Swamp Girl

Whew!

You're a Joe Dirter, as you just keep on keeping on.

I'm with you. I have to use lures that work in weeds, like the underspin you see here:

I'd cast into measly water. By measly, I mean water so sad and small that it's ignored by most other anglers. Cast and then hang on because you'll catch something!

Our ice came early this year, so I fear it'll leave late because it'll be thicker than normal. Being inland, Andy's Michigan gets colder than we do, but it also gets warmer than we do. We don't have warm spring days because of the North Atlantic, so whereas our January should be warmer than Michigan's, our April will be colder. In the end, I'm guessing it'll all even out and I'll got with the same ice-out day: April 17th. 2025 bass:

I won't fish the fairly famous Maine lakes near me because in a bass boat/canoe collision, I lose every single time. So, I launch where they can't launch, in ponds and bogs without ramps because I launch early and in the fog, which makes me oh-so vulnerable.

Well, um, yeah, but naaahhhh. Old people were once young people. Young people have yet to be old people. So, old people know that being old is different. We literally feel it in our bones.

Me too. I had to do it this past summer for a death in the family, but I hated it. Like you, I'd drive up to 17 hours straight for work. No more. My pond is five minutes from my driveway and my pal's pond is 12 minutes away. Those are perfect distances. I also avoid meds. They all have side effects.

How old are you, Scott? I'm 69 and driving long distances is something I don't want to do too.

Good photo, @Fried Lemons!

Agree. In 2025, I found myself ending my fishing trips sooner because work awaited me at home. The two prior years, I stayed out until the last possible minute...and sometimes more.

I haven't paddled it yet, but I watched a guy online stand on the edge of it without tipping, so I'm pretty sure it'll be hard to tip. Good goal. I catch a lot of bass when I launch at four in the morning.

I caught my PB in April. I just wish that it was such a scary month for me. However, with my new Old Town Predator 13 on my pal's pond, I won't be as scared because it's a big, stable kayak. The problem with April is that my two big bass bogs require me to launch my tippy Kevlar canoe. I'll probably do it, but hug the shorelines.

Good goal!

This reminds me of musky fishing, when you can fish all week and not catch a single fish. It's not for me, but I'm glad I tried it. I'm happiest in a busy boat. Oh, I know. It's a thrill to catch a 43" pike on six-pound line while fishing for bass in northwestern Ontario.

There were thousands of anglers trying to catch 17, 18, and 19-pound bass and to hook a 20-pound-plus bass. I'm guessing you could count the anglers who did with one hand.

Time to cry:

I believe you, King. You have the fire and red hot coals burn through the long night.

Early snow on the roof is another thing we have in common, Al. I had my first white hairs in high school and I've long been snowy white. I urge all of you still young and strong enough to reach yonder while you still can. For me, yonder was northwestern Ontario. Your yonder is likely different. I can no longer reach my yonder, but in aggregate, I spent about a year of my life in the wilderness, with the longest solo stretch being five weeks. It's stuck with me.

Heck yeah, it does! I agree...and as someone who doesn't use sonar, it was an interesting read. So, thanks, Mr. Fly!

What a great story and memory, @BigAngus752. Thanks for telling it. I don't know if I was scammed or not, but I met a small, pale professor. I think his name was Peabody. Anyway, he sold me a Wayback Machine that he said will take us back in time. Fingers crossed it works!

Come fish the upper Mississippi with me! We'll catch some smallies and wave at the paddlewheelers as they pass.

Mike, is anyone playing Barry White or Tom Jones on a jukebox near the ponds you fish?

And this is why he's caught 17, 18, and 19-pounders.* *I get giddy when I list Tom's achievements. They're unfathomable to me. The rest of us are thrilled with an 11-pounder, whether caught or imagined.