It's a good thing I don't use speech to text to write. If that were the case, my foot would be disabling me from creating this very article. In part one of this article, I mentioned that B.A.S.S. and it's lackluster diligence to re-seat a new National Conservation Director, seemed uninterested in getting the position filled. Secondarily, taking the national conservation meeting at the Classic out of the scene for yet another year. Well... ironically, the day after I posted the article, through e mails sent back and forth between all of us Federation Nation conservation guys, I was happy, exuberant, surprised and taken back to learn that Tim Cook (TX) had spoken with Jerry McKinnis (one of the new owners of B.A.S.S.) after Dave Santos (CT) had reported that Noreen Clough had been appointed the new National Conservation Director. Or should I say "re-appointed" given that she was the incumbent when Chris Horton came on board.
In such a case I am glad to be wrong in the sense that B.A.S.S. seemed to be ripped from its deep conservation minded roots. I guess I jumped the gun and didn't give it enough time. In Tim's messages with Mr. McKinnis it was evident that getting the program into full force again was one of the things weighing on his mind saying “I think the CD meeting is so important to achieve our goals.” Also making it evident that talks would resume about the meeting being held in the future. Not to throw a negative spin on things but what's the saying? 'Talk is cheap'. Not to say I'm not feeling positive about the recent subject attention, but at the same time I'm not going to let myself be taken to the races by talk. I want to see action. That qualifies as extra purchase to me and it speaks louder than words. In a realm where we, the guys doing this for free because we recognize that it drastically increases the quality of the sport, have been shown time over time all the 'mean nothings' that mere words offer. Jerry, if you are reading, I greatly appreciate what you are considering. But don't take it personal if some of us don't buy all-in until we are all sitting at a table sanctioned by B.A.S.S. discussing what we do best... protecting the resources of our sport.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
B.A.S.S.'s Unfortunate Crisis
It is what it is. The economic downturn that has brought company after company to it's knees and reeks havoc on the wallets of families across the nation, does not differentiate among 'good cause' efforts from organizations like the conservation initiative driven by B.A.S.S. for years and years. Any of the national conservation directors can tell you that the gears have all but stopped at the B.A.S.S. headquarters in Celebration, FL. Recently sold into new ownership, but no new direction. Where there used to be a national conservation director, is now an empty office chair after the leading mind of conservation efforts from B.A.S.S., Chris Horton, left the job for an opportunity in Federal Government. The position has yet to be refilled and B.A.S.S. does not seem to have any intention of refilling that office anytime soon. A once a year meeting held by B.A.S.S. at the Bassmaster Classic, bringing all the states together to discuss current issues is going into it's second year of non-existence. With all this, conservation minded anglers are beginning to wonder. What is becoming of this sport? What is the future, if in fact there even is one? The last shimmer of hope lies scattered across the nation in the hearts of the individual state's conservation leaders like Scott Sewell, conservation director of Maryland's B.A.S.S. affiliate, Federation Nation. He says it's a big difference now from the way things used to be, "and I don't mean that in a good way", before B.A.S.S. and TBF split apart. It left some bad blood laced with a little negativity mixed in on anglers' minds and on the water. Anglers parted ways and clubs dissolved. Is this what is happening to the conservation program? I'll leave names out of this statement but I have heard some say that it all boils down to selfish members that only want to fish. They just assume let a select few do all the 'extra' stuff and save their time for fishing. My personal take on it is this; if a person joins for the soul intent to fish tournaments then so be it. Let them. If everybody takes that stance however, there will be no big money purses, none of the sponsorship packages you dream of, good fisheries will head south and everything will go back to square one like Ray Scott never came up with the idea. It takes extra effort to make all this happen. The grandeur of it all depends on how many give that extra effort. You get out, what you put in. There isn't a more simple equation. For too long, too many have operated on the backs of other's good givings. Time, money, ideas. People have stopped stepping up to take their turn at the grind stone. It's going to take that in opposite to bring things back to glory.
