This past Sunday I got a chance to go out to a local lake and try out my new bass flies that I’ve been working on.
They looked great in the water and swam exactly the way I wanted them to, but due to an upturn in the weeks temperatures, the phase of the moon, the direction of the wind, the fact that I wasn’t holding my mouth right and because I forgot to sacrifice a shiner for the glory of the Great Largemouth in the sky, the fish just really weren’t cooperating that day. But I fished hard anyway because the only other thing I could do was go back home, and that was totally out of the question.
So, around the time of the day when the sunglasses have to come off, something happened. And it wasn’t just a little something either. A bass, a big bass, I mean BIG fit your whole fist in it’s mouth war cry as you lift it’s massive bulk over head to show the world your mastery over all that is fish, kind of big bass, in the most casual manner I’ve ever seen, swam up from the dark depths just a little more than a leaders length away from my kayak and grabbed the black and purple fly in the pic above.
“Oh yeah. You’re mine now bitch,” is what I thought as I saw this leviathan take my fly. I think what came out of my mouth during this event was more of a series of girly squeaks mixed with some oh’s, um’s and ah’s. The next thing I said, after a long fifteen seconds of fighting this scaly brute, was a loud and reverberating “FUCK!”, followed by a few more fucks and long AHHHHHHH!!!!!!, all because I somehow forgot that actually setting the hook is a very important part in the whole fish catching process.
But the flies work, so that’s good… I guess.