Early Season Bassin'

The Michigan Legislature just enacted year-round Catch and Immediate Release (CIR) bass fishing in waters not otherwise closed to fishing.  This immediately provided for a productive alternative on a windy, but otherwise beautiful day.  Instead of the planned brown trout excursion for the afternoon, we stayed inland and went bass fishing, which is a pretty novel experience for me here in Michigan in April!

This day also happened to be the 80th anniversary of my Dad's birth.  He passed quite a while ago, so we've not fished together in quite some time.  But he recognized my interest in fishing and provided for my needs to do so; and there's a thread that winds itself through my youth to this day's fine bass.

Nice, early season bass!

I've long associated my Dad's birthday with fishing.  There was the gift of an Abu Garcia/Mitchell 300 combo (although this might have been a Father's Day gift; forgive me, I was very young.)  This combo sat in a corner, pretty much unused until that August morning when we started fishing together; always for bass, always with shiners.  I further remember several Birthday Evening excursions to Twin Rivers or Abbott's Run.  I don't remember catching much during those trips, but I do remember that we went.

Thirty-five years ago my fishing horizons expanded with the spring arrival of his Bass Tracker III, and we took this rig out for the first time on April 18, 1980.  It was a weekday; I was on Spring Break from high school and he took the day off from work.  We went to Stafford's Pond, our only Rhode Island option for smallmouth bass.  Wind and cold water were factors on that day, too, and our first hint of success came when I saw a sizable brown bass cruising in the shallows.  That helped us concentrate our efforts, and it wasn't too much later when I felt a sudden weight on my Norman Deep Little N (in Tennessee Shad color.)  The drag slipped when I set the hook (an unusual occurrence for me at that stage of my life), and fortunately the boat drifted out over deeper water where I could wear out the fish on my 4-pound test line.  Eventually I lipped the biggest bass of my life (at the time.)  Into the live well she went; she was certified at 3 pounds 12 ounces and mounted for display at our local tackle shop.  She was, after all, only a few ounces shy of the RI state record at the time; and she was the biggest smallie I ever caught in Rhode Island.

A memorable fish and a memorable Birthday for my Dad, I'm sure.  But fast forward exactly 35 years: I'm confronted with very similar conditions.  I've been distracted from bass during much of my time in Michigan, based on seasons and other opportunities, but this day's mission was bass.  I easily fell back on my early season Rhode Island experience (there is very little early season Michigan experience to fall back on, after all.)  The bass above fell to a crank bait digging through the warmest shallows we could find.

Things worked out well this day. I did my best; I had some success.  I wasn't with my Dad, but I know he's always with me.  Instead, I was with a good friend.  We both love fishing, and we both have many others to thank for accommodating these passions.