My case is what some (if they really read me correctly) might call self serving. I became the conservation director for both my club and the DBFN for the same reason T.R. created the national parks; he liked to hunt the animals that lived there. He understood that these were the heirlooms of America. Places where people could see with their own eyes the majesty of this planet. In similar comparison, I enjoy the challenge bass fishing offers so I naturally want them to always be there in the waters I like to fish. In all honesty, if B.A.S.S. left the face of the earth tomorrow, I wouldn't quit fishing or spending time with other members of my club. Sure, my goal of being a competitor in the Classic would obviously change gears but it would not make the act of fishing any less fun.
The take-home here is that people are going to have to decide what they want the future to contain for the sport of bass fishing. If they want the glitz and glamor and spotlight time that big tournaments provide, they are going to have to do more than just pay the entry fee. They are going to have to say enough is enough and move forward with the things that make it all happen and ensure the road is paved for tomorrow. B.A.S.S. has long said that ensuring the future of the sport lies through conservation and youth. In my opinion that makes all the sense in the world. The two major components of the sport are the fish and people interested in catching them. But in recent years, it seems like those folks at B.A.S.S. have taken back that train of thought. Or maybe they still do take that stance but just can't quite get the wheels rolling enough to move ahead. Is it that the turmoil that ensued in so many different ways, brought everything to a screeching halt? Crippling the sport and driving the morale of the members into the ground? I'm no business genius by any measure, but I do know that being stagnant means death. This leadership must drudge on and stop letting these hurdles incapacitate the true value that makes bass fishing what it is... the people.
My case is what some (if they really read me correctly) might call self serving. I became the conservation director for both my club and the DBFN for the same reason T.R. created the national parks; he liked to hunt the animals that lived there. He understood that these were the heirlooms of America. Places where people could see with their own eyes the majesty of this planet. In similar comparison, I enjoy the challenge bass fishing offers so I naturally want them to always be there in the waters I like to fish. In all honesty, if B.A.S.S. left the face of the earth tomorrow, I wouldn't quit fishing or spending time with other members of my club. Sure, my goal of being a competitor in the Classic would obviously change gears but it would not make the act of fishing any less fun.
The take-home here is that people are going to have to decide what they want the future to contain for the sport of bass fishing. If they want the glitz and glamor and spotlight time that big tournaments provide, they are going to have to do more than just pay the entry fee. They are going to have to say enough is enough and move forward with the things that make it all happen and ensure the road is paved for tomorrow. B.A.S.S. has long said that ensuring the future of the sport lies through conservation and youth. In my opinion that makes all the sense in the world. The two major components of the sport are the fish and people interested in catching them. But in recent years, it seems like those folks at B.A.S.S. have taken back that train of thought. Or maybe they still do take that stance but just can't quite get the wheels rolling enough to move ahead. Is it that the turmoil that ensued in so many different ways, brought everything to a screeching halt? Crippling the sport and driving the morale of the members into the ground? I'm no business genius by any measure, but I do know that being stagnant means death. This leadership must drudge on and stop letting these hurdles incapacitate the true value that makes bass fishing what it is... the people.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Sinking Feeling
My bottom line is these ponds need to be dredged or they are just going to fill in. Which leaves me to the temptation to just forget about the shells altogether. I also pondered the thought of just adding more to each site, as it can only sink so far. In short, the above photo is the substitute for the awesome underwater photo I was trying for to show the couch shell that's not really there.
