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You ever had one of those weeks? I know, everyone has. Now, before I get clowned, I do realize these things are truly trivial and that 90% of the world had a worse week than me. It's hyperbole and I know it. Just bear with me.
Anyway, all week I trudged through work with the excitement that each night of the week offered something to look forward to. For three nights, it was softball. All three games were rained out. Friday was a night tournament on Wilson with my wife. This event, in particular, I looked forward to the most.
Wilson has been my best tournament lake, by far. I have failed to case a check in only about three tournaments that I have ever fished. My best tournaments have come on Wilson.
Sure, last Saturday's tournament wasn't very good, but some crazy things happened to the pattern in under 12 hours that took us from a likely 13 pound three fish limit to failing to weigh a limit at all. You can read about that trip by clicking the link below.
I also had some feeling that this would be the last time I had Big Booty Judy (that's my boat's name, not my wife) out on the water. I have been having some serious issues getting her on plane with a full load. I had already planned to take it in for warranty work.
Wouldn't you know it, a storm rolled in and held us out an extra hour. That was bad for me as I was planning to go froggin' around grass and needed the sun.
Eventually we blasted off and I headed back into Shoal's Creek. I found my magic stretch of grass and went to work with a variety of baits. First, I started out a little deeper, thinking the weather might push the fish out and get them roaming. For that, I threw a chatterbait and a swim jib, both with PowerTeam Lures Swinging Hammer Swimbait.
Meanwhile, Alyse was throwing a Spro Little John. In one small spot about three yards, she caught three or four short largemouth. It wasn't a great start, but the consistency on the bites told me they might still be buried up in the grass, despite the weather. I couldn't get them to bait moving baits, so I went to flipping. In particular was a brush pile in 5 feet on the edge of the grass. I was flipping behind the visible section of the pile when the line started moving to the left. So, I set the hook.
It wasn't a fish. The line was sliding down a branch I couldn't see. So, I am jigging on the rod and trying to pop it free, but unable to get the job done.
So, I troll up to it and I still can't get it. I step forward on the deck......
....and go head first into the water. It happened so fast that my mouth was wide open yelling obscenities when I went into the drink. In the process, I broke 3 guides off my rod. Awesome.
The good news is, the water was 90 degrees. Yes. 90. And there were no snakes or turtles in the brush pile.
The evening only went downhill from there. Aside from a single catfish and a ton of bream bites, we didn't land a measuring bass. The story from everyone was pretty much the same. If you didn't catch anything before dark, you didn't catch them. That is, other than the winning boat, which had 8 pounds including a 4 pound smallie.
The local Friday night derby had 20 or so boats and the weights and numbers were the same.
After dark I jigged and threw a shakey head on a variety of areas including docks, bluffs, and main river points. Nothing seemed to work.
So, Judy went to the shop today and who knows when I'll be back on the water. Not that it really matters because the combination of drought and heat has made fishing all but impossible. I hate to say it, but the grass mats on Guntersville are looking appealing.
I just wish I had that fall on GoPro.
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