Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Lots of fond memories on the Green. When the sun hits them sheer granite walls-- awesome.. Nothin better than throwin them big drys during a cicada hatch. Looks like you were in the A section- the hatchery. Lots of educated fishes there and looks like you figured it out.
We would float the dam and camp in the B at Jackson Creek for 3-4 days walking the banks on the south shore. April/May was always good. Later in the fall the C section was hot for spawning browns from Taylor flats to the canyon--Nice mellow 4mi float throwin streamers on the banks from float tubes and very little pressure.
Thanks for giving me the itch to get back. Great pics and report for sure.. Cheers
We would float the dam and camp in the B at Jackson Creek for 3-4 days walking the banks on the south shore. April/May was always good. Later in the fall the C section was hot for spawning browns from Taylor flats to the canyon--Nice mellow 4mi float throwin streamers on the banks from float tubes and very little pressure.
Thanks for giving me the itch to get back. Great pics and report for sure.. Cheers
- Cuervo Jones
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Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Imaoldmanyoungst,
Thank you for your inquiry regarding the position of Cuervo-shadower. There is not currently an opening for that role, but should circumstances change, we will notify you immediately. Until then, we wish you the best in your fishing pursuits and hope that you’ll keep reading the Cuervo Chronicles,
With best regards,
The management.
And yes, flydoc, all you say is true. Several of the anglers I spoke to on the trail had failed to catch any of the edumacated fishes. I showed them my rigs and explained how to fish them. I know not how they did. I was happy to see 2 young ladies among the ranks of fly flingers. One saw me and clutched her pepper spray while running to the hills. The other stopped to chat pleasantly before moving on. Alas, she was fishless. And if not for Mrs. Cuervo, I would gladly have offered to “shadow” her for the day to help her out. Blonde hippie chicks in sports bras with fly gear just...I mean...like...come ON. WHERE were they when I was single?!
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Thank you for your inquiry regarding the position of Cuervo-shadower. There is not currently an opening for that role, but should circumstances change, we will notify you immediately. Until then, we wish you the best in your fishing pursuits and hope that you’ll keep reading the Cuervo Chronicles,
With best regards,
The management.
And yes, flydoc, all you say is true. Several of the anglers I spoke to on the trail had failed to catch any of the edumacated fishes. I showed them my rigs and explained how to fish them. I know not how they did. I was happy to see 2 young ladies among the ranks of fly flingers. One saw me and clutched her pepper spray while running to the hills. The other stopped to chat pleasantly before moving on. Alas, she was fishless. And if not for Mrs. Cuervo, I would gladly have offered to “shadow” her for the day to help her out. Blonde hippie chicks in sports bras with fly gear just...I mean...like...come ON. WHERE were they when I was single?!
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Re: RE: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Well I'll just have to keep living your adventures thru the Cuervo Chronicles then. After all, they are so good I sometimes feel like I'm there!Cuervo Jones wrote:Imaoldmanyoungst,
Thank you for your inquiry regarding the position of Cuervo-shadower. There is not currently an opening for that role, but should circumstances change, we will notify you immediately. Until then, we wish you the best in your fishing pursuits and hope that you’ll keep reading the Cuervo Chronicles,
With best regards,
The management.
And yes, flydoc, all you say is true. Several of the anglers I spoke to on the trail had failed to catch any of the edumacated fishes. I showed them my rigs and explained how to fish them. I know not how they did. I was happy to see 2 young ladies among the ranks of fly flingers. One saw me and clutched her pepper spray while running to the hills. The other stopped to chat pleasantly before moving on. Alas, she was fishless. And if not for Mrs. Cuervo, I would gladly have offered to “shadow” her for the day to help her out. Blonde hippie chicks in sports bras with fly gear just...I mean...like...come ON. WHERE were they when I was single?!
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PS - I will consider wearing a blonde wig n sports bra if it will change your mind???
..............
(I guess thats a definite NO now, huh?)
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Awesome looking place. Where is that, Colorado??
