If you’re anything like me, just hearing the words “bass fishing” evokes childhood memories of sweltering hot summers and brightly colored deer hair poppers. I can vividly remember riding my bike, fly rod clutched tightly across the handlebars, to Tony Specchio’s farm. My excitement grew with each carefully placed step as I traipsed across the “fragrant”cow pastures to fish my favorite pond. Like most “noobie” fly anglers, I cut my teeth catching largemouth bass.
“Count to one hundred, ” Dad used to say, “that’s how long you should wait before moving your popper.” As a youngster, it always felt like an eternity watching the concentric waves expand away from the fly as they disappeared into the glassy surface of the pond. After about thirty seconds, I just couldn’t take waiting anymore. I would bring my popper to life, awakening the pond with a loud Baaa-LOOUpe! A siren call to ready and waiting bass lurking in the cattails. To this day, I just don’t know what’s better, the violent explosion when the bass decides to eat, or the anticipation building up to the ambush. I guess it’s all part of the experience and what draws us all back to largemouth bass.