Save the last bass for me

ROCKY FORK LAKE — The Perry County Anglers bass fishing club rolled the dice with their 2024 schedule when they scheduled a March 24^th tournament at Rocky Fork Lake in Highland County. The gamble paid well, but the ante had us launching boats at a temperature one degree lower than the day’s date.  The accompanying east southeast light wind took all the fun from the phrase “gentle breeze.”

Driving like a bat out of Moxahala at 3: “dark” 30 a.m., I really didn’t notice the sub-freezing conditions thanks to the heater in my Tundra. However, it was just me, the full moon, and 23 degrees at Rocky Fork’s east ramp by 5:48 a.m.

Despite the frigid temps, the old tournament adage “that somebody always finds the fish” proved true as 24 anglers brought 39 bass to the 3:30 weigh-in. Multiple members toted bags holding five bass limits including Ab Reed. His five bass limit weighed 12.82 pounds and took first place honors. Ab also secured the ‘10 pound pot’ with a lure he will never throw again.

“When I caught that last one, I checked my line and saw this.” Ab was displaying his winning squarebill crankbait that was missing most of the bait’s lip. Chances are this consistent competitor has a spare crankbait or 500 so he should be good to cast by the time we hit Buckeye Lake.

The next three spots were dominated by Wayne, Wayne, and his other brother, Wayne. I may have to start impeachment proceedings on this Wayne bunch. Jacob Wayne had a five bass limit good enough for second place. Jacob’s limit weighed 8.58 pounds. In third place was his father, Alan Wayne, with three bass caught on two different lipless crankbaits. His bass trio weighed 7.87 pounds.

Finishing fourth by .01 ounces was Jordan Wayne, Jacob’s brother. His four bass weighed 7.86 pounds. We always have a big bass pot that costs $5.00 per angler. That honor went to a non-Wayne angler. Brad Frazier landed a 4.59 largemouth bass that was hiding behind a stump that Wes Clutter had just pounded with a variety of lures.

“I threw all kind of baits at the stump and finally gave up,” described Wes, one of the club’s best anglers. “I saw Brad pull in on that stump and catch that bass on his first cast!” laughed Wes.

Another angler with a limit was Jeff Redfern. I remember holding youth fishing events at the pond in Crooksville’s Village Park where a much younger Jeff was always a “stick.” In his high school years, he was the starting center for me when I was the head football coach at Crooksville High School.

At the Rocky Fork tournament, his excitement over having a five bass limit quickly faded when he took the official scales from its case and an important piece of it snapped off. Fortunately, one of the perks for attending a media event at the recent Major League Fishing (MLF) Redcrest Championship was a Bubba Scale that is now the official scales for all MLF tournaments. Having my Bubba Scale with me was the best thing I brought to the tournament until my last cast of the day.

I had fished a variety of lures throughout the day without registering a single hit. If mosquitos had been swarming by the millions, I would have gone bite free. If the Zombie Apocalypse had taken place on my boat, I wouldn’t have gotten a scratch from those neck biters.

Cast after cast with the same baits my Perry County Angler counterparts were throwing failed to produce anything close to a keeper bass. Our club practices full disclosure on the successful baits of the day (which virtually guarantees I always throw the lures that worked at the previous tournament but not the current one).

After fishing a long point, I decided to finish the day along a promising looking shoreline. That promise wasn’t worth a broken umbrella in a hurricane, so I packed the rods and headed for the ramp. When I checked the time, 12 minutes remained in the fishing day.

Tick, tick, tick… (10 minutes)

Angling anticipation was quickly becoming blanking frustration. A shoreline retaining wall close to the ramp had looked “bassy” all day to me so reached into the rod locker one last time. It had a Blue Rock Triple Threat jig with a Rapala Ned bait for a trailer tied on the line.

Tick, tick, tick… (7 minutes)

“Okay, this is my last cast,” I said aloud. That cast may have been one of the worst casts on a day when hundreds of more accurate casts had failed miserably. And of course it failed too.

Tick, tick, tick…. (4 minutes)

Again, I spoke to the fish. “Okay, bass, I lied,” and then made another cast. Immediately I felt a subtle bump that had to be a bite. I remembered having one back in ’97. A quick hookset and brief battle had a keeper bass in the boat on that last cast.

The sun shined brighter; the temperature lost its chill; the pain in my surgically repaired knee (shoulders, elbow, wrist, ankle, other knee) amazingly disappeared. Maybe it was the double dose of Aleve talking. But the season’s first tournament ended with me headed for the weigh-in wearing a sandpaper-proof smile when Rocky Fork Lake decided to save the last bass for me.