Looks like you had a lot of fun and thanks for taking us all on your adventures. Fly rod sounds like a lot of fun (and frustration too lol).
Looks like you had a lot of fun and thanks for taking us all on your adventures. Fly rod sounds like a lot of fun (and frustration too lol).
- Cuervo Jones
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
This was Utah. And I’m trying to add yet another action-packed, fish catching, sight-seeing, rock-licking adventure, but crapatalk has updated itself again. It’s gaining sentience like SkyNet! And it won’t let me post photos. Be afraid my friends. The machines are beginning to rise! Terminators are just around the corner. In fact, it’s possible they’re already among us! Dogs hate them, so if a dog goes bananas around somebody, runaway! They’re probably a merciless killing machine that can’t be reasoned with. Can’t be bargained with. It doesn’t feel pity or remorse! Every man for himself I tells ya. I am depressed now. I need to lie down.
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
What’s this?!
The machines have been repelled for now!! I managed to infiltrate their lair and circumvent their evil plot. You’re welcome, TKF.
I landed in Utah this week to be greeted by a sight that would make any Houstonian feel at home.
Continuing on, I narrowly escaped one of the gigantic Jurassic roadrunners they have here.
A brush with death like that makes any man rethink his place in the food chain and the universe. So I headed to a retreat in the hills to ponder these and other expansive topics.
All was going well and my brain was absorbing all sorts of funky waves from the surrounding natural splendor. Why does it have to be so damned hot and gross in Texas all summer?! At least there’s spots like this in the world to escape to!
The next morning I grabbed what fishing gear I had after a quick cup of go-juice.
Sorry TKF, no kayak this time. Again.
There were all sorts of natural wonders to behold.
And yes. There were fish too! I know it wouldn’t be a fishing report without them, you savages. None were killed. All were given participation trophies and words of encouragement before being sent on their merry way to eat lots of smaller creatures.
They were eating these:
And those were attacking my finger out of anger and hostility.
Go barbless, bromandude. You’ll be happy you did.
I was eating these:
Now the trip is over. I’m hitchhiking back to the swamps of Texas. But I have my memories and photos of this place to keep me sane.
Until next time, screaming reels and bloody thumbs to all! Unless you’re a politician. In which case, never put your vile and corrupt eyeballs upon my posts. You’re not worthy. In fact. Kindly leave my planet on Elon Musk’s dodgy spaceship ASAP.
Your pal,
Cuervo Jones
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The machines have been repelled for now!! I managed to infiltrate their lair and circumvent their evil plot. You’re welcome, TKF.
I landed in Utah this week to be greeted by a sight that would make any Houstonian feel at home.
Continuing on, I narrowly escaped one of the gigantic Jurassic roadrunners they have here.
A brush with death like that makes any man rethink his place in the food chain and the universe. So I headed to a retreat in the hills to ponder these and other expansive topics.
All was going well and my brain was absorbing all sorts of funky waves from the surrounding natural splendor. Why does it have to be so damned hot and gross in Texas all summer?! At least there’s spots like this in the world to escape to!
The next morning I grabbed what fishing gear I had after a quick cup of go-juice.
Sorry TKF, no kayak this time. Again.
There were all sorts of natural wonders to behold.
And yes. There were fish too! I know it wouldn’t be a fishing report without them, you savages. None were killed. All were given participation trophies and words of encouragement before being sent on their merry way to eat lots of smaller creatures.
They were eating these:
And those were attacking my finger out of anger and hostility.
Go barbless, bromandude. You’ll be happy you did.
I was eating these:
Now the trip is over. I’m hitchhiking back to the swamps of Texas. But I have my memories and photos of this place to keep me sane.
Until next time, screaming reels and bloody thumbs to all! Unless you’re a politician. In which case, never put your vile and corrupt eyeballs upon my posts. You’re not worthy. In fact. Kindly leave my planet on Elon Musk’s dodgy spaceship ASAP.
Your pal,
Cuervo Jones
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Those are some nice toothless specs!
Thanks for the report!
