*Cracks knuckles*
Well, talking about big bass I've caught is practically a professional sport for me (just ask my wife ?) so OF COURSE!!!!
Today was fixin to be a day like any other. I work from home and own a small business and I like to wake up at 5 and hit it before the sun comes up so I can get to work at a reasonable time and still get some fishing in.
I've been doing this consistently since the weather got to be about 50° daily around here (maybe 3 weeks?). For the most part the mornings have been mild and the bites infrequent.
This morning, I awoke and made my pot of coffee and sat watching Bill Dance on YouTube or something ritualistic of that sort. I saw on Facebook a post where Josh Jones was lauding the swim jig as his magical bait this year.
I almost chuckled to myself as I super glued my 4.5" Scottsboro minnow to my 1/4 oz Siebert Bluegill Flash swim jig...perhaps this bait was the illusive trick to provoking violent reactions from the giant bass I knew had been carefully evading my crawdad/vertical presentations (black and blue/PB&J brush jigs pitched into cover and around high percentage spots) and my noisier horizontal presentations (chatterbait and cranks).
I figured these fish are probably mostly pelagic like tuna or salmon and probably roam the amorphous flat, fairly shallow, cover devoid pond, perpetually corralling mindless schools of shad/crappie all year long and what happens right now!?!? They gotta take a break from that grind and move up to do there thing....any day now right???
Maybe that innocuous/stealthy but BIG presentation that resembles their preferred forage WAS gonna do it?
I could feel my confidence building before I even turned my car ignition on the way to the pond.
This pond is small and located 7 minutes from my house. It's public access and has very little for fish to relate to, but a few small fish and bites have told me that they are moving into the NW corner pocket adjacent to the dam in preparation for this seasons coming spawn.
My instinct and limited time coupled with knowing I will be attempting fairly slow presentations has me making a bee line for this area today.
When I arrive, it's balmy. The wind is whipping. Visible chop all over the pond. The sky is that almost maroon color it gets on nights where it perpetually drizzles and light pollution reflects off the low clouds.
I'm tempted to pack it up and head home. It's noticably getting colder. Those 50-70 degree temps are obviously giving way to a cold front that seems to be just starting to hit as I arrive.
I tell myself those fronts can be big feed windows, especially right before the spawn in the spring and I force myself to walk in the cold drizzle down to the dam.
I make my first cast across the dam. The same place I pulled a 6 lber out 2 weeks ago on a bulky flipping jig and chunk. Nothing. I move my cast 3-4 feet out from shore and make another parallel toss and slowly Retrieve my swim jig. Trying to get the wedge tail on the Scottsboro minnow to undulate seductively. Again nothing.
This time, I place my cast maybe 20 ft out from the dam and let the jig sink the 4-5 feet to the bottom and slowly begin to retrieve it across a deeper expanse. I feel my jig get thumped hard about half way back to the shore. This bite tells me a lot.
I'm confident now that they're feeding. I'm confident now that I have selected the right bait. I'm confident that my presentation is working.
Armed with this confidence I fire a few more casts across the channel in front of the dam and get not a nibble or a whif of a fish.
At this point. The drizzle turns into rain.
I haven't been there but 30 minutes...
I consider heading to the boathouse and seeing if there is a bite over there but I tell myself that they are IN this NW corner. I KNOW it from bites and smaller fish caught the past couple days leading up to this front.
I traverse the outflow creek and make my way into the shady dark NW pocket just beyond where I was casting previously. Just out of the current and tucked away where I know soon they should be spawning.
I think to myself that rain means they will move up shallow to avoid the muddy blow out, especially relatively warm rain (50 something degree light rain).
With that in mind I decide to line my first cast up with a large oak tree dead center at the back of the pocket and then bring my jig back slow parallel to the 5 ft of horizontal dead vegetation stems along the right side of the dam/outflow.
I make my first cast and the rain is really picking up. I can't see my bait go in which gives me a confidence boost.
Means the bass can't either right?
I slowly begin a steady retrieve with my reel hand only imparting subtle changes in speed and mostly trying to just barely get the swim jig kicking.
Almost immidiately, in a foot of water, no more than 2 feet from the bank where I cast I feel her hit.
The bite is far from subtle and I know it's a bite immidiately.
I drop my rod tip (it's pitch black so this is all done by feel at this point).
I reel the slack up, careful to pay close attention to the exact moment I feel her begin to load up.
At precisely that moment, I lift my rod and reel vigorously and feel as though I have set the hook on a log.....or perhaps a bag full of wet towels glued to the bottom.
My rod tip all but doubled over while I kept my pole as close to vertical as I could.
I felt her pulling and it was like fighting a bull red. Pandemonium and splashing this way and that and my 20 lb fluorocarbon groaning as my drag gave up little bits of line as she surged.
I was careful to keep even pressure on her at all times and NOT STOP REELING.
I finally see her breech just on the edge of the vegetation line 6 ft from me. I can't believe my eyes.
She's thrashing. My heart is pounding.
I know under that vegetation it's nearly 4 ft deep so there's no walking in at this point.
I decide at this exact moment I have to trust my equipment and get her out or she's coming off. I've lost my fair share of big fish. I know the drill. It's go time.
I lift and reel and walk backwards and see her lurch forward on top of the slop to about 2 feet from the bank and I reach out and grab her giant lower lip.
I immidiately see her distended belly and feel her mass and then the fact that I couldn't get her airborn all dawn on me at once in an adrenaline soaked moment of relief and victory.
This is a VERY BIG fish I hold in my hands at the end of my line.
I stumble over to a bench in the now pouring rain absolutely shaking with adrenaline and excitement. She's being very patient and cooperative. Almost like she's done it before and knows I have her best interests in mind.
I quickly snap a couple pictures. Say a few words to the creator of the universe and the bass I'm holding in my hands and walk her down to the water.
I feel her bite down on my hand as I revive her in that cold muddy February pond water...as if to assure me that she's ready and that she's going to be okay and then with grace and power I've never seen before she lunges away. I can see the power of her tail in the wake she leaves behind and she swims back down.
To say it was a profound experience doesn't really do it justice!