Victory over adversity...

Bass fishing from the bank is often a puzzle that when put together correctly can produce a beautiful picture. However, when you lay a 1000 piece puzzle in front of a child, frustration is eminent. If you walk toward the lake with a lure already in your mind that you plan to use without first assessing conditions, failure or at least frustration could soon pay you a visit.

I've been reminded of this more than a couple of times when traveling to my wife's parents home in the country. It sounds so swanky when I say it like that, but when I say country...I mean "the sticks". My magic farm pond belongs to their neighbors on 80 acres of rough and tumble. I have to hike 1/2 mile one way through chest high native grass dodging bovine land mines, ankle eating hoof holes, and the occasional slithering surprise to the 300 yard long body of water. My best fishing is generally from the dam which spans the 180 yard width of the quaint little "farm pond". (It's a good size puddle)

It's one of those places that seems predictable until you try to predict it. If the magic pond gets any sense of over confidence from the approaching angler, it will eat you for lunch just for amusement.

For instance, in December of 2014 (winter in the Midwest) I was catching 16 largemouth per hour. In February of this year, I was catching 26 largemouth per hour. Amazing fishing for winter. I was so excited about February, I confidently invited my own Dad a couple of weeks later to fish this massive honey hole. He caught zero, I caught only 2. We were on the back side of a cold front that day and it tore us a new one.

Usually in the winter months there's not much vegetation to foul out my lures so my very best results occur when the sun warms the surface and I employ a slow moving flashy bait that I can keep high in the column. In this case, dressed silver Mepps Aglia #4. When the planets align on this place, there is no better weapon. These bass are extremely optimistic when the surface temp increases a couple degrees, so they become very active.

Spring wreaks havoc by way of weeds. I'm not a botanist, but it seems as if the entire pond has a layer of coontail, milfoil, moss, and whatever else grows there. Usually (I have to whisper this so the pond doesn't hear me) when the weeds bear their pretty faces, I descend on the place  loaded with plastics and frogs and annihilate it like a silent sniper at a practice range.

Of course this spring is different. It has to be different, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this account of near defeat. We've had ridiculous amounts of rain, hail, and just general crazy weather recently. It all seemed to start leveling off as nature found her peace so I approached this weekend with a fairly rigid and pointed plan. Annihilate!

The day before we left, the skies opened up on my little town and rained down holy terror in the form of golf ball plus-sized hail. My poor 2001 Dodge Dakota with only 45k original miles lost the title of Super Truck to the new moniker: Dimples. Sad, sad day. It didn't take me long to stop thinking about my beautiful disaster of a truck sitting in Amber Flame dimples, and start wondering what all this weather was going to do to my weekend at the in-laws. Incidentally, it's MY weekend because it's my 40th birthday.

We arrived at the farm and I commenced to assembling my arsenal of rods, reels, tackle bag, rain gear, boots...yada. I woke up early Saturday morning and headed out with (first mistake) my first lure in mind. I hiked a half mile in rain gear because the morning dew was waist-high. At first glance, there wasn't a weed in sight!! I was stoked like Shaun White dropping into a 20 -foot pipe. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the rain had increased the water level to just barely above the weeds. It was difficult to tell where the weeds even were.

I started the day with the infamous Whopper Plopper. This bait is new to me but looked so intriguing that I couldn't resist. I caught 3 in the first hour because the moss on the weeds kept getting wrapped up in the Whopper Plopper Prop. I guess you'd call it "Whopper Plopper Slopper Propper syndrome". I switched to a Senko in hopes that the soft plastic time of year would get me through it all. The Senko was a total frustration because it would get loaded with moss as I pulled it to me.

There wasn't much weed-mat structure to throw a frog on, so I pulled a hard-stop before frustration set in and thought about the situation. I know these guys are still eating shad and little fish, so I loaded up with wake baits and a Topwater Perch and tried again. I worked the wake baits around sections of weeds, and threw the topwater perch into where I suspected the thicker weeds to be.