Thanks for the report!
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Is this the Green River in Utah?
A couple of buddies and I fished it in early May out of a drift boat and had a blast. The amount of fish in that river is just insane. Wish I could go back sometime in July to throw some big dry flies but life is getting in the way of that...
A couple of buddies and I fished it in early May out of a drift boat and had a blast. The amount of fish in that river is just insane. Wish I could go back sometime in July to throw some big dry flies but life is getting in the way of that...
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Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Yeah. It’s been a weird year. Lots of travel. Not much angling. Angst and dread abound. But I hope the cooler days and nights of autumn summon my courage to face the perils of the marsh witches again soon. Salty water hasn’t splashed into my face for months. It’s getting depressing. Here’s a bit of where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing lo these months.
I like getting lost in the big, wide open spaces and it makes it easier for aliens to find me in case they want to visit and learn about Earth. NO probing, please, thank you.
Well...maybe a LITTLE probing would be ok. Just don’t tell Mrs. Cuervo!
I came back to Houston-ish to learn than sexbots are a thing now and a robot brothel is opening up in town?!
I don’t know what to say about this. If a sexbot comes kayaking to the marsh, her circuits would fry in the salty water. I guess that means they’d only be good for companionship in freshwater excursions. Speaking of which, I’m thinking of hitting my favorite bassing lake soon. Here’s where I caught my first ever largemouth centuries ago. It was on a chartreuse spinnerbait.
I miss my bass friends. Trouts are fun too though. I’m just not a one fish man. Don’t judge me!
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I like getting lost in the big, wide open spaces and it makes it easier for aliens to find me in case they want to visit and learn about Earth. NO probing, please, thank you.
Well...maybe a LITTLE probing would be ok. Just don’t tell Mrs. Cuervo!
I came back to Houston-ish to learn than sexbots are a thing now and a robot brothel is opening up in town?!
I don’t know what to say about this. If a sexbot comes kayaking to the marsh, her circuits would fry in the salty water. I guess that means they’d only be good for companionship in freshwater excursions. Speaking of which, I’m thinking of hitting my favorite bassing lake soon. Here’s where I caught my first ever largemouth centuries ago. It was on a chartreuse spinnerbait.
I miss my bass friends. Trouts are fun too though. I’m just not a one fish man. Don’t judge me!
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Last edited by Cuervo Jones on Wed Oct 03, 2018 11:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
I, too, might be hitting your favorite bassin' lake soon. I was able to pick up my PB there this summer trolling some deep diving cranks in 19-28 feet of water. That day, my fishfinder said the water temperature was 98 degrees - I don't believe it, but it was 103 degrees when I launched at 3 pm.
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
That surface water gets hot for sure. Drives the basses down to the cool, refreshing waters of the depths. There, they’re suckers for deep diving cranks. Like Mikey and a bowl of Life cereal.
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- Cuervo Jones
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Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Oh! Hi there! Good to see your eyeballs on this fishing blog again. Much like Batman comes out of retirement to save Gotham from weirdo criminals when needed, I have returned from my mysterious absence to once again strike fear into the hearts of fishes across Texas. Today’s installment finds me, Cuervo Jones chansin’ bass on my favorite ever bass lake. Last month I was visiting the first place I ever caught a bass. It’s changed a lot. As in...where the devil did all the water go?! Astonishingly, I still saw some bass and bluegill patrolling the shallows.
Getting back to Texas, I had to TCB (Take Care of Business) before I could FISH (Fling Irresistible Stuff with Hooks) for some BASS (Big And Sexy Swimmers) at my local lake. Today was the day! In my rush, I forgot to bring the following:
Pliers
Digital scale (in case I catch a lunker)
Net
Clippers
Working sonar unit (the fuse is blown).
No doubt, the work of the Halloween spooky ghosts and evil spirits. Should I turn back? Hide under my bed until Halloween is over? Start sacrificing virgins to appease the gods?