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Friday, August 13, 2010
Avoidance Is Not the Answer
Sunday August 1st, 2010. Arch nemesis: Upper Chesapeake Bay. Made it to the ramp on time despite my usual missed turn in Galena that sends me into Sassafras instead of Turner's Creek. It's still all good. Left Bob, LEFT damn it! Fellow club members, queue laughter. I figured going into this tournament I would just fish it like I fish the Potomac this time. A lot of the characteristics are similar if not the same and I usually do very well on the Potomac. I don't fish the Upper Chessie very much because that place just gives me bad vibes. I don't deny it's productivity and credentials as a world class bass fishery, it just gives me an uneasy feeling about navigation and basic mechanics of fishing there. It has a reputation for tearing up boats and gear and the fish tend to get widespread cases of lockjaw. I would advise greenhorns to use extreme caution here and learn it at a very slow pace. Take a couple of YEARS to learn the ins and outs of fishing the various tributaries and navigating them. Don't force yourself to learn it by fishing tournaments on the Upper Chesapeake because it will do to you what it has done to me. Discourage, rape your confidence and beat up your gear. My only saving grace is that I was born with a gift. Having nerves of steel and a head as hard as diamond... I'll learn it, just the hard way. You should learn it by learning from mine and others mistakes. A while back I vowed to never return to fish there again. That's not a good idea since a lot of the area's major tournaments are staged either on the North East or the Sassafras. (Both tributaries of the Chesapeake)
I started off in this tournament with high hopes of at least bringing in a few fish. From talking to other seasoned anglers of the water, I knew about a grass bed directly across the Sassafras from Turner's Creek. I made a B line to that location and immediately started finesse fishing a tiny T rigged creature bait, focusing on the area between shoreline structure and the edge of the grass. I was getting little bites but nothing would full on take it away. I put it down and grabbed a favorite spinnerbait of mine and the second cast, about half way through the retrieve, a 22 inch striper nailed it. I figured that the early morning light would do those blades justice and I was getting what I thought was a signal from the fish. I left the trolling motor on and continued up the shoreline and got another hammering hit from another rockfish who was evidently making his morning rounds near a duck blind. I decided to cut my losses in this area because after all, I'm not in a striped bass tournament.
I moved all the way across the bay to an area close to Aberdeen. Since I was getting hits from the spinnerbait I just stuck with it and fished it past indentations in the grass line. I ended up with 8 more frigg'n stripers on the end of my line, ranging in size; the largest at about 19 inches. That information that took me about 3 and a half hours to get put me in a decision making situation. I had to decide if I was going to move out of the area or stay put and just switch things up a bit. I could have made about a 30 minute ride into the Susquehanna or try fishing inside the grass I was already at, where I predicted the bass might be escaping the hot weather.
The beds I was near had holes scattered about in the middle of them. Another signature they carried was a drop after the edge. I felt this was a good plan and grabbed the flipp'n rod and got at it. My targets were the holes, edge and sparse grass clumps on the drop off. None of which produced a single bite on my Big Show Craw. Out of time, luck and steam, I headed back to the ramp with empty buckets. To end on an up note though, in passing a big fishing cruiser as I neared the mouth of the Sassafras; some nice looking ladies thought it necessary to flash their very beautiful tits as I rode by at 60 mph. Thank you whoever you girls are. My crap day of fishing was instantly forgotten.
I started off in this tournament with high hopes of at least bringing in a few fish. From talking to other seasoned anglers of the water, I knew about a grass bed directly across the Sassafras from Turner's Creek. I made a B line to that location and immediately started finesse fishing a tiny T rigged creature bait, focusing on the area between shoreline structure and the edge of the grass. I was getting little bites but nothing would full on take it away. I put it down and grabbed a favorite spinnerbait of mine and the second cast, about half way through the retrieve, a 22 inch striper nailed it. I figured that the early morning light would do those blades justice and I was getting what I thought was a signal from the fish. I left the trolling motor on and continued up the shoreline and got another hammering hit from another rockfish who was evidently making his morning rounds near a duck blind. I decided to cut my losses in this area because after all, I'm not in a striped bass tournament.
I moved all the way across the bay to an area close to Aberdeen. Since I was getting hits from the spinnerbait I just stuck with it and fished it past indentations in the grass line. I ended up with 8 more frigg'n stripers on the end of my line, ranging in size; the largest at about 19 inches. That information that took me about 3 and a half hours to get put me in a decision making situation. I had to decide if I was going to move out of the area or stay put and just switch things up a bit. I could have made about a 30 minute ride into the Susquehanna or try fishing inside the grass I was already at, where I predicted the bass might be escaping the hot weather.
