That was all I needed to be able to fish dozens of farm ponds and creeks. I hauled the boat around in the back of the truck. If I could get anywhere near the water I could drag the boat out by myself and be fishing in five minutes.
I fished some good ponds and then I fished a few really great ponds. However, there was one particular 4-acre pond that I had really deep feelings for. It was an old pond, maybe 20 or 25 years old when I was fishing it. I knew that a pond that old surely had a few really big fish in it, but it was just a matter of having the right time and the right bait before I hooked one.
I had caught plenty of 3 and 4-pound bass from this lake, but old big boy was a wise old bass and I knew he was going to be tough to catch. I bought a new bass lure called a rapala. I had heard of many big bass being caught on this bait so I bought one and headed for my favorite lake. It was about 2 p.m. and I was fishing around the shallow end of the lake. I had managed to get a tangle in my fishing reel and I had to perform surgery on it while my new fishing lure floated motionless in the water.
Suddenly, there was a huge splash about 20 yards from my boat and a violent jerk on my rod. I knew this was my first meeting with old big boy. My reel was tangled and there was nothing I could do. A couple of swipes with that huge tail and the hooks on that new lure were completely straightened. I did get a quick look at the fish and it was big…really big. I knew there had to be a big fish in that lake, but it was going to be tough to catch him.
As I fished around the lake I knew where I was about to get a bite. I caught plenty of nice bass over the next few months, but there was no sign of old big boy. Then one day the wind was about to blow me out on the bank, so I decided to paddle across the lake and try to avoid some of the wind. I just let my lure drag along behind the boat as I crossed the lake. Suddenly, my rod took off toward the back of the boat and I just barely caught it. When the line got tight this huge fish head came out of the water with a mouth bigger than a softball. Two more jumps and the hooks came flying out of his mouth. There was no doubt it was big boy again.
It was over a year before I saw that clever rascal again. I thought something might have happened to him. I had just discovered girls and bought a car (still had my truck). My little brother Gary offered to wash my car if I would take him fishing. Sounded good to me so we struck a deal. I didn’t take my boat; we just fished off the bank.
Midway around the lake the water got shallow and grass and moss ran 30 yards out into the lake.
I had to make a long cast toward the middle of the lake and reel it back through the moss and grass. There was an old man fishing for bream near the moss bed and we were talking about fishing and old big boy. Suddenly there was a violent jerk on my line and out of the water came old big boy. This time he came charging straight at me and right through the weed bed. Soon I had this huge bass rolled up in 20 pounds of moss on the end of my line.
I could not move the fish or the moss. The old man jumped up and waded out waist deep in the water and scooped the fish up, grass and all. He brought the giant bass back and laid it at my feet.
Finally, the challenge was over. The bass weighed 8 ½ pounds. It took several years, but I finally won. Two months after catching the bass the pond owners drained the lake and made more pasture land out of it. They put a net across the drain and when the pond was dry, the largest bass in the net only weighed 4 pounds, so I guess I did catch the biggest bass in the lake.
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