By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com

By most accounts, I’ve had a pretty good year tournament fishing thus far. I’ve been on the water 33 days. I’ve fished nine tournaments. I have six top tens, three of those being wins. I’ve also weighed in the two biggest limits of my life at 26.32 and 27.96.

We’re now halfway through May and the fishing is about to change dramatically. If you’ve followed any of my other blogs, you know that my favorite time of year to fish is post-spawn and summer. Usually I struggle in the pre-spawn season, but for some reason this year, I’ve been fortunate to figure out a few things and put them together when it counted. So, I really hope that I can continue my relatively good season into my favorite time.

As the summer months approach, here are few things I think about:

1. Where are they going?

We all know that southern bass get shallow in April. The annual spawn usually starts when the water temps hit 60. I always look at the dogwood bloom as mother nature’s sign that the spawn is on. Although not all bass spawn at the same time, when the water temps hit 60 and hold there for a few days (which usually happens in April in Tennessee), they start doing their thing.

Now, on most of our lakes, the spawn is drawing to a close. Sure there are still some bedders to be found, but for the most part, the spawn is ending. The bass are in a transistion mode. Depending on the lake, they are starting to head for their summer-time homes. While some fish certainly will stay shallow during May, I start looking for the fish in the first deeper water or breaks outside of spawning areas. This can be a point, hump or just a deeper bank heading out toward the main lake.

2. Shad and Bluegill Spawn:

One of the things that can hold bass shallow during the post-spawn season is the spawn of their prey. Shad and Bluegill usually spawn in May and since both are a primary forage, the bass may up and decide to stick around and do a little eatin. Bluegill usually spawn in the same type of places bass do, that is, shallow water with a hard or gravel bottom.  The bass will usually be found not too far from these bluegill beds. The shad; however, will spawn in some pretty weird places. Grass edges, riprap, and boat docks are the three main places that come to mind. A main thing that a bass fisherman needs to know about the shad spawn is that it is an early-morning thing. Don’t sleep in in May. My experience has been that you can catch them until the sun gets up above the trees. It is usually a short-lived bite, but can be ferocious. I throw a 1/2 to 3/4 Hoppy’s Spinnerbait with double willow leaf blades. The bites are viscous and they will often knock slack in the line. To find bass relating to a shad spawn, look for shad following your spinnerbait around those aforementioned structures, and hang on.

3. Covering Water:

Although bass will get the post-spawn blues for a few days, many of the bass this time of year will be ready to eat. They are worn out from a few days of romance and ready for a good meal. So, keep moving. They are biting somewhere. I usually start just outside of spawning areas and keep moving deeper until I find some type of pattern. Another thing to remember is that these fish are transistioning, so don’t think that they will be in exactly the same place from one day or one week to the next. Keep moving with them and cover water until you find something that works.

4. Fish care:

My last little piece of advice as the warmer months approach is for my fellow tournament fishermen. Fish care becomes much more critical now. When the water is cooler and the fish are not as stressed from the spawn, they are much easier to take care of. During March, I usually just keep pumping fresh water into my livewells and recirculating the water on a timer. However, here are a few tips for keeping those biguns alive after the spawn and during the summer months.

As the water temps climb into the 80s, we need to take measures to keep our livewells cooler. Although store-bought ice is an easy option here, some argue that the additives in our water may be harmful to the fish. The best option I’ve found (when available) is to bring home some lake water in the livewell, mix in some Rejuvenate or other release formula, and freeze it 1 gallon ziplock bags. During the really hot months, I may have 10 or more frozen bags. I take them along in a soft-sided cooler or two and add them periodically throughout the day.

You also want to keep the livewells on recirculate. Especially, once you get the water temps down, you don’t want to add hot, surface water. The exception to this is that periodically through the day (about every 3 hours), I’ll slowly pump in fresh water to replace the “used water” in the livewells. I am always careful to add some more ice after changing the water. Finally, I’ll regularly add a little Rejuvenate to the livewells. This stuff doesn’t necessarily work miracles, but it does help. I’ve been fortunate to lose very few fish even in the hottest of conditions following these steps. It takes a little more preparation, but it certainly pays off.

So, that’s my May Potpourri. I’ve got tournaments the next 7 weekends, so hopefully, I’ll have some good results to post and some good stories to tell. If I don’t, I’m sure I’ll have some good excuses!

Until next time,

He ain’t got it in his hands

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com

Last weekend I attended the 4th annual Back 40 Outreach, Jeff Lambert Memorial Tournament on Lake Guntersville. This is the third year I have participated in this event and it is a weekend that I will not soon forget, for many reasons. Back 40 Outreach is a non-profit Christian organization of men who share a passion for the outdoors and for sharing Jesus through God’s creation. Every year we get together for a fun “tournament.” This is a nice break for me from the intensity of fishing the other tournaments that I fish every week. There is no money on the line, just bragging rights. Here is the format: On Saturday, we fish 3 four hour sessions, and one on Sunday. There are boaters and non-boaters. Each boater is paired with a different non-boater during each session. For guys like me, with bigger tournament bass boats, I got two non-boaters each session. At the end of the session, we return, weigh-in our fish, grab a snack, get our next partners and head back out. The tournament awards the biggest 5-bass weight on both the boater and non-boater side, big fish on the boater and non-boater side, top guide (for the boater whose non-boaters collectively catch the most weight), the horizon award (for the most up and coming non-boater) and a rough fish award.

I have really caught a bunch of fish in the past during this tournament and although there is no doubt that I love catching them, it is so much fun to see these guys who fish only once or twice a year to get a hold of a 4 or 5 pound largemouth. It is awesome! So, I headed down Friday morning to try to find some fish to take my non-boaters to, and maybe to catch a few for myself.

Lake Guntersville is an unbelievable fishery. Mainly because of the prolific vegetation. There are literally miles and miles of flats and creeks covered in hydrilla and milfoil. Grass lakes usually produce more and bigger fish because the entire food chain has more cover to protect it. I’m no fisheries biologist, but I sure know that the grass in Guntersville makes for some great fishing.

When I got to the ramp on Friday morning, there was hardly a parking place to be found. The lake was covered in boats practicing for tournaments on Saturday. I eased out onto the main lake and decided to try throwing a spinnerbait on some the famous Guntersville ledges. It didn’t take long before one just crushed my spinnerbait and the battle was on. I lipped the fish and it was over 5 pounds. I spent about another hour doing that and caught 2 more that were pushing 6. I had to laugh at how easy it was. I was calling my buddies chatting on the phone. It was nice to be out there with no pressure, just catching big ones. Of course, the ridiculously competitive side of me kept pushing to see how much I could actually catch. I left the ledges and went to some creeks to try for some shallow fish. As luck would have it. I only got two bites: another 6 pounder and 4.5. So, by 3:00PM, my best 5 were over 25. I went to one other area, where I had really caught them last year and caught 3 more keepers, so I called it a day.

We met that night to talk about the weekend, had a prayer, and met up with our next day partners. I have spent a lot of time at church events and evangelistic meetings in my life. This is completely different. It is obvious that these men care about each other and God, yet it is not an “in your face” call to religion.  It is a comfortable and easy environment where faith is discussed openly but not shoved down anybody’s throat- come to think about it, that’s kind of the way Jesus did it.

The next morning I took Ron Steen and Andy Estes for a 15 mile boat ride up to where I had caught those spinnerbait fish yesterday. I tied them on some lipless crankbaits and worked down the ledge. On the second cast, I caught a 5.2 and another keeper on the 3rd. Unfortunately, they had a little more trouble connecting. Andy lost a nice one. Ron caught a 2.5 pounder, a 5 pound catfish, and lost a big bass. (Note to those of you who might go to G’ville: 10 pound test on a spinning rod is no match for a hydrilla gorilla!) I ended up catching 4 more keepers: a 5.7, a 3.9 and couple of 2.5s. We had a great time laughing and casting and enjoying a beautiful morning.