The beds I was near had holes scattered about in the middle of them. Another signature they carried was a drop after the edge. I felt this was a good plan and grabbed the flipp'n rod and got at it. My targets were the holes, edge and sparse grass clumps on the drop off. None of which produced a single bite on my Big Show Craw. Out of time, luck and steam, I headed back to the ramp with empty buckets. To end on an up note though, in passing a big fishing cruiser as I neared the mouth of the Sassafras; some nice looking ladies thought it necessary to flash their very beautiful tits as I rode by at 60 mph. Thank you whoever you girls are. My crap day of fishing was instantly forgotten.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Tide Means Everything
You can put a price on all the tackle you buy to use on the Nanticoke river. You can price the boat you use and the license you are supposed to have. But you just can't put a price on fishing the right tide. Just last weekend I had a youth tournament there with my son. We started off just after dead low so I realized I would be fishing the incoming water all day long. Or at least until the end of the tournament. I figured an incoming tide left nothing to chance so I decided to keep the run time down to a minimum by staying within a half mile or so of the ramp. We spent a good amount of time fishing Walker's creek and picked up one for the bucket. My son caught a short fish on a drop shot rig right where I thought they would be. But nothing else. Why is that? I knew what the water was doing, the weather was predictable (stable) and you could almost guarantee that plenty of bass were located in the area. It seems like they are always plentiful in Walker's.
Regardless, there wasn't much time to boat 4 more as the water was getting higher and higher every minute. The DuPont feeder creek finally filled in to the point you could actually get in there. I told Andrew "This is where it can happen for us really quick, so stay on your feet and just keep on casting". I was wrong of course as we left without so much as a bite. In the end, he was happy to just catch that one short fish. As it turned out, nobody did exceedingly well that day with the winner bringing in 4 fish for around 5 pounds.
Add it all up and this is what you get on a crappy ass tide. The water gets high and the fish spread out up into places you can't cast to, as well as the fact that I think it turns off the bite too. These fish here live a strange life that is so dictated by the tide that thier catchability changes from night to day in the few hours it takes for the tide to change. That's why you can't put a price on when the tide is right.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Potomac Indian Giver
I know, I know. It's been many moon since you have seen an updated article and you have been tired of logging in only to find the last age old writ popping up on the page. Truth is, I have had way too much going on at work and fishing every chance I get so far this season to be worrying about blinging up this blog. But some interesting things transpired over the weekend that I want to share. But first I'll fill in the huge gap spanning since my last post.
First I'll admit that I DID in fact fish the DBFN Open at the Wicomico river. Little results were brought to the scales and only one limit showed its self. Everyone else either zeroed or had one fish in supply.
The day started out with my good friend and Bass Fury pro staff member Josh Wich picking me up at my flat at about 5am. We headed south to Salisbury, MD with good hopes rolling off our tongues left and right while his truck dragged the boat steadily down U.S. 13. Josh explained his plan in sound execution as I ate up every word. After all, just last year I saw him clean up there in a club tourney with 5 for 11.36 pounds. My thoughts were, since he knew where some good fish were, the both of us working toward the same goal could really do some serious dammage to the scales. Turned out that this was not the case. We both threw everything we had in the area he had pulled a great bag from before, only to come up with a would be limit of short fish. Then we made a run to some muddy water that did'nt make any sense to fish so we turned around and headed back. By then, the tide had gone out far enough to fit under the draw bridge in town that we could then pass under, to fish the upper stretch of the river. The entire length of the area is walled on both sides with a wooden retaining barrier with pilings placed out away from the walls every 30 feet or so. At the end of the bridge piling retainers was another piling wall with some water tucked in behind it. I just dropped my Stike King Red Eye Shad vertically down beside the piling, and out from the depths came Mr. Largemouth. That was number one. Try as we did, niether of us could hook up on another single fish. At the end of the day only one team had a limit and most everyone else had 1 or none.
The good Ol' Potomac. I jsut love this place. Miles and miles of productive water born from sound management. Our 2 day club tournament here was very important for me to do well in. This time fishing against Josh lent me the opportunity to build up some major points in the angler of the year rankings. The weight is out there, you just have to catch it.
