The time had come for Tammy and I to tango! It has been too long since our first dance, so I thought what better way to bring us together then with the erotic and sometimes down right dirty moves of the tango.
First bass of the day on texas rigged creature bait.
The Castaic Lagoon was the backdrop for our routine. Everything was
going smoothly until the wind butt in and started whirling us all over
the place, making it difficult for me to make my move and fish as
thoroughly as possible. It managed to finally push us to the very back
corner of the Lagoon. Nobody puts Tammi in a corner, not even Mother
Nature! We responded by getting a little dirty and catching another
really nice bass, see below:
Nobody puts Tammi in a corner. My Patrick Swayze face (RIP).
Like the wonderful and often forgotten about, tasty treat of cinnamon
and sugar on buttered toast, Tammi did not disappoint. I promised to
take her out again soon but next time, we are going
square dancing. The tango gave me the spins like a high school kid
drinking moonshine down by the train tracks.
Skyman out!
A Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias), best angler on the water.
The "Jerk" and his Jerk-bait. Actually, a really nice guy.
When someone says, "I got your back", it generally means they are there to support you, but this last weekend while fishing at Cachuma Lake that phrase took a more literal meaning when my boater had my back at the end of his fishing lure. While winding up for a long cast he stuck me directly in the back with a jerk-bait. Two treble hooks pierced through my cotton sweatshirt and into my flesh, requiring "The Jerk", to grab his pliers and rip it out. 99% of the time fishing is not a contact sport but the 1% of the time when it is, you can wind up in the hospital with a hook in your eye or a prop wound to the calf. Luckily for me it was my back and not my eye ball, enabling me to shake it off like a wet dog and keep on fishing for what turned out to be a really great weekend.
Cachuma Lake in all its glory!
The "Jerk" incident took place on day one of a two day tournament and proved to be the largest thing any of us hooked into. Fish were in the post spawn stage and feeding heavily on crayfish, based on all the skeletal remains in our boats live well. We caught fish on a variety of baits, topwater, spinner-baits, creature baits, drop shots, senkos as well as the aforementioned jerk bait. Fish were taken off points, steep rocky bluffs, woody shoreline and near weed lines. The ability to catch so many fish on such a variety of baits and on almost any cover made it a really unique experience, the only problem being that we did not have the size needed to put us in contention for any awards, except for maybe best dressed. If only they accepted humans, then we might have a substantial 160 pound lead.
Two beautiful smallmouth bass and the biggest thing caught all weekend.
"The Jerk" who accidentally hooked into me was a really nice guy, which was fitting since nice guys finish last and that's exactly where we ended up with a total weight of 15.99 pounds for two days, well behind the winners total of 26.05 pounds. Did I just crack some kind of bass code here, if I invent a nice-bait and start acting like a jerk maybe I can win some tournaments? It's worth a shot, "Hey everybody, I hope you all get parking tickets and eat bad seafood tomorrow!" Now time to work on the bait.
My partner for day number two was a guy named Guy, no joke. Currently in 12th place (out of 117), he had a lot to fish for. With a chance to make the final cut (the cut being at 10), there would be no messing around this morning. Guy was flashing a full frontal flavor savor with a touch of just for men's gel, I'm guessing to savor the taste of victory for a few extra days if he happened to win. What this told me about the man, was he had a game plan and an organized boat. Anyone willing to spend time getting all Picasso on their lower lip hair must live and fish in a clean environment.
My keen awareness of his facial hair situation was spot on! It was an honor to bring my gear on to the the back deck of his boat. Less clutter meant no distractions, just fishing! The only problem being that fish don't care about facial hair or clean boats. The real story on day number two was the wind! Gusts were up to 40 mph blowing our faces like a torch and really ruining Guy's bite from day number 1. This supreme breeze made it difficult for me to fish the smaller finesse baits I like to throw from the back of the boat. I had to switch to a heavier arsenal of jigs and a texas rigged soft plastics. Guy ended the day landing two keepers (not enough to make the cut), while I was able to pull out just one.
Unfortunately bigger trucks don't = bigger bass.
Finishing 78th out of 117 humbled this salmon greatly, like a burly Alaskan grizzly bear. Stopping me mid leap, hurting me temporarily and putting things into perspective so I could make the educated decision to jump again or swim back to sea. The weekend may have left my figurative flavor savor filled with defeat, but tomorrow is another day and I just bought a bunch of razors from Costco.
Alright, so it wasn't all heartbreak. Beautiful 4.03 pound Lake Havasu Largemouth.
It is better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all. Alfred Lord Tennyson's famous quote really summed up my latest fishing adventure. On the long drive out to Arizona, I dreamed of winning a fully rigged bass boat only to have my dreams crushed by a hottie named Havasu. This was my first big money tournament and a chance for me to take a salmon style leap up to the next pool of competitive bass fishing.