We headed back to the weigh in and I must admit that, selfishly, I really enjoyed blowing those guys minds with 5 fish that weighed 18.5 in just a four hour session. I got my next two non-boaters, a father and son, neither of whom had spent a lot of time bass fishing. In fact, the son, Josh, had never caught a bass. We headed to an area where I have consistently caught them on a Carolina Rig. I asked if either of them had fished with a C-rig before and they had not. I rigged their rods and set the reels so as to minimize the backlashes. I cast Jeff’s out and explained that he just needed to drag it back and keep contact with the bottom. Before I could get Josh’s rig in the water, Jeff hollered that he had one. He wrestled it to the top and I lipped a 4.2. Some days it’s just not that hard! I caught a couple of keepers, including a 5.7, and it wasn’t long until Josh was wrestling one of his own. I grabbed the net and scooped the fish for him. It was over 4. Not bad for your first bass! After a few pictures, we were back at it. We headed down the bank and I set the hook on a little keeper. Before I could get that one in, Jeff was hollering for the net. It was the biggest bass of his life at 5.74. I think both father and son were pretty happy at this point.

Apart from the fishing, Jeff told me about his job and how God had directed him and provided for his family. Sometimes I get so caught up in catching some little green fish that I don’t stop to hear God’s voice. It was good to be able to share faith with these guys and listen to how God moves in our world and in our daily lives. We caught a few more fish before our session was over, and headed back to the weigh-in. Now my non-boaters were the ones with the big smiles as we lugged a big sack of fish up the hill to the weigh-in. During that four hours, we had two 5.7s, 3 over 4 and 3 3.5s.

I got my pairings for the last session of the day. I was fishing with Aaron Kelley and Mike Davis. I went to college with these guys and although I see them infrequently, we always take up right where we left off. We had an absolute blast. I told them I wasn’t going to fish much, but upon their insistance, I made few productive casts. On our first stop I caught a 4.5 and I told them that was it, I wasn’t fishing anymore. Then on our next stop, I decided to fish a little. I made a long cast with my carolina rig and when it hit the bottom, one rocked it and dropped it. That was certainly different than how they had been biting. When I started to move the rig, the fish came back and took it. I set the hook and immediately knew that this one was different. “This is a big one,” I told Aaron and Mike. My rod bowed and my drag slipped. Aaron asked, “Do you want the net?”

“Nah, I’ll get her.” About that time the fish jumped and it was certainly bigger than anything I’d caught thus far. “OK, go ahead and get the net.” After fighting her back to the boat and almost getting pulled in as she surged under the Triton, Aaron netted her. She turned out to be 7.34. At this point, by best five for the day totalled 27.96 (my personal best). Now I really wasn’t fishing anymore….. Of course I still picked up my rig a couple times and accidently caught a couple more keepers. Aaron ended up catching two nice ones and although he fished hard, Mike didn’t catch one. I was dissappointed and almost ashamed at what I had caught when he didn’t catch any.

The wind had been howling all day- 25 mph out of the SW- a bad wind for Guntersville. About 5:30, it just laid down. As we were cruising back in, laughing and joking about our day, I looked west to see the sun behind some small clouds with bright beams of light cutting holes in the clouds and blazing down to the water. There must have been 35 thick beams of light extending 360 degrees from the core which was mostly obscured by the cloud. It was an absolutely incredible sight and one which I won’t ever forget. I thought that that must have been what it was like when Jesus calmed the storm: the lake was like glass and the sun was melting the clouds. I am so fortunate to get to spend so much time in God’s creation, but unfortunately, I am often so caught up in myself that I fail to see what He has made. I get so focused tournament fishing that I don’t take a moment to “Be still, and know that I am God.” It was such a great experience this weekend to get to spend time with some great men and to experience what it’s really all about! Oh yeah, I got to reel in a few biguns too!

Until next time,

He ain’t got it in his hands.

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com

If you like to fish for fun or for competition, you’ve probably had one of those days where it just didn’t happen. You lose the big one. Your line breaks. The fish you found in practice disappear and you have to scramble all day. Hopefully though, you’ve also experienced a day where it all happened right. The big ones stay pegged. You figure out exactly what how they want the bait. It seems like you can call your shots. Unfortunately, for most of us, there are more of the former, and less of the latter.

I’ve been fortunate to win some tournaments and do reasonably well fishing competitively, but I can tell you that I’ve never had two days of fishing like I had this past Friday and Saturday. Here’s the story….

My regular fishing partner, Jason Sain, and I were planning on fishing the Professional Bass Fishermen tournament on Kentucky Lake on April 12. I paid our money and we talked on Monday about our plans for the weekend. Unfortunately, Jason had something come up and called me after I had already sent in the entry fee to let me know that he couldn’t fish. I was sort-of in a quandry. The entry fee was non-refundable and I really wasn’t looking forward to the tournament. The water on KY Lake and Barkley was about 8 feet above summer pool due to all the recent rains, muddy, and my thought was that the bass would be pretty unpredictable. I mulled-over what I should do for a little while, but finally decided to try to find a stand-in for Jason. I ended up getting a friend of mine, Pat Hatcliff, to agree to make the trip. Pat couldn’t practice on Friday, but I knew with the conditions as they were, we would have to spend some serious time finding some fish that would hold up. An old friend of mine, Mickey Noel, lives in Kentucky and although he hasn’t fished much in the past several years, agreed to ride around with me on Friday.

When I met Mickey at the ramp, water was absolutely everywhere. In yards, in parking lots, and way back in the trees. We fished around for a few hours with only one bite. About 10 AM, we pulled into an area and started getting a few bites. We caught several fish in the 3 pound class fairly quickly. It was fun, but I told Mickey that there was no way 3 pounders would do me much good in this tournament. Based on the reports I’d been hearing on Kentucky Lake, I was sure it would take 24-25 pounds to win and 17 or 18 to get a check. We made a little move and quickly got some more bites, and they started getting bigger. We were flipping outside, standing trees and bushes and as soon as we pulled up to the next bank, I caught a 3.5 pound largemouth. We fished another 10 minutes and I caught a four pounder. Before I could get that one in the boat, Mickey set the hook on a 3.5. We were on to something.

I decided to back off of this area, so I put the Motorguide on high and went about 200 yards down the bank. As soon as I stopped, I pitched next to a tree and my bait started swimming off. This one felt big, so I let her swim until she dropped it. I made another pitch 10 yards down the bank and another swam off with it. This one felt little, so I set the hook. It was a 5 pounder. I fished another 100 yards got 4 more bites and set on one of them which was about 4.5. That was all I needed to see. We left that area. I knew they were there. I ran to another similar area got three or four bites and set on one of them- another 5 pounder. We left there, ran about a mile, and Mickey caught two solid 2-3 pounders behind me, then I caught another 5 pounder. I hate catching them on Fridays!

I told Mickey that I just couldn’t believe the quality of fish we were catching. I ran up the lake 10 miles and tried to duplicate it, but we didn’t get a bite. Finally, about 3:30, I decided to fish another similar-looking bank close to where I had found all those other fish. We quickly boated a couple of 3 pounders and I decided that I had seen enough. We put the Triton on the trailer. Mickey wished me good luck and I headed for the motel.

When Pat met me that night, I was trying to keep my excitment under control. Afterall, I’ve played this game before. I’ve been on good fish before and not caught them on game day. I knew I was around the kind of fish to win this thing, but maybe even more exciting than winning was how many bites I was getting flipping. I love to flip flooded cover. There is nothing like dropping a jig into a bush, the line jumping, and wrestling a 5 pounder out with the big stick. However, I really don’t flip that much in tournaments, at least not as my primary tactic. I know, I know, Denny Brauer, Tommy Biffle, etc. etc., but usually, I look for fish that I think might be more over-looked: off-shore stuff. But this time, there was no doubt about it, we would live or die with the big stick and the heavy line. I told Pat about the day I’d had. I probably boated 21 pounds without really trying. I hate catching them on Fridays! I told him that I knew where they lived, we’d just have to stick with them on Saturday and hope the big ones would bite. I didn’t sleep too well on Friday night. Again, not that I was that worried about the winning the tournament, I just knew that we had a chance for a really big bag of fish and was hoping that things would hold up, that the weather wouldn’t mess us up too much, that there wouldn’t be too many boats on those fish…..