I could hear victory trumpets as I started yanking in largemouth after largemouth, over and over. In the next couple hours, I had amassed a total of 43 fish...the highlights being several in the 3.5-5 pound range and a 6 pound Toad.

Thank God I took a minute to reassess the situation because I turned a frustrating day on the banks of a volatile place into a killer time that I'll never ever forget!

Enjoy some of the highlight pictures from my day below. Click for larger image.

Fire Tiger, Still Hot as Ever!!!

 A New Personal Best

(click for large image)

A new personal best for me...I never thought it would happen to a guy like me in a place like this...

I live in a large Midwest metro area and fish from the bank. (kinda the whole point of the blog) No electronics, no 10x rigs on the deck of a pretty boat all tied up and ready...only a rod and reel and what I can comfortably carry on my back. Until 2014, my personal best Largemouth was a 4# cutie from Kansas caught on a 1/2oz Rat-l-trap in Classic Fire Tiger that I nabbed in my teens. Heck, back then I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't try to read structure or conditions. I threw what looked fun. I picked out lures like the ladies pick out cars..."ooh, that's a pretty blue one!"

Fast-forward 20+ years and I finally decided to actually learn how to somewhat intelligently structure-fish according to conditions and it paid off in spades with a 6 pound beauty on a medium diving sexxy shad. I hadn't ever considered catching lunker Bass in my region. In my mind, that fairy tale was reserved for places like Texas, Florida, and California. I caught a ton of bass in '14 in the 2-5 pound range and loved every minute of it, but the following year would be my first taste of an award-size trophy lunker in the form of an 8.25# toad. 2015 was a wonderful year for this bank-fisherman and catching what everyone told me was a once-in-a-lifetime lunker largemouth in my region was the sweetest icing on the cake. The small public waters that I frequent are busy and pressured. I often wonder how I catch anything at all, but with some persistence and creativity, I've been blessed with some of the greatest days on the water anyone could ask for. 

I can confidently say I've come full circle in a manner of speaking as of just 2 days ago. I was fishing a small public lake that was stirred up and pretty murky from recent rainfall. Visibility was maybe a foot or so (normal, murky, crappy) and the warm evening sun was beginning to leave me with a chill in the air. I had caught a few little ones on a Blueberry Perch Supernatural Knocking Rat-l-trap when disaster struck and I snagged and lost it. Man I was bummed!! Given the fact that the sun was nearly set and the visibility very low, I opted for my old friend the Classic Fire Tiger to cut through the murk. I tied it on and began working my way back to the truck when I thought I snagged again. I mean this hook-up was SOLID!! My snag started moving and fighting and I soon saw the beautiful beast on the end of my line. She made a run towards me and I thought for a split second that she was gone, but my 6.8:1 ratio kept up with her and kept my line tight.

At this point, I wasn't aware of the magnitude of the situation because she had yet to make a wholehearted escape, but when she was 3 feet from the bank, she decided to turn-tail and run. And run...she did!! She stripped line off my reel like the brakes were gone and headed for cover. Seconds seemed like an eternity, but I fought her for maybe another half a minute and reached down to lip her. As I grabbed her jaw, her mouth made my big sausage fingers seem small. I mean...I've got pretty big hands. I generally opt for large grips and I can palm my old Lew Childre's BB-1 LMG original Speed Spool quite comfortably.

Mind you even at this point, I had no idea that this bass would eclipse my 8.25# Largemouth from July of last year. The water was murky, the sun was set, and all I could see was part of the head. When I reached in and started pulling her out of the water, the sheer girth of this toad really shocked me. Fat, fat belly and a big wide back. It all seemed to happen in slow motion at that point, just watching all that fish come out of my little local public fishing hole. She was 9 pounds. 

As I reflected back on the near impossibility of me catching another trophy-sized largemouth from the pressured banks in my region of the USA, I know now that anything is possible and I'm so happy to have caught my new personal best on the same classic bait that fueled my fire as an early teen Angler.

My Personal Best Over the Years

(As of 4/9/16...)

