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Larry
decided to head home first thing to get a head start with all his
upcoming challenges (along with surprising Sharon by being home early).
After we helped him get on his way, which warmed us up a little, I
launched for my last day on the lake. It was chilly, but very nice out
over all. Just a light breeze.
I
ran up to the minnow point hoping to pop one more giant. We
hadn’t caught a ton up there during the week, but several we
did catch or lose were over 5 pounds. We saw several more toads busting
minnows or following our lures to the boat.
I
got there to see scattered bass busting minnows in calm water. I
slammed one respectable keeper on the spinnerbait. It hit pretty darn
hard. I was moving the spinnerbait right along, but not top speed. I
had another one on a tube that felt solid. I had thrown in where I saw
one bust a moment earlier. I didn’t do something right and
this bass pulled off. A few minutes later, an angler in another boat
hooked and landed one about 3 pounds in the same general area.
The
breeze picked up just a little and topwater activity tapered off. The
bite got even slower so I headed for Larry’s sand spots. I
fished there a while, smacking 1 decent keeper, but that was it. I
think the fast drop in water temp kept the fish sparse. Larry had
worked them over good yesterday too.
I
decided to risk running into the local again on the small spot farther
north so I ran up there. Good move. I had the spot to myself. I quickly
caught a solid smallie on the edge of a hole. Then I had too more smack
the same spinnerbait by throwing it over the edge of the hole. The 3rd
bass was fairly long with tall sides, but it was deformed so that it
had a sharp ridge all the way down its back, kind of like a hatchet
blade. It hit and fought hard, but it was missing a lot of muscle mass
or it would have been over 4 pounds for its length and depth.
I
caught one more nice keeper – a 3+ - by drifting a wacky-rig
Xtreme Bass melon tinsel Xworm over the edge of the hole. Then the spot
decided I’d caught enough. I tried various speeds and
techniques to no avail. Being my last day, time was a-wastin’
so back south I went.
I
heard the lure (no pun intended) of those big toads on the minnow point
one more time and stopped on my way by. No one there now. I popped a
small keeper on the spinnerbait. Then had one swat it, but not real
big. I knew right where big ones had been sitting often all week, but I
also knew they were definitely on to me. Repeated casts of various
jerkbaits, spinnerbaits, tubes and grubs produced only one BIG follower.
I
decided to try something extreme despite the reduced conditions. I took
my green shad War Eagle spinnerbait that had been bent repeatedly the
past few days by bass and pike and tossed it right at the corner of the
thickest weed clump. The instant it hit the water, I burned it away
from the weeds. I mean I had it flying so fast it was just a blur.
An
eye blink later, a much bigger torpedo-shaped blur intercepted the
spinnerbait, crushing it! It was what I imagine a seal feels when the
Great White blasts it! A huge incredibly long smallie blew out of the
water as I slammed the hammer down. This smallie was part steelhead. It
cleared the water straight for the clouds in an amazingly high jump. At
the same time, my spinnerbait blades catapulted 20 feet to the left.
The long whopper smallie immediately exploded out of the water again
reaching 3 or 4 feet above the water, and then was gone. The scene was
quiet again looking for all the world like nothing had happened.
All
I got back were my blades. The rest was gone with the LONG mean
fightin’ machine of a smally that I won’t soon
forget. The whole thing from cast to quiet again took about 3 seconds.
But what an amazing 3 seconds!
With
my heart beating strong and fierce again, I drove farther south and
stopped on my favorite rock point catching several dinks to medium
keepers. They were starting to school up again, but the tube
wasn’t getting them real well. I decided to test the bigger
rock field bass again – see if they were deciding to move in
and up again in the slowly warming water – but I’d
work my way there on the trolling motor. Just to pick up what I could
along the way. It was getting nicer and nicer out.
Ben
Trodder decided to run his boat right up on the rock edge I was
preparing to stealthily cast too. He seemed rather proud that he could
run right in front of me and ‘take’ the
spot… like a man I guess. I let him have it. There are
plenty more spots. I try not to want one that bad (and this is a very
rare occurrence in the north country luckily).
I
decided my renewed spinnerbait attack for big hawgs would best start by
moving right to the deeper boulder field that had produced a few big
bass all week including my monster bass last Sunday. I wasn’t
there long when two bass came from the inside – I’d
alternate casting out and in along the hard edge – stalking
my spinnerbait. This is what I really like about northern Michigan
smallie lakes – the big one outraced the smaller one at the
last minute to ambush its ‘target’ – one
of those real exciting strikes where you see the big torpedo gliding up
from behind, sneaking up on its intended victim. And then the last tail
kick – WHAM! The prey is engulfed!
I
timed my strike just right and hooked the big fish. After a hard
toe-to-toe battle, I landed one well over 4 pounds. Now we talking. I
hadn’t moved 50 feet when another loner bass pulled the exact
same maneuver from the deeper outside. Another jolting strike and
exciting close in battle around the trolling motor. Another one well
over 4 pounds. Now I’m really getting excited.
I
moved along having a short dry spell until I got to the next really
good rock point. I popped a 3+ on the north side of the point as I came
into the rock edge. I popped another quality bass almost 4 pounds on
the south side edge. I figured with bass on the move again that one big
one might have pulled up to the really big boulder on top of the middle
of the point (our group had caught at least two well over 5 there
earlier in the week) so I snuck up on it. Nothing.
Well,
you can only expect so much. But the boulder is in a depression and
there are other smaller boulders scattered through the hole. I kept the
spinnerbait wet by tossing it to the side of the hole as I took a sneak
peak at the key boulder. Just as I saw there were no toadies hiding
there anyway, a 4+ smallie shot up from a much smaller rock and killed
my spinnerbait. Man I love this kind of fishing!
The
bite disappeared again so I moved to another big boulder point I
hadn’t pestered much this week. The water was much murkier
here. I couldn’t even see a lot of the bigger boulders and
wasn’t getting bit, so I moved on down the rock edge.
I
started getting whacked again right away. Every few minutes, my
spinnerbait would get creamed by a smallie from 12 to 18 inches.
Farther down, I was really getting them near scattered logs. Every
other log produced 1 to 3 aggressive bass on the spinnerbait. To keep
them honest I kept tossing the spinnerbait out deeper and on one cast I
hit another ‘boulder’ that stopped my lure dead,
shook its powerful head several times and then pulled off. Man! That
felt like a toad!
Right
to the end of the rocks (and about the end of my trip) I was picking up
bass regularly. I ran into Bud and Judy then. Bud said he’d
caught a lot less bass than me although one almost 5 pounds. I
mentioned the heated up spinnerbait bite and that I was about ready to
head in and get on the road (unfortunately). I did fish the sand spot
one more time, but my luck had run out and the bass seemed wore out too.
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