I was up before the alarm went off on Saturday morning. We were out of the Super 8 before five and ready to blast off long before it was time. If you’ve never fished Ky/Barkley lakes, they are massive impoundments connected by a canal at the far north end. So, most of the time you have the option of fishing either lake. We were running about 40 miles up lake Barkley to our fish. When they let us go, I put the hammer down on the Triton and made the 35 minute run. As I pulled into our area, I didn’t see any boats. I uttered a quick prayer of thanks! There was one boat, however, right behind us as we pulled in. They stopped on a bank across the cove.

I started on what I thought was the most productive stretch from yesterday. The wind was howling straight into our area and it was very difficult to pitch and flip accurately, keep the boat from crashing into the bushes, and feel anything on the other end of the line. We fished 200 yards without a bite. I was beginning to wonder where they had moved to, when things got a little mushy on the other end of my line. I set the hook and boated a 3 pounder. OK- here we go….. I fished another 25 yards and boated another 3 pounder, then a few flips later caught one about 2.5. Within five more minutes, I landed another 3 pound fish and Pat added our 5th keeper. It was 7:45. Not bad, but certainly not the size we needed. We fished another 20 minutes without a bite but then we hit another little flurry. I caught a 4 and 4.5 in short order, and we started culling. The time was now about 8:30 and I was feeling pretty dang good. I knew the type of fish that were in this area and we had all day to catch them. I really fish much better when I’m relaxed like that. Unfortunately, it’s not every tournament that you have 18 or 19 pounds at 8:30.

We fished until we met the other boat and turned around. As we went back through the area where I caught the two good ones, Pat hollered for the net. The fish dove under the boat and I thought it was a 3 pounder, but when she came out, she had grown to a 5 pounder. I netted her and knew now that we were knocking on the 20 pound door. I was running the boat and getting first shot at all of the prime spots, so naturally, I was catching more than Pat. I teased him that since that 5 pounder was the only one he had in the livewell, I was going to cull it! He just laughed and said, “Buddy, if you cull that one, I’ll be thrilled to death!”

We jumped around for the next couple of hours and caught a bunch of fish. What a blast catching 3 pounders at will! Unfornately, none of them helped us, as we had a 3.25, 3.5, 4, 4.5 and 5 in the box. About 10:30, we ran back to the area where we started. I sat the boat down and dug out an energy bar. I put the Motorguide in the water, made a pitch, and took a bite of my snack. As I fought the wind and munched, there was a solid thump on my jig. I whacked him and could tell that this one was a good one. She came out of the bush and surged under the boat. “Man these suckers can pull!” I horsed her to the top and Pat slid the net under her. This one was over 5. I grinned and said, “We’ve only got about 4 more hours!”

We made our way down the bank and caught a couple that didn’t help. I pitched next to a tree and saw the line jump, only to break off setting the hook. I had just retied, and this was new 25 pound P-line. I must have had a bad spot in the line, and although it was probably just a 3 pound fish, I hoped this one wouldn’t come back to haunt us. Another 15 minutes went by without a bite, but we were having a blast. Fishing sure is fun when you’ve got 22 pounds in the livewell. I was laughing or joking or making fun of Pat when another one smacked my jig. I gave it all I had with the hookset and this one pulled hard! “Big un! Get the net,” I screamed. In short order, we had another 5 plus in the boat and I was culling our last fish under 4. This was getting stupid, it was still only about 11:00 o’clock. I really started letting Pat have it about culling his five pounder! We were catching them so well, that I knew that other people probably were too. The reality that we might win started to set in. I figured we needed 25 to be pretty confident, and we probably had about 24. I was probably thinking more about what was in the livewell than what my jig was doing and as I started to reel it up to make another pitch, it started moving off. I didn’t really even set the hook. I just kept reeling and pulled the hook into her. Immediately, she came up and I screamed, “That’s her!” After a few seconds of shear panic, Pat netted her. It was a big pre-spawn fish that looked to be 8 inches wide. “That fish is pushing 7, this is just ridiculous.” I sat down, thanked God, and couldn’t quit laughing. I reached into the livewell grabbed a 4 pounder, and counted the fish three times before letting her go. I knew we had over 25, probably 26 and it was not noon yet.

From that point on, I could only think about getting these fish back to the weigh-in. The wind was gusting to 30 and if you’ve never been on KY Lake, 30mph wind is not your friend. We were due in at 3:23, but by one o’clock we agreed it was time to go. We talked about the liklihood of us bettering our catch versus the possibility of something going wrong on the way in and decided it was time to head for home. We buckled everything down, battened down the hatches, and prepared for a bumpy ride. I turned the ignition to start the motor, but nothing happened. Fortunately, I was prepared for such a situation. I had been running the livewells wide open since 6:30 and had hardly run the big motor. Pat got on the trolling motor to keep us from crashing into the bushes and I attached the jumper cables to one of my trolling motor batteries. In just a few seconds, the Mercury was purring! Thank you Lord. Again!

We made the trip that normally would take about 30 minutes in about an hour. We eased along about 3500 RPMs, stopped frequently to check our fish and got back to KY Dam Marina about 2:00PM. We goofed off and half-heartedly fished for the last hour just hoping that we hadn’t made a stupid mistake by leaving too early. After check-in, we pulled up and tied up next to my friend Adam. He said, “You got ‘em?” Pat and I just grinned. “You got a big sack?” We just kept smiling. “You got a real big sack?” I nodded.

23 something was leading at the time, and I was sure we had more than that. Adam told his partner to take their fish up there, he wanted to watch us sack ours. I pulled them out one by one while Pat held the bag. Adam guessed the weight. The first fish was 4.5. I pulled the second one out. Adam said, “That one’s 5.” The next one came out. “Good grief,” he said, “that one’s 5.” I opened the other livewell, “Now for the big side….” I pulled out the next one and all Adam could say was, “Yeah, that one’s over 5.” Finally, as dramatically as I could, I pulled out the last one. “Good grief, that one’s pushing 7. Y’all are fixin to break some records!”

The scales settled on 26.32 and we won by about 3 pounds and had big fish of the tournament at 6.90. I know it’s not the biggest weight ever brought in, but it was an absolutely incredible day. We had a blast and the adrenelin is still pumping as I type this blog. I’ve won tournaments before and won a lot more money, but I’ve never been on that kind of fish and to catch them flipping made it even better. For those of you who’ve stuck with this entire account, thanks for letting me relive the experience. I just hope that I’ll get to do that a few more time before the Good Lord calls me home!

Until next time,

He ain’t got it in hands!

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com

Every year it seems like spring will never get here. It’s just Mother Nature’s way. She tempts you with a warm 65 degree day in February, then dumps snow on you the next day. But as sure as the sun rises and sets, the days gradually get warmer and the 60 degree days become the rule more than the exception.

In Tennessee, we’ve had a pretty typical spring and as we near the end of March, the days are getting longer, the air is getting warmer, and so is the water. When the water temperature gets above 50 degrees, bass fishing starts (at least for me) to get fun. The bass are at least thinking about getting out of their winter patterns and easing into shallower water. They become a lot more agressive and easier to catch as they make their transistion toward the spawn.

This winter I had talked to a friend of mine, Adam Wagner, about fishing a tournament on March 23. There was going to be a tournament on Cordell Hull Lake. Cordell Hull is a Cumberland River impoundment in eastern, middle Tennessee. There are not many tournaments on the lake and I’d only fished it a handful of times. Adam had fished there plenty and said although he wasn’t sure how to catch a big limit, there would be plenty of fish to be caught.

So, I showed up at the boat ramp on Friday with my Triton in tow to meet Adam and hopefully figure something out. He had been out a couple of afternoons and caught plenty of fish, but the bigger ones were hard to come by. Fortunately, there was no shortage of 12-14 inch fish in this lake. We started out fishing shallow and caught a bunch of fish. The bait didn’t seem to matter too much as we got bites on crankbaits, jigs, spinnerbaits and jerkbaits. Most of the fish were on the smaller side, but I did luck into a 6.5 pounder on a Shadrap and caught a couple of three pounders doing other things. All in all, we had a blast catching a bunch of fish.

