Striped Bass Candy

Weather: Pre-frontal
Water: High 60's with a slight stain
Lures and Techniques: 6" Bull Shad

 The mailman scored some serious cool points when he dropped off the package post marked Mike Bucca.  Today is going to be a good day.  I immediately unpack my new goodies, snap some photos, brag to all my facebook buddies, then load up boat, rods, and other trappings.  Hit the road running is no apt descriptor.  Upon launching, I discover both a strong headwind and an even stronger current.  In places I paddled furiously with little progress.  The same funny looking log laughed at me through a twisted knot-hole as floundered.  I ground my JK Coosa on a rock shelf to catch my breath and make a few casts.

No luck here, I skirt the complex network of shoals upstream and position my boat in some slack water to attack a prime spot.  Drop the drag chain, inspect line and knot, and check the drag on my Revo; all set for dropping bombs.  I begin to carefully dissect the shoals, bombing the Bull Shad into every section. SLAM, my Bull Shad is annihilated by an unseen predator.  The beast immediately turns down stream, ripping line from the spool.  Striped bass...not doubt about it.  Nothing hits, turns, and runs with the power and ferocity of a striped bass.   Despite my drag chain, I am pulled downriver for a nice sleigh ride.  Big striped bass always have something left in the tank and have a nasty habit of breaking lines, breaking rods, and breaking hearts right at the boat.  I backed off my drag a few clicks and allowed her to run out the last of her steam.

I plopped down in the water and supported her in the slack water; it was ninety-five, so I didn't really mind.  Striped Bass, for all their brute strength and aggression, are surprisingly delicate and need intensive care when landed.  I immediately hooked her onto a metal stringer to set up my camera and then spent about five minutes with her in the water to ensure she was ready to roll.  C.P.R.  Catch Photo Release.  Striped Bass usually seek out thermal refuges in shallow rivers, so they usually stack up in the deeper cuts.  Putting my boat back into position, I began carpet bombing the shoals with a Bull Shad aerial attack.  BOOM!  R-I-I-I-P  my drag peeled off at a frenetic pace as a river-run leviathan blasted down stream.  Drag chain ripped from the mossy bottom, my Coosa is pulled downstream faster than a gaggle of bikini clad tubers.  Sleigh ride indeed!  My drag chain catches hold and I lean into my seven foot Veritas, turning the river monsters head lest she run past the next set of shoals.  Striped Bass on bass tackle is like holding lighting in a bottle; so much can go wrong.  I manage to wrestle her boatside only have her go balistic.  She pulled with all the adverbs in Webster's keep; under, over, alongside, across, over, against.  I attempt to net her but only the upper third of the beast fit!  The front hooks on the Bull Shad entangle in the netting and the back hook hangs precariously in the corner of the fish's mouth.  Pulse pounding, nerves fraying, any wrong move could pry the hooks free.  Going for broke I grab a handful of netting and flip net, Bull Shad, and Striped Bass into the Coosa.  Filled with exhilaration, I let out a roar and pound the air with a fist pump.