I played my cards very carefully in preparing for this tournament. Thinking that good fish would be south I braved very high winds to fish Nanjemoy Creek a week prior and only came to the conclution that I should eliminate that location as a rpime suspect. I practiced agian the day before game time around Mallows Bay. Great place for fish to congregate due to the large wrecks lined up like a parking lot in there. Being careful of your fiberglass is rule 1 naving this area because IT IS NASTY with a capitol N. I turned up some decent action there so I figured it would be a good start. From launch, I made a B line for that bone yard and immediately began tossing the buzzbait targeting little sparse pockets of grass among thick pockets. It wasn't working. I switched to my wooly bug rigged for flipp'n and started punching the thicker areas of grass and nailed a undersize fish while reeling back in. This is where I caught on to the pattern I would use for the rest of the tournament. I put down the flipp'n rod and started trying my YUM Money Minnow swim bait in the less dense grass. I would roll it over the tops and let it drop down into the bare spots. Boom! Got one! Shorty again. This was recognizable of the day prior. It was few and far between for keepers so I decided to move on. I swung back in to Mattawoman to an old friend of mine; Grinder's Wharf. I began with the same pattern as I was using at Mallows and before long I had a good keeper. After that, it seemed to shut off. I moved out and decided to make a run up river to clearer water to one of my 'secret' spots. The tide was moving out which makes this are on fire. Any other time it's not that great. I just could not get bit here on the swim bait though. I opted for somthing a little more stationary so I pulled out the shakey head. I figured, if I'm going to pull a 4.5 or 5 pounder out today, this is where it will be. Everyone knows I like giant sized worms so I put on the 9 inch YUM Paddle Worm in black and blue; swung it under a dock. Instantly got bit... short fish. Tried again... nicer fish this time but still short. The next one might have been a keeper, but got off before I could bring him aboard. Well, I said to myself I think I should move on. I wasn't getting bit anymore and the sun started getting high in the sky. It seemed like I was getting some more agressive action in the clearer water so I decided to move up to Pomonkey Creek. I switched back to the swim bait and just started plastering the place. Before I knew it I had 2 more keepers in the boat and that's how day one ended for me. 3 fish for a little under 6 pounds. I really thought I was such an under cut at this point that I prepared myself to be in 5th or 6th to avoid disappointment. At the scales though, things turned out differently. I was leading after day one!
Okay so this could still be in my hands. I just have to come in with a limit on day 2 for sure. I knew there was no way that Josh of all the characters in my club, were going to come up shy on the second day of our tournament. I cycled over all the information I had gotten from day 1 and came to the conclution that Piscataway Creek was the place to go. Long run but I'll hack it. I spent most of the first half of the day in Piscatataway with no fish that would measure to show for it. I had this voice in my head saying 'Your'e in real trouble now Bob'. I needed to make a move. I knew of a GIGANTIC grass bed in the mouth of Little Hunting Creek that was really popular. I figured it's the only chance I've got. I stayed right on the edge where the grass stops growing and worked the swim bait. I keep getting hit but they keep coming off. Good fish too! I'm sooo frustrated at this point with the fish, not to mention the wind keeps blowing me off target. Short strikes is all kept getting. I happend to look back behind me and what do I see? There's Josh fishing the next bed out from my location. I though, no matter. At the end of the day, that would not be the case. He ended up with 5 fish weighing in around 14 pounds. All from the spot right behind me. Some guys just get lucky I guess.
First I'll admit that I DID in fact fish the DBFN Open at the Wicomico river. Little results were brought to the scales and only one limit showed its self. Everyone else either zeroed or had one fish in supply.
