I was sitting cross-legged in the back seat of the truck, my face pressed to the glass, eyes wandering across the endless sea of oil derricks spread across the red soil of Oklahoma. The long trip home after a big bass tournament provides an angler with a much-awaited opportunity to relax and enjoy the fun after a successful derby. Or, if you’ve had a bad week, it could be a pretty brutal trip. Your mind is filled with all the defeats; All the pain of mistakes made and opportunities missed.
On this particular November morning each mile on I-35 was hard work as I replayed each stage of the tournament in my mind. I hadn’t caught a single fish and was on the verge of a meltdown. I wanted to sell all my fishing gear so that I would never have to endure such humiliation again.
I think about that tournament often, because it shaped me into the fisherman I am today. This was my first national level event after spending a successful year fishing the local circuit. I strolled into Lake Fork, Texas, full of confidence, but I was served a big slice of humble pie by seasoned professionals who had made bass fishing their livelihood.
After a period of mourning, a fire flared up inside me. I was full of both determination and passion and wanted to succeed in this sport. I knew I had to spend more time on the water. I also knew that there would be a price to pay for this. To be successful in anything you have to make sacrifices.
I traveled all over the country, fishing in national tournaments against the best players in our sport, on bodies of water I’d only read about. bassmaster magazine. I scoured Google Earth and Navionics for months in advance, taking note of every nuance of the lakes I was fishing. I will go back and look at old maps and locate brush piles, laydowns, changes in bank structure, old ponds and ditches. Back at camp, I would flip a jig into a cup until my arms hurt. No one was going to prepare me better.
I performed consistently well at the Kayak Fishing National Trials my first year, but 2019 would be my break-through season with three wins and multiple top five and top 10 finishes. It was the result of hard work and perseverance, and the time spent honing my craft on the water made me a better tournament angler, as well as one of the most remarkable mornings of my career to date.
biggest bass of my life
The biggest bass of my life! (two PBS broken)
I completed a tournament on Lake Seminole in early February and took a two-week break before the next stop. So, I headed to South Florida with a friend after hearing rumors of good bass fishing, an area I had only fished a few times. We had three days and a new moon, so it was a perfect fit before heading to Texas for the next tournament.
It was hot and muggy as we rigged chatter baits, flippin jigs and creature baits in the parking lot of the public boat launch. There were trucks parked everywhere—many fishermen must have heard the same rumors we did. The South Florida lakes we fished were relatively shallow, and had a series of ditches and canals with abundant vegetation. The beginning of February meant the bass were in all stages of spawning, and as I stood I noticed several empty beds and slowly moved my kayak back into a small creek. As predicted, the afternoon was tough, but the last half hour of light to end the evening yielded several largemouth, including a six-pounder.
The next day we decided to go fishing in another nearby lake and were relieved to see some trucks in the parking lot. This lake was very large, so I spent a few hours on Google Earth the night before exploring potential areas. Since I saw a lot of empty beds, I decided to try targeting fish in transition areas. This led me to focus on an area where a road crossed a canal – a highway that also had a slightly higher water depth.
trapping a giant
It was a calm morning when my kayak got cut by hydrilla and fell into the canal. The depth decreased to about 10 feet and the amount of vegetation below increased significantly. I scanned the side of the road and saw a school of bass on my side scan. I changed the position of the kayak, took my grip 72HM Legend Glass Rod And threw a jackhammer On the school side, let it fall slowly before breaking it down and reshaping it. After some ripping, I hooked a 2-pounder, and then a 4, another 2, and several others before putting the bladed jig down and reaching for a Texas-rigged 4-inch creature bait, which consisted of a 4/0 EWG hook and a 1/2-ounce pegged tungsten bullet weight.
I first used this particular technique during a tournament on Chickamauga Lake. I found a channel hammock in about 9 feet of water, filled with sparse grass and large fish. I tried several different things before swimming this bait through heavy cover, and I killed it as soon as I felt it come out of the grass. Thanks to the weedless T rig I was able to get down into the grass, cover water and catch the fish without getting hung up. I eventually bested an area of 126 angler, and continued to rotate that technique regularly when fishing around deep grass.
Since this Florida lake bore some similarities to Chickamauga, I picked up my confident bait and cast it parallel to the edge of the road. I let the bait hit the bottom before starting a slow retrieve. I pulsed it through the first patch of grass, causing the bait to fall as soon as I felt it break free. It is important to maintain contact with your bait. Many times these big fishes collide with it when it falls. As soon as I made cover, I started catching some small fish… by 9:30 am
I was slowly swimming the bait towards that creature, keeping it towards the bottom, when I felt that a fish was picking it up. I tried to set the hook, but the fish missed. So I started moving in faster, then killed her, then took more in, stopped, took more in, and not even for a second, I could feel my weight. So I instinctively set the hook hard and despite applying tremendous force my rod stopped about halfway up.
“huge!” I screamed. I didn’t need to see this fish to know that it was easily the best bass I’ve hooked in a long time. The drag on my line had reduced, but this fish was still managing to pull in such a way that I began to question the integrity of my 17-pound fluorocarbon. The kayak shifted side to side at the mercy of the fish at the end of my line. At this point I could just wait.
My nerves were on high alert as I began applying downward pressure on the rod, trying to keep the bass from breaking. I saw a flash of color a few inches below the surface and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. My personal best largemouth up to that point was a 23.5-inch 7.5-pounder out of Lake Fork, and I knew this fish would shatter it.
The next few moments were crucial. I needed to make sure I was maintaining pressure and getting the right amount of line out before reaching my net and sailing into this bass. As the fish began to break apart again, it revealed a basketball-sized mouth and two golf ball-sized eyes. I was coming without a hook and I had to bring his bass in my kayak.
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The fish escaped the net in the very first attempt, I made a quick effort and eventually trapped it. As soon as she fell into the net, a wave of emotions came over me. I was in the front row at his favorite boy-band concert as a teenage girl. With both hands shaking, I reached into the net and pulled out a short-lived personal best, a 25.75-inch, 11.65-pound real Florida bass.
After a few quick photos and measurements, I released him safely back into the water to make another fisherman’s dream come true. When she swam away I was on cloud nine, little did I know that my day would get better. Using my side scan on fixed grass lines, I broke that personal best just a few hours later with a 26-inch 11.8-pound bass on the same bait.
It was the culmination of using both what I had learned in all the years of chasing trophy bass, and the confidence I had gained on the tournament trails. My best five fish that day weighed only 45 pounds, an accomplishment only achieved through countless hours of preparation and a lot of time on the water.
That day helped strengthen my decision to keep going forward even after failing so miserably. As an angler, you’ll experience a fair amount of frustration, whether you’re fishing on a national tour or in a local derby. Just remember, persistence is always rewarded.
