. So without hesitation I texted members of my bass club predicting that the spawn would occur one full lunar cycle earlier than usual.
The guys agreed and we moved our spring fishing tournament up five weeks, from April 15th to March 11th
I felt awesome; I had predicted the early arrival of spring as if I was Punxsutawney Phil, and naturally the guys in my club took my sagely advice like a hungry largemouth gulping down a herring.
After all, I told myself proudly, I write a fishing blog and I should know such things better than the everyday mortal.
It was settled, club members voted and we got a permit to fish on the day before the March full moon; again, because that guy who writes a fishing blog and knows-it-all said the fish would be spawning early.
Over the next several weeks after I made my January proclamation, the water temperatures on Lanier and area lakes continued their slow, but steady ascent, nearing 60-degrees and enough warmth for the spawn to begin.
I saw everything falling into place, just like I forecast. (Pause here to pat myself on my back.)
Everybody was pumped-up as the March tournament neared. We even scheduled our tournament at Lake Chatuge in Towns County, one of our favorite fisheries.
Life as a genius was good….until the bottom fell out.
(I’m writing this blog on Saturday evening, March 11th, just hours after our tournament ended.)
By 10 AM the snow was falling like a scene on a Hallmark Christmas card. The temperatures were just above freezing and my fishing partner was sarcastically asking if my truck had snow tires for our drive back to Gainesville across Unicoi Gap.
It was so miserable even the fish hated it, and now the members of our little fishing club would hate me.
“Hum…,” I said to myself, “if I faked a severe kidney stone attack right now, surely the other club members would have pity on me and understand why I left the lake early.”
I hereby resign from the position of bass club prophet…and please don’t let the tar and feathers get too hot when y’all apply them to my backside.