When you fish tournaments, and you really fish to win, you can’t ever be content with practice. Trust me, I’ve done it a bunch of times. I’ve thought, “I’m on ‘em. I know what I need to know.” Only to find out that I was on the wrong size fish or didn’t have a good back-up plan. So, with 3 hours left in our practice day, we went looking for something else, something better …. and we found it. In the last two hours of practice we boated 8 or 9 keepers and two that were right at 7 pounds. The bigger fish seemed to be off the banks a little and we were catching them on a jerkbait. In those couple of hours we seemed to have figured out a way to get some bigger bites and we changed our whole plan.

We took off the next morning with a fair amount of confidence that this could be one of those big days. Anything less than 20 pounds would be dissapointing and 30 was not out of the question. We made our first stop and caught 2 smaller keepers. Just like clockwork, when we got to the point where there should be a big one, my jerkbait stopped, and the drag started slipping. After a few tense moments, we put a six pounder in the box. Oh yeah, it was going to be one of those days. It slowed down some after that. We had a limit in about another hour, but they were small (other than the one good one). After fishing around until about 10AM. We decided to go back to our starting spot. Adam caught a four pounder, 2.5 on the next cast. Our hopes were high again. Unfortunately, that was about it. We caught several more fish, but if they helped our weight it was not by much. As we headed for the weigh-in, I was a little dissappointed. We had a lot of fun, caught a bunch of fish, but didn’t have what it would take to win the tournament.

We weighed our fish and the scales read 15.36; not bad, but not what I had hoped for. As we walked back to the boat someone asked Adam, “Are y’all leading?”

“I think so,” he replied. I look at him. “Are you serious?” I asked him. Evidently, it had been a lot tougher than I thought. When the dust settled, we ended up winning the tournament. It was not the blow out I had hoped for, but a win nonetheless. If you’ve read my blogs in the past, you heard my rants on the importance of decision making in tournament competition. We won that tournament, not based on skill or secret bait, but based on the decision to keep looking for something better during practice. Sure there can always be luck involved, but you won’t win (at least not much) if you don’t do everything in your power to put yourself in the position with the very best chance to do well!

 Until next time,

He ain’t got it in his hands.

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com

If you read my last blog, you know that I was getting ready for some late winter, early spring tournaments- my first of the year. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, pre-spawn is not my time of the year. For some reason, I have struggled to catch them consistently when the water is below 50 degrees. I know they are out there. I know people catch them. But I have always struggled. So prior to my first tournament on Feb 16th, I spent some time looking around the lake, studying past results, and trying to create the most likely game plan to give me a chance at doing well. After practicing about a half-day on Friday, I made up my mind. I had one place where I felt like I could catch 2 or 3 keepers first thing in the morning. I’ve done it in the past on that place under the same conditions, and I got three bites in about 15 minutes there during the week, two of which were keepers. After that, I was going to head up-river (where I usually don’t go) and fish shallow the rest of the day. Why? The water temp is 3-5 degrees warmer up lake and the temps were pushing 50. I felt like if I put my head down and made a million casts I would catch some fish, and have a chance to boat some good ones.

We took off at 6:15 and I headed down to my first spot. Like clock-work, about 5 minutes into my fishing, I felt a bite and the fish was moving off with my little shakey-worm. Unfortunately, he dropped it before I could bust him. A few minutes later the same thing happened again. Then I felt another bite, this time I stuck him. Good one! I hollered for the net, only to see the fish boil and the line go slack. OK, not such a spectactular start, but that’s OK. I’ve played this game before and I’ve got all day. I got two more bites there, one dropped it and I broke the line on a piece of wood setting the hook on the other. Alright, so plan A didn’t work so well, on to plan B. I ran up the river and started fishing shallow. On our first stop, my co-angler boated a solid keeper and I put a small keeper in my side on the next stop. It was now about 11:00AM. I fished about 5 more places with nothing to show but a few dinks. At 2:00 PM I pulled into an area where I have consistently caught them. I was due in at 2:30. That stupid negative voice was wearing me out in the back of mind. “One little dink. That’s embarrassing. Your family is coming to the weigh-in and the kids will be very disappointed if this is all you have to show them.” Somehow, I managed to turn down the volume a little on that voice and focus on making the last 30 minutes count. I fished through the area I usually get a few bites with nothing to show for it, so I decided to just keep going. I had never made a cast on this stretch of water, but something about it seemed right. About 2:15 I boated my second keeper and about 2:21 I put a 4 pounder in the livewell with the other two. I wish I had another 30 minutes, but I had to go. I ended up the day in 9th place and got the last check with just under 8 pounds. Turns out it was very tough for a lot of good fishermen today. I was pretty happy to have survived.

Fast forward to last weekend, determined to do better than just survive I spent the day before the BFL tournament fishing off-shore. The weather on Friday was raining and windy, while tournament day was going to be high-pressure, blue skies, no wind- a death sentence for me on a clear upland lake. I figured if I could find some deeper fish, they might hold up for me. I caught a few, but nothing worth coming back to. So, I started this Saturday with the same plan I had two weeks ago. Hoping that somewhere along the way, I’d get that “Light-bulb” bite to tune me in to what was going on.

My starting spot from a couple weeks ago had boats all over it so I started on some bluffs- nothing. I hit a couple of shallow points- nothing. I ran up the river and fished some steep banks- nothing. I fished some brushpiles in 7-10 feet of water- nothing. (you kind of get the drift here don’t you.) About 11:30 I stopped on the bank where I had boated those last minute fish in my last tournament. I finally caught two, but neither would measure. Now I knew it was tough. I’ve had two bites in 4 hours and I haven’t seen another soul boat a fish. I hit several other seemingly likely spots- to no avail. I was frustrated. The livewells were empty and I had an hour to fish. I pulled back on the only place I’d had a bite all day.

If you’ve ever fished tournaments you know this feeling. It’s late in the day and you start to lose your attention to detail. I had two rods on the deck with no lures tied on from breaking off and 6 more with all sorts of junk tied on. The deck of my Triton was a representation of my fishing day and how I was feeling. At 2:01PM, I sat down, put up all that junk but three crank bait rods. I retied each one with the what I felt like was my most-likely option and went to work. Almost immediately, my co-angler hollered for the net. It was his first bite of the day. I grabbed the net, but it was a non-keeper. I jumped back up on the trolling motor made a cast, made about 3 turns of the handle, and the rod loaded. Net. This is a good fish. I tried to keep her down, but she jumped anyway. I brought her around the right side of the boat and into the net she slipped, just as the crankbait fell out of her mouth. “Thank you Lord!” The fish was pushing 5 and although I had nothing to go with her, it really felt pretty dang good to get the skunk out. I fished another 20 minutes with some new-found confidence. Knowing how tough it seemed today, I felt like one more good fish might get me a check. No sooner than I got those words out of my mouth, the rod loaded again. Net! The fish bit on the end of the cast, so my co-angler ran up to the front with the net. Unfortunately, he caught one of my rods and it almost went overboard. He saved that one while I fought the fish up to the boat. In saving the overboard rod, the net landed on top of a rattletrap hooked to the reel, strapped to the deck of the boat. I’m looking out of one eye at a three pounder with one back treble hook stuck in the corner of her mouth and out of the other at my co-angler fighting furiously to untangle a seemingly hopeless mess. The fish surged toward the back of the boat and when it did, I turned the rod to try to get the front treble stuck. Fortunately, I did, just as my net man jumped up and put the net under her.

At this point I needed to throw up, but I kept on hammering. I ended up catching one more short fish before time to head in. As we checked in, I felt pretty good to have survived the day with what I had in the livewell. While I was sure somebody had caught them, I was also pretty sure that it had been tough on many.

Tough was an understatement. As I walked the dock to get my bag and saw a lot of long faces and a few bags with one small fish. I was actually getting some pretty good stares walking by with two decent fish. That’s pretty sad. My fish weighed 7-12 and that took the lead! I knew, of course, that it wouldn’t last but it made me realize how tough it had been. I ended up the day in 5th place and took home a pretty decent check.