NO. I am a poorly edumacated, overweight, American man. The most powerful being on the planet. Boldly, I heaved my bulk into the waiting kayak and bellowed my intentions of angling conquest to the basses.
Without a sonar unit to distract me, I was able to watch the birds like sand hill cranes, osprey, bald eagle, bluebirds, coots, and all sorts of other types. Fortunately, I know where the creek channels are, so even without my electronics, I fancied my chances at catching bass as pretty good. There were a few other kayaks and boats out but I didn’t see them catch much. Which is weird because these things were all over the joint.
See that shad colored crankbait? Nice, isn’t it? The bass liked it too.
But they liked crawfish more.
Proof!
One more ate the shad though.
Still nice looking, right?
Lunch time found me stuffing these down my throat.
A guy in a hobie pulled up real close to tell me how bad the fishing was and asked if I was fishing tomorrow. I guess there’s maybe a tournament. I quickly urinated all over myself as a defense mechanism to distract him and skeedaddled so I wouldn’t have to suffer any further social interaction.
I kept fishing my crankbaits, catching lots of fat, 18-19” bass and feeling pretty good. I should have known better! That’s when evil struck!!! A big, monster bass ate my beautiful shad crank and jumped and fought and pulled line. I pulled back bound and determined to land it. But she was just as bound and determined to keep the beautiful, custom painted by me bait.
Like my dad used to always tell me: “Don’t make it look too nice, or someone will steal it!” And how! Only evil forces could possibly break the unbreakable bill of such a mighty lure. Spooky!
Figuring it was time for a change anyway, I decided to throw a Carolina rig and caught a couple of these.
All the while, I kept nervously looking over my shoulder. The lake was pretty much empty after 2:00. I was alone and getting all nervous-like. Evil loves it when you’re alone. Tired and not wanting to give evil any more chances to mess with my bassin’, I decided to call it a day and head home.
This ain’t the report you need. It it’s the report you DESERVE, TKF. Now I away into the mysterious abyss of the interwebs until next time. Happy tricks and treatings, TKF!
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Getting back to Texas, I had to TCB (Take Care of Business) before I could FISH (Fling Irresistible Stuff with Hooks) for some BASS (Big And Sexy Swimmers) at my local lake. Today was the day! In my rush, I forgot to bring the following:
Pliers
Digital scale (in case I catch a lunker)
Net
Clippers
Working sonar unit (the fuse is blown).
No doubt, the work of the Halloween spooky ghosts and evil spirits. Should I turn back? Hide under my bed until Halloween is over? Start sacrificing virgins to appease the gods?
NO. I am a poorly edumacated, overweight, American man. The most powerful being on the planet. Boldly, I heaved my bulk into the waiting kayak and bellowed my intentions of angling conquest to the basses.
Without a sonar unit to distract me, I was able to watch the birds like sand hill cranes, osprey, bald eagle, bluebirds, coots, and all sorts of other types. Fortunately, I know where the creek channels are, so even without my electronics, I fancied my chances at catching bass as pretty good. There were a few other kayaks and boats out but I didn’t see them catch much. Which is weird because these things were all over the joint.
See that shad colored crankbait? Nice, isn’t it? The bass liked it too.
But they liked crawfish more.
Proof!
One more ate the shad though.
Still nice looking, right?
Lunch time found me stuffing these down my throat.
A guy in a hobie pulled up real close to tell me how bad the fishing was and asked if I was fishing tomorrow. I guess there’s maybe a tournament. I quickly urinated all over myself as a defense mechanism to distract him and skeedaddled so I wouldn’t have to suffer any further social interaction.
I kept fishing my crankbaits, catching lots of fat, 18-19” bass and feeling pretty good. I should have known better! That’s when evil struck!!! A big, monster bass ate my beautiful shad crank and jumped and fought and pulled line. I pulled back bound and determined to land it. But she was just as bound and determined to keep the beautiful, custom painted by me bait.
Like my dad used to always tell me: “Don’t make it look too nice, or someone will steal it!” And how! Only evil forces could possibly break the unbreakable bill of such a mighty lure. Spooky!
