I had a pretty good vacation, did some camping, a little hiking, some swimming and some fishing. I love fishing. Not so much for the fish, but to have an excuse to stand next to the water and do nothing. For years, fishing consisted of a bobber and worm for me. I have noticed, over the years, that real fishermen don’t seem to use the old worm and bobber method. Being the geek that I am, I’ve done some research on the internet and purchased some different hooks and lures and bait. Armed with new tools and knowledge, I’ve been trying to haul in some large mouth bass. I haven’t succeeded, which is fine because I still get to stand around the water and do nothing. But I do know that if you come home empty handed, you’d better at least have a fish story. So without further ado, here is my fish story.

Me and the boy went to the upper lake at the campground to do some fishing. I helped him set up his reel and rod with a hook and a bobber, left him with a dozen worms, and headed off to find the right spot to cast for some bass. I tried in the shade with a Texas Rig, I tried under some bushes, near a downed tree, out in the middle of the lake. No luck. I switched to live worms. No luck. And my hook kept snagging. I switched to some nasty little bait,that kind of looked like a little squid. I put the hook in the center of it to make it snagless.

I flipped it out over a log and jigged it a bit around the log. The water was very clear. I saw a sunfish swim over to it. It just looked at it. That was fine with me. I wasn’t fishing for sunnies. I flipped further down the log. Under some nearby brush. Behind some seaweed (or whatever you call it when it is in a lake.)

The line suddenly went taut. Quickly, I pulled with the rod, and the bait flew out of the water. I quickly flipped the bait back towards the seaweed. It landed next to it and began to drift down. A shadow moved from behind the seaweed and engulfed my bait. This time, I did not panic. I let it hold the bait. I gave a small tug to get ti to pull back. It did. As it was pulling, I jerk my rod… and the bait popped out of it’s mouth and into the air. I put the bait right back in the water and could clearly see the Bass open it’s mouth and grab my bait. Patience, I told myself. I gave a little tug. It tugged back. I gave a slightly harder tug. It ran with the bait. I’ve got you now, I thought to myself. It ran till it ran out of line. I pulled the rod firmly and started reeling. The bait popped out of the water.

I reeled the bait in and looked at it. I squeezed it. I couldn’t get the hook to break to the outside of the bait and prick me. I had been so concerned with making the bait snagless, i hadn’t checked to see if I would be able to set the hook. I took the bait off and made a Texas Rig as fast as I could. I flipped the worm out in to the water, but it was too late. The bass had left town. I stood there for another 30 minutes trying to entice him to come back, but it was no use.

My son had long since abandoned me, so I packed up my gear and headed back to camp, empty handed. Except for this tale, of the one that got away (again and again.)