HAWG BASS.
Bass opener was this week! Well, the season I fish anyways…
A friend was looking for a partner to fish the Hawg Bass Tournament on Muskrat Lake this weekend. I’m not really much of a bass guy but can catch ’em pretty good in some places. Muskrat isn’t one of those places. I have fished bass three times this year.
I agreed. 50 boat single day tournament, top so many teams cash as well as first and second biggest fish. That kinda meant little actually, as I have never fished a tournament before and was actually more curious about experiencing one.
So today I woke to thunderstorms and heavy rain at 4:15am and made my way up to Arnprior to meet with Tony to become Team A$$ Tracker.
More soupy down-porridge on route ober der to Cobden, we got registered, launched, and all that granola.
It rained sideways much of the day. It blew from the east then switched to the northwest. Tony got drenched and I got wet while we chucked almost everything in the tacklebox for ghost bass.
Around 10:00am I was froggin’ in some slop and when it came over the weed-edge a pop or two, a big bass moved on it but missed. Pointing to the boil I quickly urged Tony to chuck a Senko in there, and grabbin’ my rod with the wrong-handed reel he did so. Immediately he announced, “FISH ON!” It gave him a good giver after that.
Swooping it up in the net we had number one of five in the well. Tony figured it around 4lbs, 12ozs. I thought bigger and told him so, but I didn’t know…? Had it been last fish of the day I’d have thought it a heckuva kicker anyways.
The next six hours we certainly had to work for fish and endure more wind and rain. Come mid afternoon, a move to get off the very, very slow largies and onto smallies paid off. Tony with the skills to pay the bills popped four more fish from here on out. Two solid smallies, one OK largie and another dinkeroo 15″ largie. There were maybe only two other fish caught that wouldn’t have been a foot long, so there was no culling. Tony’s lake, Tony’s day, he surely made our bag full of fish to give us a chance.
Hoping for the best, in the end it was enough to take to the scale. Five fish we could count. Surely wished we could have culled the one largie out, or both… but I have to commend Tony for just getting the job done on what was a tough bite day. He’s a bass guy for sure!!! Raised up on the lake and fishing it for years, he sure knows it well too.
While Tony waited with the boat, at the scale when asked if I have a big fish I replied, “yep!” Lifting it out of the bag and into the basket the feller says, “you sure do!” Then he weighs it in at 5.74lbs. OK… so not 4 plus at all. I gotta admit, I was pretty pumped for our chance at big fish with that weight.
The rest of the bag came in at 17.10lbs. Good enough for first at the time, but then two others came in to take second at 17.16 and finally first at something just over 18lbs.
So that was it! First ever bass tournament turns out purdy darn good end of the day! Cashed $500 for big fish of the tournament and got another $500 for third place. Tony made it a really enjoyable experience overall, and I don’t think it’ll be too long before he gets that first place finish he’s hoping for.
In the meantime… I’ll practice at hooking a few more this autumn. And maybe one day down the road enjoy a tourney again too.
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KARMA SMALLIES.
Can’t escape karma doods! Can’t run, hide or turn and fight it. It’s a total go-with-the-flow cosmic crapshoot that keeps your world spinning in a forward pos or back neg. And some days she blows current!
Trucking through town at 8:30am, as usual all kiddies are rushing off to school, drive-thru is jammed, traffic is moving geriatric and there’s no way to get parking within a half mile of the downtown Timmies. So, I pull up to a spot that gets out of everyone’s way and rush in for a coffee, I have to get the boat and truck up on half of the sidewalk. Problem solved… have done this countless times before, and the world can continue to turn.
But yup… A Doink is waiting…
Only zippin’ my slip into the Timmies when the next lady through the door says, “I tried flaggin’ ya down but youuuuu’re fast. You’re getting a parking ticket.”
“Expletive!!!” I says… And rush out the door.
“Dooooood!!! C’mon! W.T.F!!? Five minutes in the Tim’s!!! I pull out of everyone’s way here with the boat!!!”
“You’re on the sidewalk.” Doink Traffic Cop Extra-ordinaire says. “You’re not out of the way of the kids using the sidewalk to go to school.”
“THEY CAN GO AROUND! They’ve got half the sidewalk! I’m like five minutes getting a coffee.”
“You’re parked on the sidewalk” and Doink hands me a ticket…
“YOU’RE ___ expletive ___ RIDICULOUS!!!” yells I into Doink’s face.
So I leave my rig there anyways and go get my coffee, now $25 in debt. Hoping the next time I see him is at triage in the ER. My money will be his time, jarkarze!!!
Cruising away I take a sip of my Joe. BLAHHH!!! Why Gawd??? Double Double with milk, how hard is that??? How does two cream no sugar register in someone’s head when you ask for a double double with milk. Arrrrrrrghhhh!!!
Basically the drive to the launch I’m just fuming. Steam coming out my ears, Devil horns growing out of me noggin’. Just about there I pull off for my turn and find the access gated………. ( do I need to put an expletive here? )
Plan B there is. No probs. I got a good back-up.
Arriving at the lake the launch was a wee bit shallow so I pushed The Bomber off the bunks and got adrift a little. Rocking the boat in some weird way it just shimmied towards shore and when I thought it was about close enough I leapt off the bow.
I suck.
Getting old or something… because I suck.
And I missed the shore and got a big right foot soaker.
Parking ticket. Gated launch. Crap coffee. Soaker. Only been awake about two hours and hating life this day.
So while parking the truck I get to trying to calm myself down. Thinking that what will come next is, I’ll be cruising down the lake and hit something that rips my skeg off, or… karma will have mercy, it will switch, and I will slay fish.
It did switch. Took a couple hours… but it did. It was a slay day. The smallie fishing was “Off da Hook!”
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The End.
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Bunk
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