I feel the need to reiterate what I said in my last blog. This game ain’t about the magic lure or the magic spot or the magic anything. It’s about decisions. I was fortunate, or lucky, or blessed, to have made the decisions the last couple weeks that put me in the right place at the right time with the highest liklihood of putting a few bass in the box. One of the absolute hardest things to do is to keep your chin up in the last hour of a tournament when you’ve taken a beating all day, but this is the most critical decision-making and focusing time of the entire tournament. I’ve certainly spent some last-hours hauling water, but I’ve also been fortunate a number of times to put key bites in the boat as the minutes ticked down. I hate to sound like Ike, but you can NEVER give up.

Until next time,

He ain’t got it in his hands.

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com 

Although my wife might argue that I spent more time on the lake and in the duck woods than I actually did studying, I really have put in a lot of hours in the classroom. After high-school, I have 11 years of college and grad school to my credit. By no means does all that education make me any better or smarter than anyone else, I just have several cute little pieces of parchment with fancy gold letters on the wall to show for the years in the classroom. Many highly-educated people I know, tend to get further and further from reality the higher their education. I once took a course on Applied Mathematics. I couldn’t then, nor can I now, tell you what applied mathematics is, or why I had to take that class- it was all theortical. I’m pretty sure my professor in that course didn’t have the common sense to reason his way through the most minor day-to-day issue most of us might face, but he could definitely write some serious equations on the board!

Much of higher education is like that, theory, that doesn’t really mean a whole lot in the real world. However, one area of study that I use daily (although with much less detail than I learned in grad school) is statistics.

OK, OK, I know this is myoutdoortv.com….. why are we talking about applied mathematics, statistics, partical physics, etc? Every decision we make in life is based on either data we have collected over time or intuition. When it comes to bass fishing, and especially tournament bass fishing, decisions is what it’s all about. I know, I know, it supposed to be all about the newest magic bait that makes them bite on blue-bird, post-frontal, low-current, no wind, bad moon phase days or the performance Bass boat that beats the competition to honey hole at 92.3 mph. But when it all comes down to it, the bait, the boat, the supercharged x-ray vision electronics and the best graphite sticks in the world, won’t fill your weigh-in bag at the end of the day without some good decision making, no matter how many patches you have on your tournament shirt.

I’m not saying that I’ve never had “one of those feelings” payoff in a tournament, but more often than not, I’m a data-based, statistical, percentage, analytical type of fisherman. I guess it comes from my years in science, but in my little brain, I believe that if I can understand as many of the variables as possible, surely success will follow. I analyze (often over-analyze) the weather, water temperature, depth, structure, maps (and anything else I can overanalyze) to formulate a plan that I feel will give me the highest statistical probability for success. My tournament philosophy is to play the percentages as best as I possibly can to stack the odds in my favor.

Let me give a few examples: Here’s any easy one, let’s say you have a tournament on a classic summertime ledge lake like Kentucky Lake or Eufaula (at least the way Eufaula used to be). If you go back and look at past results from the weeks leading up to your tournament, even prior years, you’ll know that you better have your deep water/ ledge fishing game on. Not to say that nothing else will possibly work to catch a bass, but the probability is that the tournament is going to be won off-shore and unless you have an abnormal fear of floating around out in the middle of the lake, that’s where you should be looking to stack the odds in your favor.

That one is pretty clear cut, but let’s take a trip several miles back up the Tennessee River to Lake Guntersville. Now let’s say that you have a tournament in September. You go online. You do the research. It seems like you’d better be fishing ole kermit over the mats, right? But then you find out that there is a deep-ledge bite going on here too, there is a flippin bite, a spinnerbait bite…. How do you assimilate that into your little statistical analysis? Obviously there is no perfect formula, and obviously if there were, and I knew it, I wouldn’t be typing on a stupid keyboard, I’d be getting ready for the BassMaster’s Classic next week. Back to Guntersville in September, now that you have several ideas in your head, you have to look at the percentages to make your plan. If you like to fish a frog and know some good places to try it, start there and expand, fish your strength. On the other hand if you’ve never caught a bass flippin grass and you’ve got one day to learn, even if you know that is what it will take to win the tournament, the odds are not in your favor to master it in one day.

What I’m trying to say here is look at the variables, play through the possible scenarios and percentages in your mind, and pick the MOST LIKELY route to acheiving your goals. If your goal is to win, you had best be Flippin that big jig on G’ville or fishing a deep river ledge on KY Lake. If your goal is to finish decent and get some points, fish your strength go with a technique that has a high probability of success.

Which brings me to today, February 12, 2008. I have a tournament on Percy Priest lake on Saturday. I have really done pretty well on Priest by most standards. I don’t know how many tournaments I’ve won, but I’ve won a few. But never, ever, have I won one in February or early March. So, I’ve spent the last week analyzing (or over-analyzing) what I’ve done in the past and trying to make corrections to my past faulty game plans. First off, I have to know my goal. My goal is to put myself in a position with a chance to win. Secondly, I have to select a technique and area of the lake for the current conditions, that gives me that chance. Unfortunately, I don’t have any idea where that highest percentage area is. Afterall, I’m terrible in February and March on Priest. So, I’ve narrowed it down to flipping a jig, a shallow crankbait, a medium crankbait, a deep crankbait, a jerkbait, a shakeyhead, a spinnerbait, and oh yeah, my latest crazy plan… a grub (thanks for the help JD). Well narrowed it down might be a little strong, I also might throw a rattletrap or a drop-shot. “Hey doc, what about the percentages?” Ultimately success will depend on the decisions I make on tournament day and what technique I feel give me the highest likelihood of finishing well. Right now, I’m not sure what direction that will be, but fortunately, I have a couple of days at the end of the week to gather a little data. Just know this, if I take off on Saturday moring with all of those rods strapped to the front deck of the Triton, statistically speaking….. I’m toast!

Until next time,

He ain’t got it in his hands.

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com 

As I look out of my office window, it is a dreary 37 degrees. It snowed a little last night for the first time this year in Tennessee. As the winter’s grip tightens and the weather channel is calling for several days of sub-freezing temperatures, I can hardly sit still thinking about the tournament season cranking up.

Many of my friends fish tournaments all winter. The fishing is actually pretty good when it’s cold if you can stand the chill and know where to look for the fish. Thus far, I have been pretty strong and resisted the temptation to hook up the Triton. I spent a wonderful Christmas with my family, have worked several boat shows for my sponsor Clark Marine (www.clarkmarine.com), and I’ve even snuck out duck hunting a couple of days. With as many tournaments as I fish during the year, I really try to be home as much as I can in the winter. This has greatly reduced my time in the duck blind, but I want to and need to spend this time with my wife and kids.

Now before I pull a muscle patting myself on the back, let me say that I am getting a little cabin fever and I’m ready to hit the water soon. The boat show season always gets me ready for that. Although Clark Marine had a pretty good show last week and I talked to some “buyers,” much of the time at shows is spent standing around talking fishing. “What are you fishing this year?” “What tournament trails look the best?” “What happend to you at the regional?” Ouch.

I am planning on fishing the BFLs, BASS weekend series, and at least one team trail. That makes for a pretty tight fishing schedule. Every year, about July, I tell myself that next year I am going to back off. Next year I’ll fish less tournaments. Next year….. Yet every January is just like the last. I sit and plot and plan and try to squeeze every tournament I can into my schedule. There has got to be some type of medication for people like me!

As I (and many others with my disease) prepare to start another tournament season, I always like to set goals for myself. As I’ve heard many times, aim for nothing, and you’ll hit it. I usually spend some quiet time reflecting on my fishing and where I want to go and then write out some specific things that I want to accomplish. This year, I figured why not share that on the world wide web. Some of my goals are lofty, some are a little more down-to-earth, but here goes….

1. Win a points title- This is always a goal I set for myself. I’ve achieved it a few times on team trails, but I still haven’t checked it off of my list for individual events (if you want to know the painful story read “Tie Breaker” a few blogs ago.)

2. Win a BASS weekend series tournament- I accomplished that this year, but that was before Triton decided to kick in another $5000 if you are fishing out of a Triton/Mercury boat. That’s a cool $10,000 for winning one day event. This is a pretty selfish goal, but having just started a business, that money would be very helpful in my house.

