I don’t get bass in the fall. Winter and spring bass make sense, they’re predictably unpredictable. In the fall, they just don’t seem to want to hangout with me at all, seeing as my recent trips for bass in the autumn have not been producing any of the intended species. In my last month of chasing bass around the central coast of California, my efforts have yielded a 30 lb catfish, and a two pound bluegill. No bass. Sure, a massive catfish is freaking awesome, but it is knocking down my pride a bit that I am frequenting lakes famous for their bass fishing, and not getting a single one.
And it’s not for a lack for trying, I’ve invested in a cheap inflatable kayak, I’ve thrown a range of flies from small nymphs to 10 inch monster flies that could take off my head if I made a bad cast. I’m using floating, intermediate, sink tip, and T-14 lines, fishing fast, slow, and I’ve even began singing to the water to try to romance some bass up. Nada. They want nothing to do with me. It’s driving me a bit insane.
I go from sunup to sundown, rowing my ass off in a little inflatable boat against strong winds, casting flies that make my arms hurt, and they refuse me time after time. At some point I should just come to the conclusion that maybe I’m in the wrong line of work. Maybe, but I’ve never been much of a lucky guy when it comes to fishing, although landing a gigantic catfish like that on a six weight rod and ten pound test has to count for something, right?
Maybe I’m taking it all a bit personally. In my defense, the bass bite has been all around relatively slow around here, and the weather is acting really strange. Maybe they’re just nervous about the state of this country they’re living in. I am too. They’re obviously not nervous eaters then, that’s for sure.
Whatever it is, I’ll be back out there in a few days, being a symbol of insanity, doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. But that’s what makes it fun, right?