Some are light line personal bests, some are big fish personal bests, but all were a total blast to catch. I'll give a quick muddled rundown of them in the order of which they were caught. Keep in mind that all but one was caught from the bank:

The oldest picture chronologically is that of my Dad and I posing with my big ol' Drum that barely overshadows my big ol' afro. I gotta be honest, I barely remember this. All I remember is how there were limbs hanging over the water where I was fishing, and I actually got the perm to look like my second cousin.

Obviously lacking in style and a tan above the elbows...next in line is the one of me as a sophomore in highschool in my Mom's kitchen posing as a fishing nerd with my personal best largemouth that held for years until I decided to take the time and effort to learn some technique. I this was the first real bass experience for me and I caught it on a Classic Fire Tiger Rat-L-Trap. This is also the only personal best I caught from a boat.

The next one in order of time would be the one of me standing on a dock of the least likely place I would think I could catch this 21.5" beauty that had my jaw dropping for hours. My daughter and I had just left WalMart where I had purchased a 3-pack of Bomber crankbaits. I really wanted to test them out and see how they were tuned, so I got sidetracked on the way home at a small lake near a neighborhood not too far from my home. I had heard that this lake had nearly been milked dry a couple years prior due to a drought, so I wasn't intending to feel any opposition on the end of my line, but on the 4th cast with the Sexy Shad color...my rod doubled over and IT WAS ON!! I caught so many bass that year, but none larger. My daughter didn't understand why I was so excited...but I was flipping out even an hour after I landed it.

The big Hawg 8.25lbs largemouth would come next on the timeline. I often follow a "40-minute rule" that states if I haven't done well at a location in 40-minutes, I'll move to a new body of water. This particular morning, my Dad and I were fishing a small lake and I had only caught 2x little dinks in 40 minutes. We decided to shove-off to another smaller lake and follow the 40-minute rule. My Dad went left, I went right...I started yanking them out left and right and capped off the awesome morning with this beautiful trophy largemouth that I had been seeking since my early 'teens.

About 1 month later, I snagged a 4-foot grass carp in the exact same hole on 12lbs mono that I eventually lost. I fought that monster for an eternity and got his tail onto the bank...TOUCHING THE GRASS!! Then I reached down to try to lip him and he flopped his tail twice, broke my line and went on his merry way. The following morning, I was completely blessed with yet another master angler-sized fish in the form of a 16" Crappie caught on light tackle and a Tiny Trap in the exact same place from whence I pulled the big Hawg bass. The following week, I did the same thing in the same place and was rewarded with another beautiful crappie measuring 15". There's something magic about that little fishing hole for sure. 

The same weekend yielded a new personal record for me on light tackle by way of a 4lbs largemouth bass. I was throwing a chrome / blue back bleeding Tiny Trap on 4lbs mono and an ultralight glass rod sporting a vintage 1980's Ryobi ultralight V-Mag 3 reel. This I believe was the straw that broke the Rat-L-Trap's back and afforded me the opportunity with Bill Lewis Outdoors as a Field Staffer. I tend to approach bass fishing a little differently by way of light tackle when the bite gets tough or I just want a different experience. Tiny Trap's are the virtual Ned Rig of crankbaits and seem to really pay out in that arena.

Days later, I landed this beautiful 16" White Bass on a Pink / Black Tiny Trap in the same area as the 4lbs largemouth. This was my third Angler Award for the year and a real confidence booster in the capabilities of pink lures. I have literally annihilated white bass on pink 'Traps.

In the spirit of light tackle, the image of me with the 13" White Crappie was a wonderful morning adventure at the most surprising little pond that ever held a nice crappie. No larger than 35yds across, I've caught several nice crappie out of this little puddle in the ground...and tossed them back to fight another day. It's one of those little magic spots that I don't think anyone even realizes can hold a fish. Likely why they are big and voracious.

This year (2016) has been a little different in that I have been wrestling Moby Dick on a more regular basis by way of Carp. The image of me holding the 27 pound grass carp is my personal biggest freshwater fish caught on MH bass gear and 14# Stren monofilament. The largemouth weren't biting anything I threw at them. I had finally coaxed one ashore with a silver Mepp's Aglia #4, so I stuck with the little inline spinner in hopes that I would run into his friends. This was the second grass carp I have accidentally snagged with that lure.

