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Outdoors with Larry Dablemont: The one that got away

            I like fishing big reservoirs in March. Fifty-five years ago, I fished Beaver Lake with an uncle on a cold, windy day using a lure called a spider, just a big spinner bait of that time. For three hours I didn’t catch a single bass, but about ten in the morning, only a hundred yards from my truck, I was rewarded by a hard strike. The biggest bass I have ever seen nailed the spider and fought hard for nearly ten minutes. I gazed in awe at the huge fish in the water beside me and finally got my thumb in his mouth. His fight ended with a few flops on the boat floor.

           

In Rogers, Arkansas, at a sport shop, they weighed the bass at nine pounds and 14 ounces, for which I got a ‘lunker pin.’ I had the fish mounted because I knew it was my last and only chance at a ten pounder. My uncle said it surely had weighed ten pounds when I caught it, but I should have put a rock in its gullet anyway. Only a few years back, however, I landed a nine pounder from Truman Lake, and I have caught several eight-pound bass from various waters lakes, ponds and rivers. I must admit to losing more bass of that size than have landed.

     


The best place to be in March. (Photo submitted by Larry Dablemont)
The best place to be in March. (Photo submitted by Larry Dablemont)

      

But it is rivers that I love to fish and last week when the temperature rose into the 70s, I took a trip to a river, going about five miles upstream from an Ozark reservoir. It’s a reservoir where I have never caught a smallmouth bass. But there must be some there because every March there is a movement of smallmouth up that river. It is something you are not supposed to see in smallmouth, a bona-fide migration of hundreds of smallmouth. By sometime in May they are gone. 

           

I found them last week and one afternoon I had a ball catching forty or fifty 14- to 18-inch brown bass out of one deep eddy. I was all by myself and the calm, peaceful river was a reward in itself for the few hours I spent there. I was lucky to have found the bass. They were deep in a ten-foot hole about 40 feet wide. For about three hours they hit any deep-running lure I tied on, six different lures. But what they seemed to like best was a six-inch stick-bait that I could crank down about four or five feet. And with that I had something rare happen. There was a savage strike and after it, instead of a struggle, there was just a hard pull. Moments later I saw why…there was a 13-inch smallmouth on the rear treble hook and a 16-incher on the front hooks. Together there were about three pounds of bass. I netted them and there was chaos on the floor of my boat. It is hard to disengage the hooks on a pair of bass doing most of the fighting after they have been boated.

           

But the worst was yet to come. I was casting a sinking, wobbling lure once known as a ‘Cordell Hot-Spot’ when it was engulfed by a slab-sided frog-eater of a smallmouth. I could see his broad bronze side when he came deep alongside the boat, fighting against my drag with a fury I had yet to see on that day. I got him in close enough to just see a big tail wave good bye. He made a powerful lunge that broke the line. I hated losing that lure; hated losing the smallmouth. I would have released him anyway but had he visited the inside of my boat I would have been able to tell you how long he was. I am sure, in doing the algebraic equation of x equal a five-inch tail and a five-inch tail equaling better than four pounds in fish weight, that he weighed better than four pounds. Being an outdoor writer bound to uphold the ‘truth in journalism’ rule, I wouldn’t stretch things about any fish I lost, though I have exaggerated a couple that I caught. For instance, before the day was over, I hooked a real whopper-dock of a brownie and landed him. I would love to tell you he was and 18-incher but he wasn’t. He was short of it by about 3/8ths of an inch, doggone it. It could have been a half an inch or maybe less. The fish just wouldn’t lie still to be measured accurately. If I had scrunched up his tail, I expect I could call him an eighteen incher…but I am a real stickler for accuracy. I may go back and measure him again this week!


My website, which shows all my books and magazines, is www.larrydablemont.com and my email address is lightninridge47@gmail.com

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