LEAPING LARGEMOUTH

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Bass are definitely a blast to catch and as beautiful as the artwork portrays.   It brought back this vivid memory of the froggy lure.



Summer Bass


   I didn't have a boat but usually didn't need one.  Fishing northern Missouri farm ponds, whenever and wherever my buddies and I fished usually produced some fine Largemouth.  I was in 'dog-heaven' fishing anytime, anywhere.
    It was a very sultry, hot day in August 1996 that I decided to go fish a pond down the highway.  Only around the curve from my house a ways.  Once inside the gate off the gravel road, if it hadn't rained, my truck could easily maneuver down the slope, over the berm and be out of site from the road. Total privacy.  No trash left behind, no kids running around, no disturbance.  It was actually too damn hot of a day for most sane folks to stand on a bank sweltering in 100 degree sun.  But I was headstrong and tough, sought some adventure, tired of the indoors A/C.        
 
      I always caught bass and crappie from the bank.   The water was never so mossy to be a frikking tangled mess on the lure so I'm assuming the owner had carp in it, but I never caught any.  Once in a while my buddy, Don had caught skillet size catfish, especially on the other side of the dam.  I had learned bass fishing on those north Missouri farm ponds; the guys were experts and taught me well.  
   At mid-afternoon, the trees along the bank were only providing enough shade for the fish although they were too far from where I could cast.  I had a new Quantum spinner reel that was sturdy and smooth and my favorite Berkeley Medium action rod.  I tied on a new chartreuse floating frog on 8 lb test.  Back then I could cast on a dime because we always bass fished.
   I'd been casting as close to the bank under the trees as I dared.  Although I knew bass hid in the shady undergrowth of the trees at the water's edge, I decided casting in that mess was too much risk to getting hung up in the low hanging branches.  Would be just my luck for my lure to get stuck with no way to retrieve my new froggy lure.
   
    A light breeze teased the humid summer air.  It sent soft ripples across the blue-green water, causing the moss to delicately sway across the deepest pool.  Under the steeper bank to my right the surface bubbled every minute or so with frogs hovering at the surface snatching up bugs.  I'd been taught that's where the 'hawg' bass lie.  And I was anxious to snag one.  Big, old Thorny Hawthorn trees lined the shore there, but it was too full of gnarly briars that extended over the water for me to seek shade there.  
  I wished I had sunshades in that oppressive afternoon heat.  My cap shielded the water's glare some but sweat ran down my cheeks like tears, it was just too hot to wear the ballcap.  I laid it over my water bottle.  I also set aside my common sense. 
    About ten yards from my right was a growing water lily patch.
It was accumulating frogs under the lily pads.  The blooms stood erect in the light shade.  
My fingers wrapped firmly around the reel, one on the bale, my arm twitched in anticipation in a precise cast.  No bite.  I paused the next cast to scan the water surface.
    I really was anxious to try out that new Quantum's casting distance, so far I loved how smooth it was.  The deepest blue water was directly in front of me glittering under the intense sun.  Sweat dripping off my brow, the sun's glare interfered with my vision to peer into the water.   Fishing blind.   
  This year I had caught so many bass right under moss and brush!  But common sense told me I couldn't cast into the opposite bank far across this big pond.  I was getting too hot and maybe my brain was fried.   I reassessed the moss floating next to the lilies and the deep, cooler water was about 20 yards out at 12 o'clock.
   Okay I let anxiousness take over...  I released a cast close up to the moss, twitched the froggy.  Ting.  Aha!  Something nibbled!  I swore, damnit I twitched too fast.  Whatever fish was there, I had to try again.
 
    I cast near that same spot and let the frog sit still... count to 10.  I reeled it in and wiped the sweat pouring off my nose.  Come on Mr. Bass... I squinted my blinded eyes as I cast again - too hard, too far, I snatched the line to keep the froggy from the bank brush so it dropped within a few feet of the lilies and moss.  Pshew that was close!  My fingers trembled.  It landed atop the water, I flipped the bale, and the frog bounced with the line tension like a real frog hopping off a lily pad.  It looked real!  I loved that.  The lure plopped on top of the sparkling ripples; I lightly twitched the pole so little froggy wriggled on top of the surface.  In a simultaneous explosion, a Largemouth bass blasted out across the water!  Like it was shot out of a cannon -- the largemouth overshot my lure, its tail smacked the lure as it hit in a huge splash!  That hawg shot out of the topwater again with its mouth gaped open and crashed onto the water mouth down 'kerPLUNK'!   Ate the froggie, instantly diving down.
    In total shock, I spun the reel and yanked the pole to set the hook.  The feel of its tug staggered me. It was ON!  My arms strained as I muscled him out of the deep waterhole and moss -- it felt like a whale against my line.  I fought the bent pole up.  But its defenses were in overdrive.  That big basser did the ol' "screw-this-crap!" typical leap out of the water to spit the frog lure! That makes bass fishing so exhilarating!  Hands shaking, I spun the reel to cut the slack - he jumped airborne twice as I yanked again to keep the hookset, myself nearly slipping from the muddy grass.  For a long minute I grappled with him, in shock at the sight of that mighty ten foot leap out of its quiet, deep pool.
    Wrestling the pole, I desperately fought the taut line -- burst one last acrobatic jump out of the water, sprayed my face with a tail flip, he was so close.  With that split-second head jerk that bass do, catapulted back into the warm, blue-green water.  Escaped the lure, gone!
  Amazed at what had just happened, I fell back on the slippery, muddy grass and laughed out loud, my grip relaxed, still holding the Berkeley rod lying in the water now. And without a bass on it, a few yards out in the water bobbed my new froggy lure begging another bass to jump on it.  Nonsense! Only a couple of bullfrogs jumped away into the mossy edge not knowing I was bassin', not froggin'.
   I sat up and took a big gulp of my water bottle next to the ol' duct-taped tackle box. I was awestruck.  I reveled in the sheer power and speed of that bass, the sight of its ten foot leap and tail smashing onto the lure etched into my memory like it was Godzilla to a child.  Forever.    
   Dumbfounded and shocked!  I was so not ready for that action and a fight that only the good Lord Himself witnessed.  And the birds in the trees and other bass laughing at me from their little hidey-holes in the comfort of the soft moss deep underwater.  It maybe wasn't a lunker bass, but darned if it wasn't one of the best fightin' largemouths I've ever had on my line in my life.  Catching them just don’t happen all the time.     
   Well, I was certain all that frenzy had scared away every other fish within casting range of that big pond, and my energy was spent being so blazing hot under that July sun.  I would have dove in for a good cooling off but damn it, I didn't have a towel nor a change of clothes.  So much moss in the water was a major deterrent too.  And not owning the property I feared even just a little dip might be pushing the cordiality bar a bit much. This is the moment women envy that a guy can just take off his shirt for comfort sake.  Often I wear a swimsuit top under a Tshirt to slip off while fishing on a hot afternoon, however no comfort was to be had on that 100 degree day.
  I firmly stuck the lure into the pole guide and rinsed the mud and sweat off my arms with mossy water and trudged up the slope to the truck, my tennis shoes soaked with mud. I didn't care, they'd wash and that's fishin'..  I had drank all my water and was parched now under the blistering heat.  It was time for an ice cold beer at home.  I was still chuckling to myself, well aware nobody would believe this one. Time to call it a day, pack up for the drive home to the A/C, a shower and dinner and that cold beer.
I figured I'd go back another day and maybe get lucky and catch it again or some other guy would, but I'll always remember that fish leap! Oh Lord would I.
Largemouth Bass