Only 4 days later, the panfish were calling my name. I headed to a big local lake with my Diawa Pixy spooled with 8lbs monofilament and my ML Bass Pro Micro Lite rod. The water looked like it was boiling in places, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was causing it. I threw a 1/32oz Beetlespin for into the turbulent mire and thought I got hung up, but my snag started talking back. I tussled with the 20# Common Carp for 10 minutes and got him within a foot of the bank. To my terror, I saw that my safety pin jig spinner had come unclipped and was just barely holding on for the ride. I reached out and clipped it right as the gargantuan carp hit round 2. I fought him for another 5-10 minutes and finally lipped him to shore.

It's still early in the year and I plan to add more to this as I go, so stay tuned.

The Master Angler Hubub...

I remember when I was in my teens learning about bass fishing (mostly enjoying buying gear and seeing how far I could cast a baitcaster into open water) and dreaming about the elusive "Master Angler" award. This was before social media and during a nice 'growth period' for bass fishing. Most of the fishermen I knew were only using 1 rod and reel instead of 10 or 20 laying all over the deck...and lures like the 1/2oz beetlespin and plain old chrome / blue back Rat-L-Trap were our most coveted trinkets.

My uncle got my Dad and I fired up on bass fishing. Years prior, I fished as a young kid...heck, I lived on a farm. Of course I fished. But my perception of fishing was to grab whatever live bait you can find and put it on a hook...and just...hope for the best.

Now it's the 1980's and 90's and I've got my uncle showing me all of these beautiful shiny things that could pass for Christmas ornaments mixed with super high tech stuff like Boron fishing poles with weird looking reels that had 3 or even 4 ball bearings!! Oh my heavens...how my gear-head, tech geekedness went into overdrive!

Well, this same uncle had gotten what he called a "Master Angler Award" from a monster 7lbs Kansas largemouth bass hanging on his wall. I was in awe just appreciating something so exquisite. As I already stated...this was before social media and digital video hosting websites. Heck...this was before the internet. As far as I knew, there were only a few people in the state of Kansas who could catch such a wonderful prize. Well, for many years...I wondered what it would be like to catch a bass that would qualify for the much-appreciated Master Angler award.

Fast-forward a couple of generations, many advancements in rods and reels, and about 300 more specific bass-catching techniques that we all needed to master...and social media hits the scene. Remember, when I lived on the farm I had no access to Bassmaster news or anything that the world of bass fishing was doing. I would get my yearly catalog from the "big store" and try to catch Jimmy Houston, Bill Dance, or Hank Parker on TV from time to time...but to me, these dudes were the Untouchables of the Bass Fishing scene. The Magic Men. People who could catch trophy bass all day, every day...without breaking a sweat.

Social media hits the scene and now we can really get more of a grip on how many monster lunker fish are out there getting caught by the average Joe. Heck...it seems like a daily occurance that I see a newly posted double-digit toad. A couple years ago, I really dug-in and started learning structure technique in hopes that my day would come. I have already posted snippets on my progression of personal best Largemouth catches, but it began as a teen with a 3.5-4lbs and ended this past week on a 9lbs honey that I caught nearly in the dark.

The funny thing is...in the last 10 months, I've gotten 10 of those once-untouchable awards that I once deemed nearly impossible. 6 from Missouri, and 4 more from the Mepp's program. All from the bank, and all from just having fun honing my skills.

There's a sense of pride knowing that you're doing a good job in whatever you feel is something worth investing a portion of your life. Sometimes it's difficult to quantify how well you're doing on paper, but with fishing it's all about having fun. If I'm not having fun, I'm doing something wrong...but there's also a competitive spirit that comes with every passion. Even if you're just competing with yourself and a previous best...it's nice to know there are small ways to quantify and commemorate our memorable catches and truly honor the ones that are exceptional for our region.