Figuring it was time for a change anyway, I decided to throw a Carolina rig and caught a couple of these.
All the while, I kept nervously looking over my shoulder. The lake was pretty much empty after 2:00. I was alone and getting all nervous-like. Evil loves it when you’re alone. Tired and not wanting to give evil any more chances to mess with my bassin’, I decided to call it a day and head home.
This ain’t the report you need. It it’s the report you DESERVE, TKF. Now I away into the mysterious abyss of the interwebs until next time. Happy tricks and treatings, TKF!
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
L.O.V.E. (love one very excellent) the report. Thanks for taking us A.L.O.N.G. (Always like observations n great photos)
Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Thanks Mr Cuervo! I've missed your bass reports. Wish I could be in 10 different places at once...
- Cuervo Jones
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Thanks for checking in, mr. chubs. I only wish I could dedicate more time to my angling desires. Today I made it out to check out a pond I fish now and then and found it dead dead DEAD, man. Only a few guppies in the shallows. But I did land one fish. This one.Chubs wrote:Thanks Mr Cuervo! I've missed your bass reports. Wish I could be in 10 different places at once...
It was hanging out in a downed tree in a few inches of water so I liberated it. My basslings will probably enjoy snacking on it next time they’re inhaling shad.
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- Cuervo Jones
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Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Here we go again, TKF. The bass called my personal hotline to let me know they were ready to pig out on a heavy metal diet of crankbaits and soft plastics with nice steel hooks. But it gets boring catching bass at will on the lures they want. So I decided to throw topwaters among the reeds for a bit in the morning to see what happened. What happened was one small bass attacked my homebrew rat Swimbait but all his friends were on a hunger strike. After a quick lunch, I headed for the creek channels. You know the rest.
Or DO yooouuuuu?!
The middle of the day went normally enough. Bass after bass fell to my mighty crankbait.
Some even came to sniff my fingers when i dangled them in the water. Bass are weird.
Crankbaits got boring for me and my catchlings. They demanded a soft plastic on a Carolina rig. We all agreed it was for the best.
All was normal. I was happy. My bass friends were happy. NEVER would I suspect that my very next cast would land me in....
....the Twilight Zone.
For as i glanced down to see what I was reeling in, I beheld this sight:
Similar to the rig I was throwing crankbaits on today. The kicker....it had a crankbait still tied onto it.
Water Witchery at its most obvious! The lake witches were obviously jealous of all the fun my basslings and I were having and decided to try to join in by giving me this ill-gotten fishin’ outfit. I got spooked and went back to the reeds to throw frogs for a bit and calm my nerves. Failing at that endeavor, I headed home. At the launch ramp, a couple of boaters were talking about the slow fishing and I almost told them that it’s because the lake witches were messing with them. But i got distracted by a chunk of pepper in my teeth.
Bass are biting, but only on what they want. Listen to them if you want to have fun catching them too!
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Or DO yooouuuuu?!
The middle of the day went normally enough. Bass after bass fell to my mighty crankbait.
Some even came to sniff my fingers when i dangled them in the water. Bass are weird.
Crankbaits got boring for me and my catchlings. They demanded a soft plastic on a Carolina rig. We all agreed it was for the best.
All was normal. I was happy. My bass friends were happy. NEVER would I suspect that my very next cast would land me in....
....the Twilight Zone.
For as i glanced down to see what I was reeling in, I beheld this sight:
Similar to the rig I was throwing crankbaits on today. The kicker....it had a crankbait still tied onto it.
Water Witchery at its most obvious! The lake witches were obviously jealous of all the fun my basslings and I were having and decided to try to join in by giving me this ill-gotten fishin’ outfit. I got spooked and went back to the reeds to throw frogs for a bit and calm my nerves. Failing at that endeavor, I headed home. At the launch ramp, a couple of boaters were talking about the slow fishing and I almost told them that it’s because the lake witches were messing with them. But i got distracted by a chunk of pepper in my teeth.