3. No more line breaking- I know, I know, the one that got away… we all know that story. But I broke off due to a mental and mechanical error in my fishing, about 7 or 8 times in tournaments last season. Many of those were on really key fish that would have made a big difference in how I finished. Sure there are days when fish come unbuttoned and there is nothing I can do about it, but when I repeatedly broke the line setting the hook on fish swimming off with a big jig, there is no doubt that it cost me a lot of money last year. So, I think I’ve fixed the problem and my goal is to make it through the season without breaking off like that anymore.

4. Use every minute of the tournament day- Do you ever have that dream where you are supposed to be fishing or meeting someone somewhere, but you just can’t get it together? It ends up that the tournament is over and I’m just getting my fishing rods out.  I guess that’s the anal-rententive coming out in me, but I absolutely detest wasting time during a tournament, or even practice for that matter. I like to have my tackle organized and rigged such that I can take every advantage of every minute of the day- no wasted motions. That is my goal every time I blast off.

5. Practice smarter- Have you ever spent a day practicing for a tournament and gotten 50 bites doing the exact same thing? I have, and I consider that a mistake. Unless I am completely certain about the pattern I am going to fish, I want to spend more time looking for a back-up plan. Bites on practice day don’t count in case you were wondering. Instead of finding 20 places I can catch fish on one bait, I’d rather find 2 patterns that I know I could catch five fish each. Then, come go-time, if plan A that I got 50 bites on dies, I can go to a completely different plan and hopefully make something happen.

6. Know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em- We’ve all done this. It’s noon, I’ve got two fish in the box. My plan A has only worked so-so. What do I do? Do I scrap everything and scramble for 3 hours, or do I grind it out for three more bites? I don’t know how to answer that question. Nobody answers it right everytime, but there are guys that do it more often than the rest of us, and they are the ones holding the wood up at the end of the day. I know 10 times more about bass fishing than I did 5 years ago, yet my results today are sometimes not as good as they were five years ago. Why? On the water decisions…. this is what seperates the pros from the wannabes.

Let me give you two examples from my memory of when I did it right and wrong-

Several years ago I fished a BFL regional on Lake Eufaula, AL. During the two day practice, I figured out that fish were on river channel ledges and would crush a big crankbait. I was as confident going into that tournament as I have ever been for any tournament. It was so easy in practice. On day 1, one by one, I hit the ledges I’d found, and one by one, left with an empty livewell. At 12:30, with two hours to fish I started to go to plan B, which was fishing riprap, but something made me stay out on those same ledges I’d been pounding. At 1:00, I caught keepers on 7 casts in a row on the big crankbait and ended up catching about 4-5 more after that before weigh-in. I went on to finish 2nd in the event and never picked up another rod. Good decision.

Last spring, in the 2nd BFL on my home lake, Percy Priest, I had a very solid plan. I was going to try to pick up a couple of shallow fish early, then spend the entire rest of my day throwing a jerkbait for big fish. I knew the jerkbait would only produce about five or six bites, but they would be good ones and give me a chance to win. Once we were underway, my plan started to come together. Although I only caught one fish on my early morning, shallow bite, it was a big one (6-2). I headed for my jerkbait fish at about 8:30 and quickly boated a 3 pounder. I just knew I’d win it. I got three more bites on the jerkbait before noon. All big. All came off. Instead of sticking to my guns, I started running around the lake like my hair was on fire trying one thing, then another. The floor of my boat looked like a terrorist had attacked Bass Pro Shop. I ended up with just those two fish. Had I stuck to my jerkbait, I feel confident I’d have put two or three more in the box. Bad decision.

So, I set goals for myself, and whether I reach them or not, I have a plan in mind. I plan for success this season. I plan to fish smart. I plan to fish efficiently. I plan to make good decisions on the water. What do you plan to do? 

Aim at nothing, and you’ll hit it everytime.

Until next time, he ain’t got it in his hands!

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com 

Fall fishing. Open any Bassmaster or FLW Fishing Magazine and you’ll read about the glorious days of fall on the nation’s bass lakes. Limits of big bass, topwater explosions, beautiful fall colors painting a breath-taking backdrop on lakes void of PWC and other annoying sounds, what a time to be on the water….. Ahh, this is the life….. Then I woke up at Fort Loudoun.

I spent the last week, six out of seven days, on the water. To be truthful, the weather was pretty good, the trees were reasonably fantastic and the fish (albeit small ones) were biting. Fort Loudoun/Tellico lakes are at the head waters of the Tennessee River just east of Knoxville, TN. The lakes are clear and relatively deep with some of the most amazing houses and boats I have ever seen. (Thank goodness the UT/ Alabama game was in Tuscaloosa this week). The BFL regional was Thursday- Saturday. I got there last Saturday and spent the day in more or less a pre-practice mode. I fished Tellico lake all day and had two keepers to show for it. Most of the better (if you can call them that) tournament bags had been coming from Loudoun, so after that, I just made up my mind that I would spend the rest of my practice on Loudoun. I left my boat at a friend’s house and drove home to hang out with the family and go to church on Sunday, then left at 3:00AM on Monday morning to spend the week trying to qualify for my 3rd All American.

After picking up my boat, I spent the day on the lower end of Loudoun. The weather was hot, clear and no wind- perfect for fishing ledges. I have been blessed to have done really well in the other three BFL regionals I fished, with 2nd, 9th, and 1st place finishes. The 2nd and 1st came off-shore, fishing ledges. In my pre-practice evaluation, I told myself that if I were going to do well, it would be fishing my strength. I had watched the long-range forecast fairly closely and with the weather forcast to be hot and sunny through the tournament, I was sure that this was the way to go.

I probably didn’t burn 3 gallons of gas on Monday and had quite a few bites. I caught some of them and although they weren’t big, I boated a few keepers and felt pretty good about what I had found. I figured I could go out there and catch 4-5 keepers for 6-8 pounds. I realize that doesn’t seem like much of a lofty goal, but I figured that it would take about 6 pounds a day to make the top six and about seven pounds a day to win.

Some friends and I rented a house in Tellico Village. Aside from having to do some creative parking with 5 trucks and boats, it was a great place to stay. We were about 10 minutes from the ramp and had plenty of room. That night everybody’s stories were about the same, 1-2 keepers, lots of short fish. I was pretty comfortable that what I had found on Monday was pretty strong relative the stories I was hearing from everyone else.

I was on the lake before daylight on Tuesday. I spent sometime fishing some more deep ledges and had the same results. Small fish, maybe a few keepers, but anywhere I could find a steep drop from 13 or 14 to 25 feet with stumps or brush, I would get bit. I decided to start looking for another pattern. Rain and storms were creeping into the forecast for Thursday and Friday and I was affraid that my deep stuff would peter out. I spent the next day and a half trying to find some good fish doing something different, but I didn’t. I caught fish on a jig, dropshot, spinnerbait, flippin, topwater, crankbait, shakey-head, and carolina rig. They were all small.

When my head hit the pillow on Wednesday night, I had no idea what I should do. The weather was forecast to be windy, rainy and storming- great for shallow fish, terrible for my deep spots. My mind was racing. My friend and roommate for the week, Adam Wagner, had figured out how to catch some better fish. He told me what he was doing. I knew that I could probably do better if I tried to fish like he was, but I also knew that I’d get in his way.

In this game of tournament fishing, you can make some great friends, or lose your best friend, depending on how you act. I know many guys who have come to blows over fishing holes, “secret spots,” and running their pie-holes too much. I am fortunate to have two friends, great fisherman, who I trust completely, Adam and Jason Sain. Although I am fortunate to have a lot of other friends that I fish tournaments with and against, I trust Jason and Adam, believe what they tell me is the truth, and know I can tell them anything and it will help them, but not hurt me. I didn’t want to mess Adam up by trying to fish the area he was in, so I just decided to go to my deep fish and live and die with them, even though I felt more like I’d die out there.