In my profession, I see and spend extended periods of time with many people. Some young, but many middle aged to elderly. The one consensus that I've arrived at by interviewing these old fishing bums is that they really don't appreciate that skin mount hanging on their wall. I really had considered mounting a couple of mine, but the money it would take to do that would really cut into my family provision, so I keep trying to one-up my personal best and commemorate the catch with a Master Angler award and plenty of pictures mounted in a shadowbox. Sometimes it seems silly, but it's a satisfying feeling to see all those accomplishments hanging on the wall in the basement waiting to be bested next season.

Many states have their own programs, but there are also fun national programs that give you an opportunity to earn an award and compete with your buddies...it can become like an addictive game to enrich your fishing experience. My own state of Missouri and my place of birth (Kansas) both host these fun programs, as well as the In-Fisherman and the Mepp's lure company.

I really suggest participating in these programs especially if you have youngsters that you're teaching how to fish because it's just one more piece of fuel to keep the passion of such a wonderful and wholesome family oriented past time burning bright for those who live and breathe it!

Proof of pain...

(click on image for full size)

I usually avoid trout fishing in the middle of the afternoon not only because I have a full-time day job, but as far as hit and miss goes…it’s generally more “miss” than “hit”. I was staying home with my lovely wife because she had undergone a procedure at the hospital and could use a hand with life at home. As I was sitting on the couch with her, I could sense that she was starting to doze off into Neverland. I started to get antsy with every light breath she took. As soon as her head dropped, I made a run for the truck like a silent ninja moving at warp speed. It’s time to get outside!

I never really expect to catch anything in the middle of a 40deg day but a runny nose, but I figured if I didn't see anything in the lake, I'd go knock down a few rabbits. It's trout season here. Stocked trout, that is. Those poor confused creatures that are usually spoon-fed their breakfast pebbles every day by some gargantuan stranger. The big ones around here tend to have a scar on their nose on one side from swimming around counterclockwise bumping their faces a concrete tank for so long. I can’t imagine the horror they experience when all of the sudden one day, they’re sucked out of their comfortable, pebble-stocked home and thrust into a tube on wheels, only to be excreted out the rear end into a giant scary new world with no morning pebbles.

Between 6:30-7:30 am seems to be feeding time for them. I try to get out before dawn and be ready when the sun comes up because the frenzy doesn’t last long. After that you really have to work for it. When I showed up at my favorite little winter trout lake, my heart sank because the dock from which I catch my limit within 40 minutes nearly every trip out, was full of hopeful trout anglers. I was hesitant to ask if I could butt-in next to them because it gets tight in the winter but they let me toss a line in next to them anyway. I put a little Zebco Dock Demon in with Powerbait on a homemade rail-mounted pole holder and jigged with my ultralight using my brand new white Trout Magnets. Nobody was really catching anything, but 10 minutes in to my jigging...an enormous Yeti appeared on the end of my line in the form of a lunker stocked rainbow trout. I was using 4 pound monofilament line on my ultralight, so horsing him in Bassmasster style wasn't an option. A few nail biting moments passed as I coaxed him to the surface and reached for my net. A fellow dock-fisherman said "Hold on to him, I'll net him for ya!" “Okay”, I though. I waited…and waited…and waited. I waited for the nice kid to get his net and get ready, but I think he must have stopped at the convenience store on the way around the dock because it took entirely too long!! The fish got a second wind and took my new white jigs to the bottom. He ran under the only log in my zip code and tore free from my line.

This fish was easily 6 pounds. I know that people say stuff like that all the time about the one that got away, but I know he was! Just the other day, I was walking along the bank and approached a nice middle-aged fellow with whom I assumed to be his young daughter. We shared some experiences and told some fishing related tall-tales when he began telling me about his daughter that won a new topwater frog in a local contest. She apparently took the frog out to the pads and pulled in a 5lbs behemoth largemouth. He had the picture to “prove it”. He whipped out his phone like a quick-draw gunfighter and pulled it up for me to drool over. Now I know that phone screens can make things look smaller, but if this fish weighed 5lbs, then the topwater frog was one and a half of them. But like I said…I have proof of my lunker trout.

