It happened on two different days in two different months in two different types of weather. Although the outcome of both were similar, the result of the outings were two different species of bass; so there was that. I fished in two different bodies of water, using two different methods, creating two different memories. So when you wind those facts up into a tight little ball, I guess you could say that I went, “Two For Two.”
The first outing was a brutally hot July summer day. It was the kind of day that once the morning air burned off, seemed perfect to slide into a pair of old running shoes, slather down in sunscreen, throw some gear into a small backpack, and fish a local creek of moving water.
The cool water is moderately clear in that creek and the bed ranges from sand to gravel; with a few intermittent mucky spots where the water slows in swirling pools on its way to the larger Rock River. It’s the kind of creek that keeps you guessing and honest in all of its various forms.
Within numerous bends that came in succession I caught a half dozen little small mouthed bass. It was where the creek split around a pile of brush lodged atop a heap of gravel that I had my first fish of significant size. It was also where I quietly crept over the gravel bar to the slower moving and deeper channel. I cast my large spinner up into a nice looking pocket. The pocket required some precision; one where I’d either come away with a snagged lure hooked in some hidden underwater structure, or lure a fish up from its perfect hiding spot. Fortunately it was later.
The small mouthed bass jumped several times while racing to and fro within the confines of the channel. I knelt down on the gravel bar where I had been standing and lifted out a chunky 14 ½” bass. It was a mindful connection to hold onto such a beautifully marked fish. I removed my backpack, lifted the fish in front of me, took several pictures, and released it back into the water.
On such a warm day, it was fun to wade and fish with minimal gear while pretending I was just a kid again. I didn’t fish quite like this as a young boy, but it was definitely the same spirit of adventure, connection, and freedom that I had felt long ago that was spurring me on around each bend.
The next fish that made an impression on that hot day hit within a deep run on an outside bend. I had cast up along a small point of rocky structure before having an immediate strike. Right away I could feel the smallie’s strength and it took a little time to bring it up to my hand; aerial acrobatics resembling a big man’s belly flop competition rather than an olympic diving event!
A wide back of muscle from a lifetime spent in moving water graced my finger tips. The smallie measured at a respectful 16” with camouflaged and mottled markings and I allowed myself a picture with the fish before easing it back into the creek.
My second outing was on a chilly October afternoon; 40 to 50 degrees cooler than that day in July. I launched into a nearby lake in my trusty kayak. The colors of the trees along the shoreline were picture perfect. The leaves weren’t brilliant, but they weren’t drab either. They were a blend of purple, orange, and yellow with the correct amount of blue sky and reflections to create an imprint on one’s memory.
Not far from the launch I worked a drop off. Within the first 10 casts I had a solid hit that pulled drag while the fish dove deep. I wrestled with my large hooped landing net that was weaved within the kayak’s bungee cords, and positioned myself to land the fish. It’s quite a spectacle to balance a paddle in your lap, keep from being blown by the light wind into the shoreline, reel in a fish, all while trying to prepare a net! Fortunately I lacked a crowd so any minor gaffe escaped a critical eye.
Once I brought the fish up to the starboard side of my kayak, I could see that it was a largemouth bass; with its distinct difference of light and dark markings on both sides of its lateral line. However, it kept diving back into the murky depths and pulling drag with it, so it took a little bit of time to scoop it up into my net. By then I was gently bumping against the rock lined shoreline.
Once I had the fish in my net, I gently removed the lure and held it up for a few pictures before sliding it into the water and watching it disappear below the shadow of my kayak. It was my longest largemouth bass to date, measuring at 21 inches. For that reason it was both rewarding and memorable.
After that experience I worked my way along the Northern shore just off the drop-off. I caught a few smaller bass and a 17 ½” within this section before making my way into a smaller bay. I fished that section of water hoping for a cruising bass or pike but was simply left to the Canadian geese and mallards who watched me with caution.
It was at that time that the sky began clouding over, the sun was tagging the horizon, and the temperature dropped even more. I was beginning to become chilled, so I drifted down through the main channel of the lake towards the boat launch. Doing so, I caught a nice 15” bass before losing another at the kayak and calling it a day; loading my gear back into my Jeep.
I had two different outings, on two different days, in two different environments, catching two different species of fish. Although both adventures centered around water, which easily tugs at my soul, the different excursions melded into one as I went two for two.
See you along The Way…