Bass are biting, but only on what they want. Listen to them if you want to have fun catching them too!
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
haha, that looks exactly like the gift they gave me earlier this year!
Watch out if you choose to keep it - you won't catch any fish while it's aboard!
Watch out if you choose to keep it - you won't catch any fish while it's aboard!
- Cuervo Jones
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
There is wisdom in your words Chubs! I hoist a beer in your honor.Chubs wrote:haha, that looks exactly like the gift they gave me earlier this year!
Watch out if you choose to keep it - you won't catch any fish while it's aboard!
The witches are unpredictable and tricky. We must all be wary out there on the water. Or else we might end up like this:
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Awfully good tying material on the road there, Cuervo!
- Cuervo Jones
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Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
“Take me down to the paradise city
Where the bass are green and the girls are pretty!!”—Axl Rose
Ok ramblers, let’s get this report launched. The nasty cold front blew through yesterday and left me shiverin’ with giddy anticipation. Most folks tell you basses don’t eat after a cold front. Most folks are also stupid.
So I packed my gear and set a course for the bassin’ lake. My sonar unit is down again so I’d be fishing blind. And cold. Aaaahhhhh. A challenge!
I had my heart set on throwing swimbaits to try to tempt some bigger fish today. There were some boats beating the dead trees to death with soft plastics and spinnerbaits it looked like. But as usual, there was nobody fishing in my spots. Good thing too! Because my basslings don’t like being bothered by yahoos in supersonic boats who are pretending to be Basscar tv heroes. Instead, they lurk like hoodlums, waiting to bust bluegills. And bluegill imitations like this Mattlures hardgill.
She looked kind of skinny. No doubt a victim of society’s demands that all ladies be thin. I decided to try a different color and see if the basses would like something brighter. They did.
A basscar guy spotted me having fun with my catchlings and started putting the sneak on with his trolling motor trying to get closer. I put the double cross on him and trolled to another spot to catch a few fish on crankbaits in the deeper creek channels. Including this little idiot.
Pick a color. Any color.
Bass eat all sorts of crankbaits as long as they look like crawfish and shad.
After catching a bunch of bass on crankbaits, it was time to hit the shallows again and mess with the bluegill-chompers some more.
This one must have called his friends and warned them about phony bluegills looking all tasty and vulnerable because no other bass tried to eat my swimbait. Dejected, depressed, and yearning for my hot coffee that I left in the truck, I decided to grab a few consolation bass on crankbaits as I made my way back.
Go get some bass! They’re biting, no matter what anybody says!
Cuervo Jones, signing out.
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Where the bass are green and the girls are pretty!!”—Axl Rose
Ok ramblers, let’s get this report launched. The nasty cold front blew through yesterday and left me shiverin’ with giddy anticipation. Most folks tell you basses don’t eat after a cold front. Most folks are also stupid.
So I packed my gear and set a course for the bassin’ lake. My sonar unit is down again so I’d be fishing blind. And cold. Aaaahhhhh. A challenge!
I had my heart set on throwing swimbaits to try to tempt some bigger fish today. There were some boats beating the dead trees to death with soft plastics and spinnerbaits it looked like. But as usual, there was nobody fishing in my spots. Good thing too! Because my basslings don’t like being bothered by yahoos in supersonic boats who are pretending to be Basscar tv heroes. Instead, they lurk like hoodlums, waiting to bust bluegills. And bluegill imitations like this Mattlures hardgill.
She looked kind of skinny. No doubt a victim of society’s demands that all ladies be thin. I decided to try a different color and see if the basses would like something brighter. They did.
A basscar guy spotted me having fun with my catchlings and started putting the sneak on with his trolling motor trying to get closer. I put the double cross on him and trolled to another spot to catch a few fish on crankbaits in the deeper creek channels. Including this little idiot.
Pick a color. Any color.
Bass eat all sorts of crankbaits as long as they look like crawfish and shad.
After catching a bunch of bass on crankbaits, it was time to hit the shallows again and mess with the bluegill-chompers some more.