My fish lost, my 2x new jigs lost...I was heartbroken, yet really stoked. I guess they actually do bite in the middle of the afternoon. I tied on some new jigs and dropped in hoping for the best. The water was dead, nearly stagnant now and the fish were turned off. The guy who couldn't get his net out quick enough for me lay his rod down with a jig dangling in the water and took a break. Within minutes, his dangling jig disappeared and his spinning rod bent over like a gut punched boxer. “Fish on!!” I had a bad feeling about it, but I watched intently because it looked like a really nice fish.

When it surfaced, it looked suspiciously like my lost Yeti! I grabbed my net faster than Flash Gordon and netted him for the poor kid. This fish was huge for a stocked rainbow!! I may have said something snarky in my own mind like "Now that's how you net a fish" but I kept my mouth shut. I pulled him out of the net and by golly...there were my jigs in the mouth of the Yeti that got away. The most difficult thing about it was his dangling jig was snagged from the outside.

I have never in my life felt so defeated. I moaned to my wife and kids about losing that trout for at least 2 weeks. I learned a few things that day the first of which may be that fish bite all day long, so if you’ve got the time, get out and fish. Don’t watch the barometer, don’t look at the water clarity, just drop a line in and have some fun. Another valuable lesson could be don't rely on the guy near you even when he offers because he may turn into Rip VanWinkle on his way to the net. Always have your own net ready...you never know what will tap the end of your 4lbs test line.

I'm glad I got my jigs back...wish I could have kept the fish. I'm happy for the kid who got the fish...it really made his year. I’ve not seen a smile on someone that big since. As for the proof? I'm happy to say that I got a picture of me with "the one that got away" taken by the kid who snagged him out from under me. Insult to injury, lesson learned and a memory that will never be forgotten.

Being "One" with the bass...

(click images for full size)

For some peculiar reason lately, every good fishing story I have ends with a Rat-l-trap.

You have to become "One" with the bass. I've heard about this age-old technique with regards to just about everything. Fishing, hunting, motocross, skateboarding...they all say it. You have to become "One" with your 'blank'.

When I was younger and learning to do various skateboard tricks off staircases, the advice that I sought always came back as "Let the board be an extension of your body...become 'One' with the board." To some degree, this logic works well and eventually I was busting-out Pop Shuv It's and Heelflips off structures with the best of them.

Back to fishing...you have to think like a fish, become 'One' with the bass. Put yourself in their shoes, so to speak. I believe I took that theory to the next level this morning.

I was out early at a small public lake, not hitting squat and decided to adhere to my 40 minute rule which basically states: if I'm not doing well within 40 minutes, I move on to another lake. (the benefits of being a die-hard bank angler) Since I had only caught 1 fingerling, I moved on.

(my lone catch at lake #1)

I arrived at the next body of water loaded for bear and began my clockwise trek around the lake. I should have known it was going to be a special morning because I almost always work this lake moving counterclockwise...likely to minimize my impact on the environment and help maintain the earth's natural rotation.

I started throwing a Bomber Square A in Red Craw in an attempt at working the logs and other evils that the "powers that be" toss haphazardly into the puddle to help maintain habitat. I bounced the little Craw off everything I could find, but couldn't seem to garner a strike. I switched back to a 1/4oz Rat-l-trap because it was the only thing that worked at the lake I had previously endured. I opted for a white and pink shad with a flat finish (a vintage color by Rat-l-trap) instead of the Chrome/ Green back I had tied on earlier because the water in this lake was considerably muddier. The flat white cuts through the murk like a torch in the night. I knew it was a huge risk given the fact that I was rapidly approaching Missouri's version of the Bermuda Triangle which has voraciously devoured millions of dollars in fishing tackle over the years...especially those irresponsible crankbaits with low-hanging trebles.

I willingly threw caution to the wind like a one legged granny on a Harley and started slicing through the cove with my small lipless crankbait with surgical precision. Less than 5 minutes had elapsed when I began the fight of my life.