The day started out with my good friend and Bass Fury pro staff member Josh Wich picking me up at my flat at about 5am. We headed south to Salisbury, MD with good hopes rolling off our tongues left and right while his truck dragged the boat steadily down U.S. 13. Josh explained his plan in sound execution as I ate up every word. After all, just last year I saw him clean up there in a club tourney with 5 for 11.36 pounds. My thoughts were, since he knew where some good fish were, the both of us working toward the same goal could really do some serious dammage to the scales. Turned out that this was not the case. We both threw everything we had in the area he had pulled a great bag from before, only to come up with a would be limit of short fish. Then we made a run to some muddy water that did'nt make any sense to fish so we turned around and headed back. By then, the tide had gone out far enough to fit under the draw bridge in town that we could then pass under, to fish the upper stretch of the river. The entire length of the area is walled on both sides with a wooden retaining barrier with pilings placed out away from the walls every 30 feet or so. At the end of the bridge piling retainers was another piling wall with some water tucked in behind it. I just dropped my Stike King Red Eye Shad vertically down beside the piling, and out from the depths came Mr. Largemouth. That was number one. Try as we did, niether of us could hook up on another single fish. At the end of the day only one team had a limit and most everyone else had 1 or none.
The good Ol' Potomac. I jsut love this place. Miles and miles of productive water born from sound management. Our 2 day club tournament here was very important for me to do well in. This time fishing against Josh lent me the opportunity to build up some major points in the angler of the year rankings. The weight is out there, you just have to catch it.
I played my cards very carefully in preparing for this tournament. Thinking that good fish would be south I braved very high winds to fish Nanjemoy Creek a week prior and only came to the conclution that I should eliminate that location as a rpime suspect. I practiced agian the day before game time around Mallows Bay. Great place for fish to congregate due to the large wrecks lined up like a parking lot in there. Being careful of your fiberglass is rule 1 naving this area because IT IS NASTY with a capitol N. I turned up some decent action there so I figured it would be a good start. From launch, I made a B line for that bone yard and immediately began tossing the buzzbait targeting little sparse pockets of grass among thick pockets. It wasn't working. I switched to my wooly bug rigged for flipp'n and started punching the thicker areas of grass and nailed a undersize fish while reeling back in. This is where I caught on to the pattern I would use for the rest of the tournament. I put down the flipp'n rod and started trying my YUM Money Minnow swim bait in the less dense grass. I would roll it over the tops and let it drop down into the bare spots. Boom! Got one! Shorty again. This was recognizable of the day prior. It was few and far between for keepers so I decided to move on. I swung back in to Mattawoman to an old friend of mine; Grinder's Wharf. I began with the same pattern as I was using at Mallows and before long I had a good keeper. After that, it seemed to shut off. I moved out and decided to make a run up river to clearer water to one of my 'secret' spots. The tide was moving out which makes this are on fire. Any other time it's not that great. I just could not get bit here on the swim bait though. I opted for somthing a little more stationary so I pulled out the shakey head. I figured, if I'm going to pull a 4.5 or 5 pounder out today, this is where it will be. Everyone knows I like giant sized worms so I put on the 9 inch YUM Paddle Worm in black and blue; swung it under a dock. Instantly got bit... short fish. Tried again... nicer fish this time but still short. The next one might have been a keeper, but got off before I could bring him aboard. Well, I said to myself I think I should move on. I wasn't getting bit anymore and the sun started getting high in the sky. It seemed like I was getting some more agressive action in the clearer water so I decided to move up to Pomonkey Creek. I switched back to the swim bait and just started plastering the place. Before I knew it I had 2 more keepers in the boat and that's how day one ended for me. 3 fish for a little under 6 pounds. I really thought I was such an under cut at this point that I prepared myself to be in 5th or 6th to avoid disappointment. At the scales though, things turned out differently. I was leading after day one!
Okay so this could still be in my hands. I just have to come in with a limit on day 2 for sure. I knew there was no way that Josh of all the characters in my club, were going to come up shy on the second day of our tournament. I cycled over all the information I had gotten from day 1 and came to the conclution that Piscataway Creek was the place to go. Long run but I'll hack it. I spent most of the first half of the day in Piscatataway with no fish that would measure to show for it. I had this voice in my head saying 'Your'e in real trouble now Bob'. I needed to make a move. I knew of a GIGANTIC grass bed in the mouth of Little Hunting Creek that was really popular. I figured it's the only chance I've got. I stayed right on the edge where the grass stops growing and worked the swim bait. I keep getting hit but they keep coming off. Good fish too! I'm sooo frustrated at this point with the fish, not to mention the wind keeps blowing me off target. Short strikes is all kept getting. I happend to look back behind me and what do I see? There's Josh fishing the next bed out from my location. I though, no matter. At the end of the day, that would not be the case. He ended up with 5 fish weighing in around 14 pounds. All from the spot right behind me. Some guys just get lucky I guess.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Pleasant Surprise
The groundhog told us another 6 weeks of winter. After all that snow, this looked to be true. But here we are in early March and spring has sprung. The past week has been in the 50's and 60's with nights falling to around the mid 30's. Though that is cold, I see a trend working to the angler's favor here. That trend would be the warming type. Naysayers have told me that we'll dip back into the low 40's during the day later in the month, but I'm not buying it. This is an El Nino year and the same thing that gave us hell in the winter, will give us some bad ass fishing weather this spring and summer.
