For those of you that don't know East Texas is known for its monster large mouth bass with lakes like Lake Fork and many more pumping out records that are hard to beat. Add to that the exceptional fishing for all sorts of species and you don't have to try to hard to imagine why its where I wanted to be. I was smack dab in the middle of it all and itching to try some of the flies I had tied in the months waiting for the house to sell back in California.
I remember I could see the lights of my sisters front porch from across the black top road. I was standing on the bank of a small pond that was no bigger than a tennis court. A first fishing trip arranged by a brother-n-law who was now setting on his tailgate watching the casts I was making as they reached out into the middle of this small tank. I had tied on a frog pattern to a 7x tippet. My 6 weight rod had no problem reaching across the pond... I was really just casting to be casting and the day was quickly turning into night.
A few mosquito bites later I heard a loud splash and looked over at the truck where my brother-n-law was setting. I thought he had thrown an empty beer bottle into the water. maybe he was getting bored with my double haul technique...I was wrong. The splash from a nice bass had sent ripples across the surface and my eyes quickly moved from the pointing redneck to the scene of the splash.
Again. A large bass hit something hard. Water sprayed and lily pads bounced...and the rest of a warm bottle of beer disappeared down my only witness to what happened next..
Behind me was whole row of trees that had grown behind the damn of this pond. The farmers was obviously not as brave on a slope with his tractor as I would have been I mused. I would have to do a roll cast.
I raised my rod to 12 o'clock and with my best 'whomp' ever I sent the line and 'Kermit the frog' sailing right towards that bass. Seconds later it was all over and the fly was laying broken,severed from my line and missing one eye at my feet. The redneck laughed. And another beer top twisted off...pssssttt.
I guess at this point I felt that I was really fishing for two people. Myself and Jim Henson. I mean really what kind of monster would do that to Kermit?...ok. I just wanted to land that f %*$@er so I wouldn't have to move to another state to get away from the "bathtub sized pond and the bass that ate my Muppet" story that was brewing along with about 2 percent blood alcohol level across the pond. I heard a few words from across the pond(ignored them) as I finished my clinch knot that secured Kermit to my leader. I had removed the 7x and was running about 12 pound test on a 3 foot leader now.
The cast was the same as before. It rolled over nicely and landed in the water with a loud plop!!. I watched intently as the rings spread out from my fly. I waited. We waited. a dog barked in the distance. The world turned a little. a star twinkled....and that f$**#!ing fish just looked at my fly and waited.
Then a full two seconds into one of the most fierce strikes I have ever seen I became aware of that bass hitting Kermit like he was straight out of hell and Kermit was the last thing he would ever eat. Water showered the bank and that familiar sound of bass cartilage rattling back and forth faster than the eye could see echoed across the pasture.
I had him. He was not going anywhere. except towards me. with a strip...strip...strip strip strip.
I actually heard a whooo hoo!! as I held up the 3 pounder. I had held many fish before that one and have held many more after. But that was one...that one I will never forget... It was my first night back in Texas right a dark thirty and for a few minutes I was 'The man".
Time has passed and a lot has changed. Wife number two has come along,I had another long trip I call my own trail of tears...But that pond is still there. Across from some people I don't know...in a pasture that I will never visit again.
Now I live in Utah. And I am looking for Bass...me and Kermit.