Leaving the concrete jungle for the chance at fishing fame and fortune.
Hope and anticipation fueling my mind like a tikki torch, I left the concrete jungle for the arid desert landscape of Lake Havasu, Arizona. My game plan was to go out and fish like I normally do, taking advantage of the opportunities put in front of me by the professional, working a drop shot or senko with some reaction baits thrown in if the fish were actively feeding. The weather was going to be nice, in the upper 70's with some high winds expected the second day. Water temperatures were in the mid fifties, meaning some of the fish would be spawning or getting ready to spawn (60 degrees being the magic #) while others would be in pre-spawn mode.
Damn!
Gas was nothing nice but the open road was sure friendly.
The open road...
I arrived at the pre-tournament meeting to register and find out who my partner would be for day number one. After a few prayer sessions with Al Lindner (host of In-Fisherman and Hall of Fame Angler), I got partnered up with Jim. He was enthusiastic and hopeful but seemed a little tipsy when I got up close to talk with him. Swerving back and forth like a buoy, Mr. Beam grabbed my shoulders and repeatedly asked me what my name was. I got what little information I could off of him, then went back to my room to prepare myself for the big day.
A little pre-tournament clutter.
Jim was in better shape when he picked me up at 6:00 am outside of my motel. As a co-angler you have to be able to adapt to the conditions of the day as well as the conditions of the angler you are fishing with. We launched our boat and enjoyed another prayer session before blast off. Jim's dog accompanied us on our adventure as he slumped Pink on his radio and drove to our first spot. I had a feeling I was taking this day a little more serious than he was. Mr. Beam was a pro, with sponsors spooning him $$$, while I had to fork up the entry fee myself and when you eat with a fork, every bite makes it to your mouth while a spoon tends to spill out and get messy. I sure hope Mr. Beam eats with a bib.
The anticipation at the start of the day.
The highlight of the day came at Jim's expense. A fish took his bait while he was untangling line from his reel. How was he going to get this fish in the boat you ask? Well, he decided to transform into the Fresh Prince of the Desert and get all hip-hop, wrapping the line around his hand, putting on coil after coil faster and faster to the beat of the fish, as it cut into his flesh. After an epic battle, he finally got the fish to the boat and I netted that small-mouth bass like DJ Jazzy Jeff! We exchanged knuckles feeling really good about ourselves as if we had just finished a great set.
How bout a bite, huh.
Jim ended the day with two bass in the live well while I goose egged. The question leading into day number two was;
Will this salmon keep swimming against the current or will he be discouraged and swim back out to sea with his caudal fin tucked between his pelvic fins?
To be continued...
A little embarrassed, skunked on my first big tournament. Rather be winning than watching.
To make a dream come true! My float tube mistress, Tammi, came through on our very first date. Not only did she satisfy me once, she gave it to me a second time.
First float tube go out.
I originally planned for a test run, not expecting anything, just making sure I would be prepared for a second date. Did I give her enough air? Where should I stick my extra rods? Do I have the right kind of fins?
First bass of the day.
Like any great first date, you don't want to move too fast, but you want to make sure to give the other party a sign, so they know you are interested. This fine line between classy and trashy is a tough one to balance.
Mid battle with bass number two.
If she would have stood me up (shown up with a hole in her tube or something), I would have been devastated. If she came out with me, but I didn't catch anything, it might be awhile before I take her out again (I'm talking bass not crabs, this isn't deadliest catch people). Finally, if I took her out and she hooked me up with 20 ten pound bass, I would think geez, this is a little too easy.
Tammi balanced this fine line between classy and trashy like the great Shawn Johnson did the balance beam at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Tammi might not of won gold but she metaled in maturity in my eyes! Giving me a taste, not stuffing me to the gills by putting me on two nice bass! Equivalent to a heavy make out session with some tushy touching. Like Ace of BASS says, "I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes I saw the sign!"
Way to balance that beam Shawn!
Tammi made my dreams come true on our first date, can't wait to see what she does for me on our second! Is it too soon for 6 ten pounders?
What better place to spend the end of the year than at the Bass Pro Shops in Las Vegas Nevada! Looking back on a really exciting fishing season for me. I won my first tournament, beating out 39 other anglers at Santa Margarita Lake in April. I also discovered I enjoy writing! It has never been one of my favorite activities in school, I was more of a Bill Nye guy. Writing is a great outlet that quenches the brain like an ice cold Gatorade after a long run. Each thought put on paper is a newly swallowed gulp of liquid. Ahhhh.
For the year I fished 10 tournaments, 2 more than my goal of 8. Below is a summary of my results. I missed a couple months because of weddings, but it was well worth it to see some good friends take the plunge into the pond of marriage.