I threw the bait beyond a log perpendicular to the bank and retrieved it parallel within a foot or so. Half way in, I got a nice big strike. I set the hook and let the fun ensue. I pulled him in around 5 feet and almost instantly it felt like I had 2 monsters on the line. I would gain only a foot and he would instantly take it back. Given the fact that I know big bass don't instantly reproduce a new replica as they likely do in kids alien-bass video games today, I realized that he had quickly become entangled in hordes of hi-viz 20# catfish line and 50# bass braid that likely dated back to the American Revolution. The Bermuda Triangle strikes again.

Well I knew I had a few options, the first being to just pull with all I had and hope my 14# Stren mono is fresh and perky enough to break the other lines. My second option was to go back to the truck and get my heavy braid rod and try to snag the snag and pull the entire mess ashore, the 3rd option facing me was to cut my losses and my line and hope for a better day ahead.

Not being one to give in so quickly, I began with option 1 (within reason) followed by option 2... neither of which were successful because as I trekked 300 yards round-trip to the truck for my braid rod, he pulled me deeper into the snags. I grabbed my line and pulled it back fairly hard to attempt to get the gist of what was happening and I could see that big beauty and my lure ensnared in the mess. I was at a loss and was considering option 3 when I realized that the bass would die there if my line broke. It was at this point that my life training came to mind. "Be One with the bass" echoed in my mind.

I emptied my pockets, tossed it all on my backpack on the bank, and I went swimming. I waded into the chilly water with my rod tip high. Once it hit the top of my boots, it was game-on. When I reached the snag, I was literally chest-deep in murky soup. I started feeling logs against my leg and as I reached in, I quickly located the caged beast. I could feel its jaw, my lure, and enough old line to spool every reel on the Pro tour. Heaving it all free of the log was easy, getting back to shore without falling completely in was tricky.

I waded back to freedom and took a moment for a quick photo op. I looked at the mess of line and lures I had retrieved and noticed that the split ring attached to the front treble on my hero 'Trap was a frog's hair from being completely pulled apart. I felt fortunate, blessed, & grateful. I noticed that there were at least 6-7 other people across the lake watching intently but I wasn't embarrassed. In fact, I think I had just become a bit of a hero.


(5 1/4 pounds)




(Darn near lost this one!)



(The mess of lures that came with all the line and fish)

Welcome to Blue Collar Bankfishing...

"The Bass Apprentice"

I would like to take a moment to introduce myself and my page. My name is Ed and I'm just a farm boy trapped in the city who fishes the banks of KCMO area to relax and Geek out on bass fishing. I started bass fishing with my Dad and uncle in the late 80's when I was in my early teens. Took a hiatus trying to figure out life, but found myself immersed back into it. I'm a bank-fisherman because I'm a broke, working family man, hehehe. I love all sorts of fishing but have a passion for casting lures. Love bass fishing, or Panfish on light tackle when the bite gets tough.

My most recent whopper's are a 20# Common Carp on 8 pound line and a ML rod and my personal best Largemouth at 9# on a Classic Fire Tiger Rat-l-trap.

I began a really cool relationship with Bill Lewis Outdoors this past year (2015) when they noticed some of my light-tackle catches and gave me an opportunity to participate as a field staffer. I have loved using Rat-L-Traps since I began fishing, but the last few years, I've been targeting all sorts of fun species with Tiny Traps. I picked up a White Bass and Crappie last year that both qualified for Missouri Master Angler awards, but one of my favorites was a 4# Largemouth that I tussled with on ultralight gear and 4# mono.

I'm not a tournament Pro or anything, but have been enjoying testing Traps and sharing my experiences with all who will listen.

My goal with this page isn't necessarily to get sponsors and fish for a living, more so to write stories from the perspective of a Midwest bank angler who just loves to bass fish. My opinions are derived from research, trial and error, and what works for me.

I'm a self-proclaimed "Bass Apprentice", far from a master. There is so much data and so many articles out there catering to the Bassmaster, tournament pro's and the like...but not much for the every day blue collar bank fisherman. I'm hoping to make a small dent in that problem one experience at a time.

Welcome and enjoy!