Friday found me back at the gravel pits where Frank had caught his giant fish and I had caught a good fish a couple weeks earlier. The water was way up. Way, way up actually. I caught my bass by running and gunning a spinnerbait thru the flooded willows while Frank did just as good or better by camping on his honey hole where water flowed thru the cut from one pit to the next. As I brought my spinner bait by a flooded clump of willows a big bass hit. It was easily the best bass I've had on in years. Just as I thought Id land it it wrapped around a small willow twig and snapped the 14lb test like sewing thread. I ended up catching several nice bass and some pretty white bass but it was all something of a a letdown after losing the giant fish.
The next day found me at an old abandoned farm where I had found a pond on google earth. The old farm was really run down and spooky. No paths were in the waist high grass and I had big hopes. Two hours later and I only had a big panfish hit my plastic worm.
Later that night, feeling like I'd missed something I went fishing again. This time in an old gravel pit. It was inky dark with no moon but I'd been here many times before. A small bass hit my plastic worm on the first cast and it was game on as I caught bass steadily for hours.
The next night found me and Brenda at my friend Mikes apartment complex. I really hadn't expected much and was there as much for the company as the fishing. Sure enough the only fish we caught was a bass around a pound, again hitting my plastic worm.
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