You didn't have to scroll far to see how the day truly went. I'd love to keep you all in suspense about how we accomplished a Seventh-Place finish in the first event of the year, but it would be extremely anti-climatic. Which, ironically, is EXACTLY how the weekend went.
Let's set the stage.
We have fished Neely Henry in May or June, I believe, every time Josh and I have fished it. It's been pretty poor each year we've fished it but each year we learned a bit more. Being in Gadsden, it's pretty far for us to come just fun fish it. Even making it to practice a few times is a struggle. But, just as we were learning the lake and fishing it's nuances late in the spring, the ABT moved it to February.
You can read about last year's tournament here: ABT on Neely Henry 2021
Life made it impossible for Josh and I to prefish leading up to the week of the tournament. Plus, we knew a really bad front was moving in late Thursday, which would likely change a lot, anyway. But, I strolled into town Thursday at 10AM and put in at Coosa Landing. I was greeted with 20-30MPH winds, lots of current, low water levels, and a lot of stain on the water. I decided to start fishing up river because I had a suspicion that I could eliminate that entire end of the lake pretty quickly, simply because of the water level and stain in the water.
I checked every current break I could. Using forward facing sonar, I could see that there was a lot of bait positioned and occasionally I might see what I was pretty sure was a bass or two, but by the time I was blown off the river a 1PM, I hadn't caught a fish.
No matter. I accomplished what I had hoped to do.
We rented a really nice tiny house in a nearby campground with a few of our friends. We hung out Thursday, got some wings, had some laughs, and discussed fishing. Our friends had gone down river and had caught a good bag flipping wood in creeks. Pretty much the opposite of what I had done.
Josh arrived early Friday morning to pretty serious post-frontal conditions. Not QUITE as bad as what would take place Saturday, with the blue-bird skies and all, but pretty bad.
Fishing in a few creeks, Shoat and Canoe in particular, we had two bites all Friday. Both on a chatterbait.
We had lunch at Little Bridge BBQ, a new tradition we've had the last few years. Except this year, instead of coming out of the June heat, it was warming up from the February cold.
We had no more bites Friday.
At dinner with our friends, we all compared notes. We had the notes of a lot of really good anglers including a few ABT event winners. We couldn't scratch up a limit among us from Friday. At this point, it was "catch five fish and be happy." The thing with qualifying for the ABT Championship is, you can't really qualify the first day (unless you win) but you can sure lose your chance. Been there. Done that. Sometimes you just want to place around 100th and move on.
One thing we did notice was, most of the fish catches were all coming from Canoe creek. So, we decided that we would head to Canoe and hope for the best.
Saturday morning was cold. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. There wasn't a lot of joy emanating from the fishermen around us. Expectations were obviously tempered. I had paired down my tackle to just four rods: a texas-rig, a black and blue jig, a chatterbait, and a spinnerbait. Our plan was simple: set the boat down in Canoe and start covering water. If we got bit, we'd slow down. In the afternoon, we would start hoping over to where I caught the big fish and hope it wasn't a fluke.
The first couple of spots didn't result in anything. No surprise. We had said that any fish caught before noon was a bonus and since we were boat 205, we had until 4:30 to figure it out. Cloudless skies. Lots of water color. Water temps hovering around 54 degrees.
We found a pocket that held some really clean water and some nice looking grass edges. When we made it to the back, I had a bite, but the line broke. Josh had a bite that didn't hook up. There was another boat in the pocket and we watched them catch two or three fish. All were small, but they were catching them off the point of the pocket and were sitting in the same spot, making the same cast.
I suppose that got Josh's mind turning and we headed back to the mouth of the pocket, about 100 yards or more away for the other boat. He stopped on the first drop from the long flat. Working down the outside of the cove, he hooked up with a decent fish on a chatterbait.
So, we slowed down. Minutes later, he hooked a bit larger fish...probably a solid 2.5-poudner on a shakey head. Minutes later, I caught a three or so on the texas-rig. Three good fish. A good start. The spot went dormant. We ran to our big fish pocket, but had no bites so we came back.
Josh boated our largest fish, again on a shakey head. We were fairly ecstatic at this point. None of these fish were small. We figured that getting a fifth fish....any fifth fish....would result in a check.
The hours went by. We covered water. Came back to the same spot. Rinse and repeat. Nothing. Time was slipping away.
There was this one dark spot that both Josh and I had cast at dozens of times nearby. It was some sort of structure but it was so shallow that couldn't tell what it was. But it just looked like it should hold a fish. With about an hour ago, Josh made what was probably his tenth cast to it. Except this time, a fish bit. Then she ran right into the heart of whatever it was. It turned out to be a rock. His line frayed and popped. The fish jumped, trying to throw the bait. It wasn't huge, but a two-pounder would have been huge for us.
We started making our way up river, stopping at some spots that we felt might have a random fish on it. But on one of these stops, I pulled up the live leaderboard and I was floored with what I saw. I knew we had around ten-pounds and at 4PM, that was good for third place. I didn't think we could scrounge a five pounder to catch the 16 pound bag ahead of us, but I also knew a LOT of boats hadn't weighed in.
But a lot had. As I scrolled, it was already a mathematical certainly that we would at least get a check. I had counted over 100 zero'd out boats and anyone who had a fish was getting a check.
Alas, we never got another bite, but as the line dwindled, it became apparent that we were going to finish in the Top 10 with four fish for 10.18. Good enough for 7th Place.
A Top 10 finish is exactly that. I guess it's something to be proud of? It's not the way I wanted to get my second Top 10. Last year's 7th Place Finish on Weiss Lake was the complete opposite. It was surprising and satisfying because we really crunched the variables down, made some terrific choices, and were simply flawless in clutch time.
Not this time around.
But, as I said, you can't win your qualification to the Championship on the first tournament, but you can dang sure lose it. Not this time.
