That Yellow Plug

I shared  a story with a co-worker friend a while back, and he asked if it were from Numenon.  This story made an early, brief appearance (August 2012; "Too Weird to Believe"), but since I just ran across this lure while cleaning up fishing stuff in the basement, here's a bit more.

***

In the summer of 1982, I was fishing an unfamiliar but locally famous New Hampshire smallmouth lake, in what appeared to be a super-prime spot.  It offered wood, rocks, depth and overhead cover, i.e. everything a predator could want; and I expected very good things.  I had multiple choices, but inexplicably I just knew what to do.  I  chose to burn a particular yellow crank bait (with which I'd never before caught a bass) and bang it (hard!) against the rock and wood.  On the cast in question, just as the bait touched the cover, I thought I detected a strike.  I swung and missed; my line went slack and my crank was gone.  It all happened so fast, and I was banging bottom so hard, that I started to question whether I had actually had a strike, or if I had simply overburned, overreacted and broken off in the cover.  

I didn’t have to wonder for too long, though, as my partner and I could see my yellow crank moving slowly through the clear water.  As the bait moved closer, a giant bass (the source of the lure's ghostly locomotion) materialized directly under the boat.   My yellow plug was planted in her face.   It had been a strike.  Then, in plain view, she deliberately yawned and 
shook her head; my lure floated to the surface within arm’s reach of the boat.  She 
disappeared; I retrieved my plug; and the rest of the trip's fishing was uneventful at best.  (I do, however,  vividly remember the shared night-time terror of having a skunk in the tent.)  I never took another bass from this location; and I’ve never been able to use this particular lure again.

That Yellow Plug

There are multiple elements of strangeness to this tale.  The strangeness here is that I was fishing as if possessed, with a new lure, location and technique, and yet with utter confidence.  I saw the entire sequence; and it was by far the biggest bass I’ve ever seen or may ever see.  She appeared to swim directly into our view, and she returned my plug.  This was a largemouth bass, too, generally unexpected on this lake at this time.  She was an outlier among outliers, dominating perhaps the bassiest spot I have ever found.  She was a 6-Sigma fish, and I may never have the privilege of encountering her equal.  

But most curiously, I’ve been somehow unable to use this plug since.*** Fishing is strange.  It provides a steady stream of surprise for those who might notice.  But the mind is even stranger.  We all know this.  Not all are willing to admit it, though.

*** Actually, I think I might give her a chance this year.  I am going to change those hooks out, however.