Was up at Bass Pro in Baltimore this past weekend with my dad. I could not help myself from purchasing some YUM money minnows. This off season I have been reading a lot of info on using swimbaits. Ya know; the when, where and how stuff. I have seen pretty good fish come on swimbaits and I would like to duplicate that this spring, before the spawn starts and I have to start throwing right at their faces.
I upgraded my jig arsenal by grabbing up a load of Explosive Tackle jigs in various natural and quasi natural colors. I love their Brown Shaka Brown color. It has an almost bronze glint to it that I think will make it contrast just enough with similar surrounding objects to collect a lot of attention. I had some other custom colors made that I'll be keeping secret until season's end. You can't expect me to divulge such information before I even have a chance to pound the scales with it, can you?
As I mentioned in another article about power vs. finesse fishing, I noted my lack of ability to perform the latter and how planned to remedy the shortfall. Enter Powell Rods. This west coast rod maker has already established it's self as a bass fishing mainstay in California and is peeking it's way into the Delmarva Peninsula angling public and could easily become a go-to brand all over the east coast, and for good reason. I have a sweet tooth for G Loomis rods. Understandable right? They are light and ultra ultra sensitive. They react nicely to the handler's direction so you can be precise with putting action on your lure and they are usually in the $250.00 range. Hold on, you just said $250.00! That is where G Loomis pales in comparison to Powell. The biggest number you will ever see on the price tag of a Powell rod... $170.00. And yes folks that also comes with all the cool accolades of the king Loomis. But if you like giving your money away for the sake of just a name, be my guest. But when I can feel that same hair drift past my line that you did, but at half the cost; don't whine like a biatch.
Was up at Bass Pro in Baltimore this past weekend with my dad. I could not help myself from purchasing some YUM money minnows. This off season I have been reading a lot of info on using swimbaits. Ya know; the when, where and how stuff. I have seen pretty good fish come on swimbaits and I would like to duplicate that this spring, before the spawn starts and I have to start throwing right at their faces.
I upgraded my jig arsenal by grabbing up a load of Explosive Tackle jigs in various natural and quasi natural colors. I love their Brown Shaka Brown color. It has an almost bronze glint to it that I think will make it contrast just enough with similar surrounding objects to collect a lot of attention. I had some other custom colors made that I'll be keeping secret until season's end. You can't expect me to divulge such information before I even have a chance to pound the scales with it, can you?
As I mentioned in another article about power vs. finesse fishing, I noted my lack of ability to perform the latter and how planned to remedy the shortfall. Enter Powell Rods. This west coast rod maker has already established it's self as a bass fishing mainstay in California and is peeking it's way into the Delmarva Peninsula angling public and could easily become a go-to brand all over the east coast, and for good reason. I have a sweet tooth for G Loomis rods. Understandable right? They are light and ultra ultra sensitive. They react nicely to the handler's direction so you can be precise with putting action on your lure and they are usually in the $250.00 range. Hold on, you just said $250.00! That is where G Loomis pales in comparison to Powell. The biggest number you will ever see on the price tag of a Powell rod... $170.00. And yes folks that also comes with all the cool accolades of the king Loomis. But if you like giving your money away for the sake of just a name, be my guest. But when I can feel that same hair drift past my line that you did, but at half the cost; don't whine like a biatch.
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