TOO HOT! TOO FUN!
I made the promise. The one that is so dreaded to keep this early in the season. “I will only fish one day this weekend, probably Sunday.” I was excited to explore a Nopiming lake that I had not fished before but was a touch anxious about rock hazards. I fired off some text messages to a friend. He kindly sketched out the reefs on a Google map image and teased me with a picture of a smallmouth bass with a deerhair popper in its mouth. In passing he mentioned he’d be banking Sunday to get into the “goodbooks” given the weather forecast was not ideal. Not ideal? I thought it looked great, 27 degrees, overcast, with some gusts in the late afternoon.
Saturday looked like a day from down under, a blistering 35 degrees. Enough to send me into a midday heat exhaustion meltdown!
But that passing comment lingered long enough to send a sliver of doubt about picking Sunday. Decisions, decisions. The clock struck 11 pm Friday eve, my wife was eager to know, “So, what will it be? Saturday or Sunday?”
“Saturday! Bring the heat!”
THE DAWN OF A NEW DAY
Morning came, and I was puttering through a creek channel into a back lake. The surface water temps were already into the 70s! And a boat had beat me into the lake. Well let’s hope they saved some fish for me. I checked buddy’s map. Thank goodness I was taking it slow. I was not even on the main lake and already en route for a skegbuster.
A MINEFIELD
After a quick course correct, I looked for the closest, fish-iest spot on the map, a point with a shallow extension. I pulled up and it was strewn with small boulders. Perfect! And two cruising bass stood out over the lightly coloured bottom.
Too easy! I grabbed the only pre-rigged fly rod and swapped out flies. There is only one real option when fly fishing for bass. Maximize the pleasure! I reached straight for the topwater box.
A deerhair popper with google eyes that were barely hanging on by a bead of glue begged to be noticed. More of a natural and subtle pop should be enough. I lost track of where the fish swam off to. After three casts a shadow came peeling over from the right and engulfed the fly. Stripping down I felt a good hook set, a quick burst of line and then dead weight, the line did not move. In that brief time, I had hooked up with a bronzie and snagged up onto a rock. I motored over with the electric to free the snagged fly. How did Mr. Bass manage to do that?
OUTSMARTED
Clever fish. Thankfully, there was no time to dwell on that first failed attempt. I turned the corner of the point and the shoreline looked much the same. I lay up a cast next to a half-submerged boulder. Within a second a greedy bass opened its mouth and launched up towards the popper. This fish fought just under the surface, and I could tell it wanted to go aerial like any good self-respecting bass does. I kept my rod doubled over low to the water to keep it down. Not to be outdone this bass made its way up out of the water with a couple tail walks. I had a good hookset and my net was at hand. After two failed scoops, the bass succumbed. I snapped a couple photos and kept on moving along.
Not 10 minutes later another bass came up, this time inspecting the fly from below with her beady red eyes. It looked more than willing to tango. A couple twitches was all it took, and the bass was thoroughly annoyed by the popper. This thing needs to be eaten! Opening its mouth wide the fly disappeared. My rod bent beneath the boat as the smallmouth dived and dogged deep, swimming bow to stern and back again. As she came to the surface a trail of blood followed it. The fly was lodged deep in the gills. No time for a shameful selfie on this fish. All focus was directed to getting the hook out quick and the bass back into the water.
(IMAGE – a bass and fly photo)
A FRENZY IN A HEATWAVE!
The opportunity that was unfolding was clear. This heatwave had the smallmouth on a frenzy. I could even hear the boat on the other side of the lake cheering with outbursts of laughter. I will never forget this morning. That one fly stayed tied on for the next 30 plus bass. All slightly smaller than the first two, but that didn’t matter. They were all looking up!
NO TIME TO SLOW DOWN
I looked down at my graph. I had barely made a dent exploring all the potential shorelines of this lake! But why move to new water when the bass are biting here? I checked the cellphone for the time. 2:00 pm and I had not stopped to grab a bite to eat. I also saw a couple texts from the wife reminding me to keep hydrated. The fly line was landing in piles and the fly was not hitting its targets. I could no longer stand on the boat deck barefooted as the vinyl and carpet was baking hot under the orange sky. Maybe I was past the point of no return. Time to find a sliver of shade, eat some food and take a nap. I need energy for an evening bite.
The wind really picked up, and the sun’s angle had dropped enough that I could not see into the water. This killed the fun of anticipating and visualizing the basses’ next move. I was able to pick off several bass after my nap on the windswept banks, but the action slowly petered off. I forced myself off the lake, to leave the bass for another day.
A DREAM DAY
Driving home on the gravel roads I was stuck in the high from a great day on the water. How will I ever duplicate this again? For now I’ll chalk it up to luck, a good hunch from a friend and keep pressing the replay button as I recount each bass rising up to engulf that popper.
Next time a sunny heatwave hits around the post spawn season I’ll be on the water, waiting for that first bronzeback to look up!