This one must have called his friends and warned them about phony bluegills looking all tasty and vulnerable because no other bass tried to eat my swimbait. Dejected, depressed, and yearning for my hot coffee that I left in the truck, I decided to grab a few consolation bass on crankbaits as I made my way back.
Go get some bass! They’re biting, no matter what anybody says!
Cuervo Jones, signing out.
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Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Very nice. Your reports and bass always bring a smile to my face. I like those big, realistic looking hard baits. They must be fun to fish. I like a bait that you can twitch and pause all the while reveling in delicious anticipation of the impending strike.
Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Nice! You probably answered this already, but how deep of a diving crank bait do you use? And do you carry multiple depth divers with you? I'm kind of a crankbait newb so can't really tell from your tackle box.
Yesterday I was doing some casting practice with a small sinking jerk bait (Matrix Minnow) at my local pond and hooked a bass near some duck weed. Was surprised something bit cause I was just playing around. Started reeling him in and he jumped out of the water and I paused not really knowing what to do (I've only caught 1 bass before heh) but lost him in my hesitation.
Yesterday I was doing some casting practice with a small sinking jerk bait (Matrix Minnow) at my local pond and hooked a bass near some duck weed. Was surprised something bit cause I was just playing around. Started reeling him in and he jumped out of the water and I paused not really knowing what to do (I've only caught 1 bass before heh) but lost him in my hesitation.
- Cuervo Jones
- TKF 2000 club
- Posts: 2029
- Joined: Thu Nov 06, 2008 1:12 pm
- Location: Hurtling towards oblivion with a smile
Re: Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
Karst and Chubs, like Crockett and Tubbs, thanks for doing your part to nab those tricky fish perps and keep the waterways safe. I use mostly deep diver cranks, DD22’s and the like. Most were found washed up on the shoreline by me or the ol’ lady and then refurbished with fresh hardware and maybe some paint.
This past trip, another one got smashed up. This time when a bass went mental in the kayak and thrashed around thinking it was slam-dancing at a Pantera concert.
I have some shallows divers too that I mess with on occasion, but mostly when I’m fishing crankbaits, I’m trying to tempt the fish living from 12-20 feet down in creek channels and on points. I troll them like I’m angling for walleyes and the basses seem to prefer that most of the time. I think they get used to seeing crankbaits diving , plowing along for a few feet, then heading for the surface. Trolling gives them longer to inspect and follow if they want. But your mileage may vary.
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This past trip, another one got smashed up. This time when a bass went mental in the kayak and thrashed around thinking it was slam-dancing at a Pantera concert.
I have some shallows divers too that I mess with on occasion, but mostly when I’m fishing crankbaits, I’m trying to tempt the fish living from 12-20 feet down in creek channels and on points. I troll them like I’m angling for walleyes and the basses seem to prefer that most of the time. I think they get used to seeing crankbaits diving , plowing along for a few feet, then heading for the surface. Trolling gives them longer to inspect and follow if they want. But your mileage may vary.
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- Cuervo Jones
- TKF 2000 club
- Posts: 2029
- Joined: Thu Nov 06, 2008 1:12 pm
- Location: Hurtling towards oblivion with a smile
Hangin’ with the Fishes—2018 flog
“Still feel the cold
Of long past days”—December, Static X
Cold fronts freak you out?
Friends and fishing videos told you the fish don’t eat when it gets cold and rainy?
Rather stay inside with the old lady and ankle biters than man up and chase fish when the frozen arctic farts down a blast of frigid hell?
Then this report isn’t for you and I’ll thank you to leave and never speak of it again.
If you’re still reading this nonsense, congratulations! Give yourself a manly pat on the back and have a Pabst Blue Ribbon. You’ve earned it. Staring down the dark, ugly cold front this morning, I donned my Hoth battle gear with fierce determination to chase bass. Sheets of icy cold rain blasted my windshield as I drove to the lake. A lesser man would have turned tail and run. But I was driven by the fires of a bassin’ man’s burning desire to tangle with some lunkers. I launched at Fayette Lake into the polar winds and soaking, bone-chilling tears of the gods. The water was 64 degrees. Aahhhhhhh. Perfect!