I drew a very friendly guy from Murray, KY, Chris McNeely, as a co-angler and he talked my ear off all day. We caught quite a few fish from my deep spots, but the only keeper of the day fell to Chris’ carolina rig. I stuck with it all day and fished very efficiently, I just wasn’t in the right place. Adam ended up in second, which made it even more important for me to stay off of his stuff on Friday. So when my co-angler asked me what we’d be doing on Friday, I told him I wasn’t sure.

I headed up Fort Loudoun bright and early on Friday morning. I made few stops on stuff I’d fished in practice, then threw all that out the window and just went practicing. I saw a point with some shad on it, threw my shakey-head in there, and caught my first keeper of the tournament. I caught another one on the next cast and began to think that things were turning around for the home team. Unfortunately, from that point on, there were no more keepers. We ended up catching a bunch of fish. Kyle caught one keeper on a lipless crankbait. As I headed for the weigh-in, I was disappointed in my finish, but not in how I had approached the week. I tried to fish my strength because I knew that if it worked, I’d have a real shot at the top six. When it failed, I went out there and hammered away every second of those two days, never got down, and stayed focused. It just wasn’t my tournament.

Adam made the cut in 4th, his partner, Terry Steele made it in 8th and another friend, Pat Hatcliff, made the cut in 11th. I wish I could’ve seen Pat’s eyes when his co-angler netted a 6-10 largemouth for him on Friday. That was the fish that got him in the cut.

I don’t think I’ve ever done this in the blog, but I have to give props to one of my sponsors, Hoppy’s Lures. Although I didn’t fish a spinnerbait much, Terry and Adam caught their fish on Hoppy’s spinnerbaits that we made up sitting at the kitchen table at our rental house. Thanks for the spinnerbaits John, even though I wasn’t bright enough to throw one!

That’s another year in the books. I was fortunate to win several tournaments, I almost won the points, and I caught more big fish that I ever have. Most of all I am fortunate to have my family, health and faith. My prayers go out to David Young and his family who was involved in a boat crash on KY Lake during that regional. It could’ve just have easily been any of us. 

Til next time….. He ain’t got it in hands! 

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com 

September. Summer draws to a close. School busses pick up the children to start a new year of academic enlightenment. In the world of competitive bass fishing, the entire nation sits on the edge of their collective seats as an unbelievable tournament season draws to a close. The final tournament of the regular season will decide the angler of the year. It all comes down to this: two road weary, veterans of the bass wars duke it out for bass fishing’s highest honor.

What? Skeet and VanDam? Who are they? Naturally I’m talking about the Music City division of the BFL….. Isn’t that what everyone across the nation is talking about this morning around the water cooler? I know my phone has been ringing non-stop. The drama that on-folded on the bass fishing wasteland that is Old Hickory Lake this past weekend will be talked about for years to come. Ok, so maybe I’m exaggerating slightly, but here’s the story:

I started fishing the BFL in 2003. This is my fourth full-season. In the past three seasons, I have finished 6th, 9th, and 21st in the points. I set myself the goal this year to be on top at the end of the season. If you look back to my blog after the first BFL of the year in February, you’ll read about my moment of clarity, when, with an empty livewell at 11:30,  I realized that I had to focus on winning the points. So, here we are, seven months later and I am entering the last tournament of the year in second place, 14 points out of first, and 7 in front of 3rd place.

The “Super-tournament” took place on Old Hickory Lake, just north of Nashville. Old Hickory has, in my opinion, not been a great tournament lake for the past several years. Of course, some big stringers come in the spring, but in the late summer and fall, it is very tough. 10 pounds has been golden on the Hick the last few weeks and zeros on the scoreboard seem to be as plentiful as 11-13 inch non-keepers. 

I originally had planned to lock through the dam and fish the Cumberland River.  Although the big smallmouth that prowl below the dam are somewhat difficult to catch this time of year, the spotted bass are not and they only have to be 12 inches to keep. However, when I received my tournament confirmation the notification said “no locking.” So, I just put that out of mind and began worrying about how I would catch some fish on Old Hickory. I practiced a half day on Wednesday and Thursday and most of the day on Friday. During my time on the water, I caught close to 100 bass flippin, pitching, crankin, topwater, rattletrap, carolina rig… you name it, I caught them on it. Out of those 100 bass, 3 were keepers. Pretty good huh? I love this lake.

I had a plan. I had narrowed my fishing down to one area of the lake. I had caught all of my keepers there. On Friday, I didn’t set the hook on 7 or 8 bites that felt to be bigger than 12 inches. I figured I could spend all day, make 2000 casts and hopefully come out with 2 or 3 keepers. Not much to hope for, but it beat a big zero, which still loomed as a distinct possibility.

At the pre-tournament meeting at Wal-Mart in Gallatin, the tournament director annouced some disturbing news. He would allow the field to lock. At first, I just ignored that possibility, but the longer the meeting went on, the more I thought about it. I called a buddy who fished down in the river a bunch for his opinion. He said he would definitely lock that 5 pounds should be easy down there. Now, setting a goal of 5 pounds sound pretty terrible (and it is) but 5 pounds a day in this tournament would earn you a good check and likely win the points. I didn’t sleep much on Friday night going through the various scenarios, but I finally reach a point where I decided that if I locked through, the liklihood of zeroing was probably pretty low, while in the lake, it’s a 50/50 proposition. Also, I figured if I could catch 5-6 pounds pretty easily, I’d lock back up and have 3 hours to fish for a big bite. My mind was made up.

We took off at 6:18 from Bull Creek and I arrived at the dam at 6:36. My co-angler pulled the lock chain, and the lock master let us in. Two other boats tied up with us. After a quick drop of about 40 feet, the gate opened, the horn sounded, and we were off to find fame and fortunate in the form of 5 12 inch spotted bass. (This is the stuff of legend….)

I ran about 20 minutes to downtown Nashville and made my first stop. Within minutes, I had a 12.5 inch Kentucky in the livewell. Five minutes later, I wrestled a 2 pound smallmouth into the net. OK, I’ve been fishing for 10 minutes and I have 3 1/2 pounds. I’m going to have a limit by 9:00 and lock back up. This plan is working perfectly! However, the fish got smaller from that point. I caught about 15 more, all too short to keep. At about 10:30 after throwing back all those little ones, I decided it was time to head back. I’d make a few more stops on the way back to the lock. I stopped right below LP field to fish some barge tie-ups. I was about to reel my bait in when if felt mushy, I started to feel faster, and it started pulling back. This was a better fish. I hollered for the net, just in time to see the 2 pound spotted bass swirl next to the boat and spit my bait out. I knew that would cost me.

I fished about 3 more spots on the way back up and caught some more short fish, but no keepers. I locked back up and had 1 hour to fish. I hit a couple of places with the carolina rig to no avail. These places had been stacked with fish (albeit small ones) on Friday and not a bite today. I decided to move a little shallower. I pulled up to a bank where I caught a 4 pounder in practice. The wind was hitting it. The water was stained. It was perfect. I cast my little crank bait a few times just knowing that this would be it. 30 minutes left. I turned the reel handle about 3 times and my bait stopped and started pulling slowly the other way. This was a big one. I reeled and tried to keep her from jumping, hollering for the net and praying that it would stay hooked. After about 20 seconds, I felt the line go slack and the crankbait started wobbling again. NOOOO! As tough as the bite seemed, now I had lost 2 keepers.

I fished as hard as I could to the very last minute and made a 15 minute run back to the weigh-in. I knew I had let the points championship slip away. I tied up to the dock and the points leader, Mickey Beck, idled-up. “Can you beat 15 pounds?” he said. I knew that was a lie, so I said, “Sure I got that.” Then he shocked me and held up a zero. “Are you kidding, nothing?” I knew he was crushed, but he was a very good sport about it. There was a slim, ray of hope.

Drew Boggs stood behind me in the bag line. “What have you got?” he asked. “I got two babies,” I said. He said that he had two as well, but one was big. My fish weighed 3 pounds 4 ounces, his weighed 6, 5.  He made the cut to fish the last day and I went home in 21st place. When I got home, I did the math. He was 7 points behind me. That meant in order for me to win, he would have to zero on Sunday and finish 15th or worse. 14th would put us in a tie. Not likely. I pretty well accepted that I had let it slip away.

