My walking the dog bait (I wish I knew its name.) was perfect for the circumstances. With the river being so shallow, the bass were easy to spook even with my stealthy canoe. So, I needed the longest possible casts and with so many bass tucked under the weeds lining the river channel, I needed a big, noisy lure to pique their curiosity and draw them out. You know those lines in the water that shallow bass moving quickly create? Once, I saw two bass going for my lure, one from each side. You could take every bass I've ever caught walking the dog before today and that number would be smaller than the ones I caught this morning. And I hooked so many from far, far away, but my fiberglass rod and 30 lb. braided line were up to the task.
I wonder how many of you would want to do what I did this morning. It was uncomfortable at times and I'm still hurting from the effort several hours later. To launch the canoe, I had to carefully descend a slope with the canoe over my head. The slope started off with bowling ball-sized rocks and then became slippery mud.
The water was cold enough to kill me, so tipping could be lethal and if I tipped, no one was there to help me. Plus, my lightweight canoe tips VERY easily. I entered the canoe with mud caked on my boots, so the water that always comes into my canoe became brown from the mud. Several times, I lost the river channel in the foggy dark and ended up stuck on a muddy flat.
I paddled several miles both ways and coming back, I had a 9 mph headwind. The bigger bass had bigger teeth and even though I wore my normal gloves with no fingertips, my fingertips hurt now from all the little lacerations and a couple are swollen and red.
I enjoy the challenges, but I note that in such places, I'm nearly always alone, suggesting others don't. I'm 68 and have a few more years of doing such trips, but I feel the day coming when I'll have to walk an easier road. When I exited my canoe at the end of my trip, I carefully moved from my canoe to the slippery bank, staying low, but when I tried to stand, I fell on my can...because I was that stiff. I had to muster my remaining strength to actually stand.
Say, look at this 19.25-incher I caught yesterday morning and contrast her frame with the 18.5 and 19-inchers I caught this morning: