By Silas Gray
sports@joplinglobe.com
Just two hours earlier, I’d been sitting at my desk, trying to finish some work.
However, I’d spent most of the time just staring out the window. The thermometer mounted just outside read 61 degrees. It was still wintertime, and it had been quite cold for the past several days, hence my preoccupation with the nice weather.
Sometimes I think that it’s a mistake to have my computer so close to the window, especially the closer it gets to spring.
I’d finally given up and was standing on the pond bank slowly retrieving a seven-inch plastic worm. With the weeds and moss still dormant, fishing from the bank was much easier than it would be later on when the vegetation began to grow. After that, I’d need a boat to reach open water.
I had cast my line far out into the deeper portion of the pond and was watching for any sort of movement. It was February, and with the water still quite cold I knew the black bass would be slow and deep.
I was distracted for just a moment as I looked around and was thinking of how much the trees had recovered from last year’s ice storm damage.
When I looked again, I didn’t see my line. When I finally found it, it had already moved several feet up the bank and had now began to angle back toward me. I reeled quickly to try and remove the yards of slack which had formed in my line during my mental absence. The line finally felt solid, and I pulled back on the fish.
I’ve always heard about bass being slow and lethargic when the water’s this cold, but this fish didn’t seem to know about that. It headed toward the middle of the pond and began pulling line from my reel. I felt some slack and it soon broke the surface — a very nice-sized largemouth bass.
However, with so little cover and no lily pads to hide in this time of year, the tug-of-war was over quickly, and I soon had the bass by the lip. Judging by the light color, it was still spending its time in the deep water and hadn’t moved up into the shallows. The bass agreed with the calendar — spring had not yet arrived.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon working my way around the edges of the pond while crawling plastic worms, grubs and jigs as slowly as I could across the bottom. I’d start as far out as I could cast, and it would take several minutes before the lure would appear in the shallow water near my feet.
I caught one more very nice largemouth and two smaller bass during that time. Each of those came from the windy side of the pond. These fish came in easily and were also quite cold. I didn’t get a single bump while covering the rest of the shoreline. Bass tend to congregate on the windy banks where they feed on the baitfish that have followed their food as it’s blown in toward the shore.
Even though the trees were bare I could see little buds forming, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I’d be back again with my kayak. I’d be out on the pond slipping over the pads and casting toward open spots, eager for the next big bass to leap through the surface and swallow my topwater lure.
The sun was already down with only its glow remaining as I turned onto the highway and headed back toward town — confident that tomorrow I’d knuckle down and get back to work.
Unfortunately, the next day’s forecast for another warm and sunny day had me concerned about my productivity.
Perhaps I’d better close the blinds and move that thermometer — just to be safe.