I went to church with Melanie and the kids, ate lunch, and watch the Titans lose a nail-biter to Indy. I was anxiously awaiting weigh-in time to hear the final verdict. At 2:45 I called my friend Trent Peterson who was fishing today. He proudly told me that he hadn’t caught a keeper, but neither had Drew. I said he’d call back after the weigh-in. I went up to the computer and re-calculated. He would have to come in 14th for the tie and 15th or 16th for me to win. Wait a minute, what if we tied? Would we split the money? What would happen? I pulled up the FLWoutdoors website and read the rules. The first time I didn’t see it, but after some serious looking, I found it. “Ties will be resolved based on total weight for the season.” Awesome! I knew that I had more weigh than he did for the year. I looked that up on the website as well. My total for 5 tournaments was 44 pounds 2 ounces, Drew’s was 45 pounds 4 ounces. My heart sank. I doubted he would finish worse than 14th. After an hour of pacing back and forth, the phone rang.

“You finished second on the tie-breaker,” Trent announced, “Sorry.”

I am so frustrated to have come so close. It cost me $1000, but more than that, I was so close to accomplishing a goal I have had for myself for several years. Not to take anything away from Drew. He won fair and square and he is a great fisherman. I just hate that it came out like it did. I wish he had smoked them the second day and blown me away, instead of making me lose in a tie breaker.

They all better look out at the regional next month, because I’m gonna crush them and make it back to the All American. Maybe that will take some of the sting out of finishing as the first-place-loser!

By: David Gnewikow

www.davidgfishing.com 

Most of the southern US is in the middle of a major heat wave, with the mercury hovering around the 100 degree mark in my neck of the woods. The surface temp on the lakes around here is about 90-92 during the heat of the day and in the mid-80s at night. The temperature of the carpet on the deck of my Triton is right about 900 degrees if you stand in one place for long. On top of the heat, our part of world has been in a pretty significant drought all year. Lake levels are lower than usual, but more importantly for the fishing, there has been no current.

Lack of current does a couple of bad things to reservoirs. First, it scatters the fish and baitfish. Bait fish, like shad, tend to hold tighter to cover during generation. Bass, in turn, tend to be more structure -elated as the food chain pulls them to places where current is flowing or current breaks. With no current, the bait fish meander aimlessly away from my favorite structure and the bass follow. Although they may still be in the same general areas, they are harder (at least for me) to pin down. The second major thing that lack of current does to a reservoir is reduces the oxygen levels in the water. Moving water contains more oxygen and disperses more oxygen throughout the water column. Hot, stagnant water holds less oxygen, especially deeper.

So, the shad are spread out, there is no current, there is not much oxygen in deep water, and the shallow water is 179 degrees, let’s have a bass tournament! That’s what we did last weekend on Percy Priest. My friend, Adam Wagner, and I fished the Renegade tournament out of Fate Sanders. I took a little time to practice and found a couple of ways to catch a few fish. I was catching some on the edge of flats in 5-7 feet of water in the upper part of the lake, and I was getting a few bites in deep brush on the lower end of the lake. My plan was to hit the uplake stuff early and hope to get 2-3 good keepers, then fish deep brush the rest of the day, hoping for 3 fish in the 4-6 pound class. From many past tournament experiences on Priest, I knew it would take in the 20-23 pound range to win. This lake is absolutely amazing for the amount of fishing pressure it receives.

We took off at 6 AM Saturday morning. The temperature was a crisp 81 degrees and the humidity was 159%. I made a short run and we caught 3-4 short fish. After about 20 minutes of that, I ran to spot #2 and, in short order, put a 3 pounder in the box. We jumped around on a few other places, but couldn’t get anything to go. Adam said that he had a place where he had caught them in the past, so I ran to his hole. We fished for about 30 minutes and added a 2.5 pounder to the livewell. So far, it’s pretty slow for us… That’s OK, I knew where some big ones were living in brushpiles.

We fished 4 of my brushpiles with nothing to show for it. I pulled up on another one and fished 360 degrees around it. I threw the big worm and Adam threw a jig. Right as I was about to pull up the Minn Kota, his rod bowed with a big fish. The fish pulled hard and didn’t jump. I was worried that it was a hybrid. Finally he got her to the boat and we could see that it was a big smallmouth. She really didn’t want to ride in my Triton as everytime she’d almost get in netting range, she’d surge back down. Finally, she got a little too close and I scooped her up. It was 4+, long, skinny brown fish.

OK, so now it’s 11AM and we have 3. Two more big ‘uns and we’ll have a shot at winning this thing. We jump around for another couple hours on what I consider “big fish spots,” catching next to nothing. By now the pleasure boats are doing doughnuts around us and laughing at the idiots standing on a boat with no seats casting into the 185degree water.

At 1:00 PM I decided to abandon the brushpile bite, as it was going no where fast. We pull up to deep rock ledge and we both are throwing the jig. We have been basically dragging it on the bottom all day, so I decided to try to “stroke” it. After a few casts, a fish hammers my jig on the fall, but I missed it (or it missed me). A few casts, later, the same thing happens. A few casts later, yet again, as my jig is falling I see my line jump. I hammered the hook home, but this time it stuck. “Net. Good one,” I grunted. A fish that looked to be 7 pounds jumped and was quickly in the net. Unfortunately, between the first jump and the net, she shrunk to be about 5.5, but still a good fish, and number 4.

We stayed on that place for another 30 minutes, only catching a couple dinks. It was now 2 PM and we had to weigh in at 3:00. We had 3 good fish and a keeper that would weigh about 15 pounds altogether, so another good one or two and we’d be right where we needed to be. I told Adam that I had another brushpile I wanted to try and called “last cast.” Adam threw as far as he could off the back of the boat and hopped the jig back. About the third hop, a fish hit his jig but wouldn’t hold on. “How many are we going to miss today?” he kept hopping the jig back to the boat and about 30 seconds later I see his rod load. This looked like a good fish. He got her to the boat and I could see that the fish was pushing 4 pounds. I netted her and we put the 5th one in the boat. Finally, a limit! At that point, we decided to just stay put for the rest of the day. At about 2:20 I hear Adam holler, “Got him,” and I rushed for the net. It was another good fish and after about pulling his arm out of socket, I netted a 5 pounder. We culled the 2.5 and I knew we were knocking on the door of 21 pounds. I thought that would probably do it.

We pulled up to the dock to an alarming site. Ashley Hayes and Randy Hargis were already tied up and standing around. These guys win more than their share of tournaments on Priest and Old Hickory and it was not a good sign that they were already at the dock. Ashley said they had 22, but as we watched them take them out of the box, I figured we still had a good shot.

Adam held the bag as I pulled ours out. 3.75 pounder, 4 something smalljaw, 3.25, 5 pounder, 5-6 pounder. We had a good sack. Ashley and Randy’s fish weighed 21.00. They put ours on the scale and it settled on 21.06…… for about 2 seconds…. then settled again on 20.39. Second place. First-place loser.

We had a fun day and managed to keep ourselves and our fish alive in the heat. I love fishing in the hot summertime and especially on Percy Priest. I can’t understand how that lake, that in the summer has about 12-15 tournaments a week, can continue to pump out such great stringers. It is a spectactular fishery.

A quick note on fish care and I’ll quit boring you with this blog. It is an abosolute must in this kind of heat, to keep your livewells cool. The best way I’ve found to do that is to take home some lake water in your livewell, add some Rejuvenate, and freeze it in 1 gallon bags. They say that tap water has chemicals that aren’t good for the fish. Then I take a soft-sided cooler and put 6-8 frozen bags in the boat. Throughout the day, I’ll add a bag to the livewell about every 1.5 hours. Be sure to keep the livewell on recirculate to keep the cool water in. I also add Rejuvenate to the water in the livewell.  Be sure when you weigh your fish in, to get the water from the treated/cooler water in the livewell, not the surface of the lake. This takes a little more preparation, but it pays off in the form of no dead-fish penalties and better care of the resource.

Until next time…..

He ain’t got it his hands….