Month
Lake
Results
Total Anglers
February
Lopez
9
20
March
Pyramid
13
16
April
Santa Margarita
1
39
$
April
Piru
3
14
$
May
Cachuma
8
13
June
Lopez
14
30
July
Castaic
10
13
September
Castaic
2
13
October
Pyramid
3
12
$
December
Piru
5
11
Average
6.8
18.1
Ah, Bass Pro Shops Las Vegas... The outdoormans Toys-R-Us with booze, gambling, guns and giant aquariums. I stocked up on some supplies for the year and took notice of all the wacky T shirts and crazy bass memorabilia. From bass mailboxes, bass wine holders, bass doormats and even a DVD entitled Girls Gone Grabbin 2! Which is about girls who wrestle with giant catfish a technique called doodling. Lots of fishing related stuff at this BPS.
Giant aquarium with ornaments.
That bass is thirsty, give em some vino!
Stuff that bass with some junk mail!
Not short on silly shirts at BPS.
Me too!
I don't know about you but I am getting turned on.
In the New Year I hope to take my blog from Fremont Street to The Strip. Add a little more glitz and glamor with some videos and the introduction of my new float tube, Tammi. Not completely turning my back on the charm of old Vegas, just wrapping it up in a fancier package. I mean, Vegas would be nothing without Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley, Celine Dion would still be in Canada singing at hockey games if it wasn't for them. In 2012 I hope to catch my first ten pound bass, fish at least two FLW big money tournaments and eight tournaments in all.
Hi Tammi.
If only my blog could look like this guy. Flashy Vegas Elvis. "I'm a hunk a hunk of burning love."
So here is to another year of, "All On The Line", lets see where the bass gods take us this year. Carrie Underwood might say, "Jesus take the wheel", but us bass fisherman like to say, "Cletus take the reel."Just watch video below and you'll see:
I don't consider myself a "Superstitious" angler, so when my partner told me we would be fishing "Stevie Wonder" style I thought to myself, "We can work it out." If Mr. Wonder can catch over twenty Grammy's playing an instrument he can't even see, I'm sure we can fool a few bass. "Fishing blind" is a term anglers use when their boats sonar system is out. Which may or may not be a big deal depending on the time of year and your style of fishing. In winter when bass migrate to deeper haunts it can be a very helpful tool to find humps and clusters of concentrated large-mouths.
Think of a boats sonar system as a bat flying through a dark cave on the hunt for flying insects. Also referred to as "echolocation" a bat uses the echo of sound waves to determine the shapes of surrounding objects like bugs. A bass boat uses "bassolocation" to help determine where the fish are.
A beautiful crisp winters day at Piru.
We began our day in an area where my partner had success a month ago in shallow water. With the water temperature dropping considerably in the last few weeks (In the lower fifties), my "fishy" sense told me that deeper was the way to go. Not being able to take the blindfold off our boat, we would have to use our deep jigs and drop shots to navigate the lakes bottom like a blind man uses his cane to get down a busy sidewalk. Sure we might bump into an occasional stranger or bush but we'll get where we need to be eventually.
The only problem with this scenario is in a tournament time is an issue. Not only are we up against momma bass we are also battling with father time. We caught our first fish around 9 am near the dam in deeper water on a six inch purple worm rigged on a drop shot. Our second fish coming an hour later also on a drop shot but a different color, prism craw. The last keeper fish of the day was caught around 2 pm in a totally different area then the first two fish. Our three fish limit came in at 7.16 pounds good enough for fifth place out of eleven teams. The winner had a five fish limit weighing 11.58 pounds, their big fish came in at 3.75 lbs and was caught on a jig, something we should have committed more time to.
In summary it was a really tough day on lake Piru. With temperatures as cold as polar bear farts I'm surprised we caught fish at all. On the bright side, not every song Stevie Wonder wrote won a Grammy. Our day was a lot like one of those songs, a good listen but I'm not going to sing it at my daughters wedding.
We are all chasing after something we can't see, hoping what ever it is we are going after, if we catch it at all, fulfills us in some way.
There are many people in life that never go out and get a tackle box. They figure what's the point, I'll never catch anything, why waste the money?
Some people know exactly what to buy and where to cast, catching fish after fish, filling their limit and going home.
Others stay on the water their whole lives, becoming the osprey, searching and catching never looking back. Addicted to the thrill of the game.
Another group of people are confused, not sure where to cast or when to set the hook. "Was that a bite or did I just snag some weeds?" They look back at past catches wondering if they let the "Big One" slip through their fingers. Lost in a murky sea with a blanket of fog on the horizon.
At the end of the day, some people in life don't like to fish at all, some fish to catch a limit, others want to catch everything that swims and the rest of us like to fish but aren't sure why., but all of us that got up out of bed, tied one on and caught a few, wonder about the one that got away... the one we never got to see at all.
Sky man out.
Thought I would bust out a philosophical post for ya'll, considering it's the holidays.
