Thu, Nov 26 2009
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If I had caught any fish this past week ... He loses some of the bigger ones with the long and limber rod, but he lands a considerable amount of fish. That method of catching bass on the river might make a good story, if I can get them to let me go.
I got a good fishing story for my magazine recently from Claudia Mundell of Carthage, which I think folks will enjoy reading. Several ladies have sent me articles for the fall issue of the Lightnin’ Ridge Outdoor Journal, and it is not going to be easy picking a winner from them. There may be a three- or four-way tie for first place. One lady, Kathleen Young, from Lake of the Ozarks, wrote about spending a summer on the Meramec River with her grandfather when she was only 10, and she said that she has never been fishing since. Talking to her I found out she has worked in the field of high finance and marketing, which is something my magazine is sorely in need of, especially the high finance part. So she has promised to do some work for me in return for a float trip for her own 10-year-old daughter, Gabriella. We took an afternoon float last week and the little girl was scared to death of the trip until we got started, not realizing that in the hands of a grizzled old veteran riverman like me, her chance getting dumped in the river was almost non-existent. She was hoping to see some wildlife, and did. We floated right up on a muskrat, and she took a picture of it only a few feet away. She also collected tadpoles and frogs and crawdads and rocks. I hadn’t looked forward to taking a 10-year-old on a float trip until I got there, and the little girl, who was so fascinated and excited with everything, made me enjoy the trip, even though the fishing was poor. A really unusual thing happened on the trip, as her mother, who hadn’t caught a bass in her entire life, fished hard for an hour with a topwater jerkbait I gave her and couldn’t get a strike. She had purchased a good spin-casting rod and reel and was doing a good job with it, putting the lure in the right places and working it efficiently. But the bass wouldn’t cooperate, and she hadn’t had a strike. Finally she got the lure hung along a rocky bank and I paddled her over to retrieve it. When it came loose, she just dropped the lure beside the boat only a foot or so from the bank, to reel in slack line, and a two-pound bass came up and jumped all over it. What excitement she had then. That, along with Uncle Norten’s experiences lately, are making me rethink the way I fish the river. 
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