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Date: April 22, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: DC Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 8:30 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Bright and clear; ESE winds to 10 mph; 45 to 60 degrees F. Water temps from 46 to almost 48 degrees F, 6+ feet of green clarity. Good friend, DC, and I hit the water with high expectations; conditions felt even better than two days previous. And, I had a known starting point! I deferred use of the jerk-bait to DC while I experimented with cranks, a spy-bait and a Berkley War Pig lipless crank. I wasn't too concerned about our slow start. It was a slightly chilly morning, and my action had occurred later on Friday. DC was buoyed by the appearance of a large bass behind his bait, but she did not bite. I was confident in both my recent and long-term history on this lake at this time of year. But when our slow start stretched into a very slow start, and multiple spots were all unproductive, we switched into search mode. Various jigs and blade baits were deployed; I switched to jerking with a variety of baits; and still, nothing moved for us. By 10:30 or so, with the sun higher, we returned to our starting point along a weed line. Suddenly, the bass were visible to us; they were where we'd expected (about 4 feet of water over dark bottom), there were lots of them, and they were not eating. We saw dozens, if not hundreds, of bass over the next couple of hours. Most ignored or actively rejected our offerings (now expanded into a variety of soft plastics and hair jigs), while just a few followed our baits. They weren't cruising; I'd speculate that they were staging in specific contact points as they emerged from the depths into the shallows. When it became obvious, even to me, that this was a seductive but unproductive approach to catching some bass this day, we again switched gears and targeted the bass that we couldn't see. I jerked and War-Pigged with determination, but it just never happened. We'd both had enough; we decided to salvage the rest of our day. But DC's wife was temporarily unavailable to pick him up, so we continued to fish. We relocated and picked up new baits. DC chose a Lucky Craft spy-bait, and on his second or third cast over shallow weeds, hung a really nice fish. Probably not quite four pounds, but still a fine bass! And we were no longer skunked! But that was it for the day; we had no more action in our remaining time. So here's what didn't work:
What do I have to say about this? Once again, I was rudely reminded that there's more to this sport that I don't know, than I actually do know. Reeds Lake served me her periodic dish of Humble Pie. It's bitter; but I have to admit, it's still Pie! And, I like Pie! I suspect that my previous notes will reveal mysterious skunks on trips that started with high expectations. I further suspect that many of these skunked trips involve critical transition periods, and especially this initial, pre-spawn staging. The fish are always responding to many environmental influences; my presence and lure presentations are just single factors in their world. Their collective minds and motivations were elsewhere on this day. That's okay; it's part of this fishing equation I have chosen to struggle with. When I solve this puzzle, I'll be pleased. But I also know that there are additional problems awaiting solution, too. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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