Starting with swimbaits in the shallow water, I had one hit on a bluegill imitation and no love on the rat. Stupid bass. Don’t they know how hard I’m working to impress them? Rain and wind blew the few boats off the lake and it was only my truck and one van in the parking lot by noon. Time to check out another spot. Along the way, I swung by the bass nightclub (Creek channel in 10-16’ of water) and let fly the mighty deep diving crankbait to see if I could get some lovin’. It was the right thing to do.
Not a monster, but I put the squeeze on him and made him sing like a bird. He told me the big boss lady was down there, looking for crawfish. So that’s what I delivered.
She was nice and curvy. Just the way we bass-fiends like ‘em, ammiright fellas?
For the next hour or so, I let the wind blow me down the channel as I cast my cranks and reeled like a spastic, and then peddled back up the channel to start the drift all over agin.
They all looked a lot alike.
Hey, punk! What flavor crankbait do you and your hooligan pals want?
I finally taught my bass friends that crawfish colored crankbaits are NOT food. They learned their lesson and I continued on my merry way to throw rat topwaters into the reeds. Two good blowups and I missed both because I was daydreaming of tropical beaches and pina coladas.
Darkness was falling and I’d had my fun at the bass’s expense so I felt good. Don’t be a sucker for the hype. Cold fronts mess with fish, but not nearly as much as they mess with fishermen’s minds! Dare to believe!
Fishing Fonzie says “Aaaayyyyyyyyyyyy.”
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Of long past days”—December, Static X
Cold fronts freak you out?
Friends and fishing videos told you the fish don’t eat when it gets cold and rainy?
Rather stay inside with the old lady and ankle biters than man up and chase fish when the frozen arctic farts down a blast of frigid hell?
Then this report isn’t for you and I’ll thank you to leave and never speak of it again.
If you’re still reading this nonsense, congratulations! Give yourself a manly pat on the back and have a Pabst Blue Ribbon. You’ve earned it. Staring down the dark, ugly cold front this morning, I donned my Hoth battle gear with fierce determination to chase bass. Sheets of icy cold rain blasted my windshield as I drove to the lake. A lesser man would have turned tail and run. But I was driven by the fires of a bassin’ man’s burning desire to tangle with some lunkers. I launched at Fayette Lake into the polar winds and soaking, bone-chilling tears of the gods. The water was 64 degrees. Aahhhhhhh. Perfect!
Starting with swimbaits in the shallow water, I had one hit on a bluegill imitation and no love on the rat. Stupid bass. Don’t they know how hard I’m working to impress them? Rain and wind blew the few boats off the lake and it was only my truck and one van in the parking lot by noon. Time to check out another spot. Along the way, I swung by the bass nightclub (Creek channel in 10-16’ of water) and let fly the mighty deep diving crankbait to see if I could get some lovin’. It was the right thing to do.
Not a monster, but I put the squeeze on him and made him sing like a bird. He told me the big boss lady was down there, looking for crawfish. So that’s what I delivered.
She was nice and curvy. Just the way we bass-fiends like ‘em, ammiright fellas?
For the next hour or so, I let the wind blow me down the channel as I cast my cranks and reeled like a spastic, and then peddled back up the channel to start the drift all over agin.
They all looked a lot alike.
Hey, punk! What flavor crankbait do you and your hooligan pals want?
I finally taught my bass friends that crawfish colored crankbaits are NOT food. They learned their lesson and I continued on my merry way to throw rat topwaters into the reeds. Two good blowups and I missed both because I was daydreaming of tropical beaches and pina coladas.
Darkness was falling and I’d had my fun at the bass’s expense so I felt good. Don’t be a sucker for the hype. Cold fronts mess with fish, but not nearly as much as they mess with fishermen’s minds! Dare to believe!
Fishing Fonzie says “Aaaayyyyyyyyyyyy.”
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk