The fishing gear was ready for action. The battery in the boat was fully charged and the tow vehicle was backed into position by the garage door. All was set for an early morning bass attack on Trails End Lake. I wouldn’t set the alarm – I almost always woke up about 4:00 AM.

As expected, I did wake up about 4:00 this morning but was unable to overcome Mr. Inertia and pry myself out of bed. Instead, I went back to sleep. The next time I awoke it was about 5:30. With a supreme effort, I barely overpowered Mr. Inertia and struggled out of bed. Staggering out into the kitchen, I put on a pot of coffee and then stumbled outside to load the fishing gear. I knew it was quite late to head off bass fishing this time of year but maybe some retarded bass would still hit a lure in full sunlight.

I arrived at Trails End Lake about 6:30 and the sun was shining brightly on the calm, clear waters. Trails End Lake is a fairly small lake with 73 surface acres. No outboard motors are allowed, which is as it should be on this quiet little lake.

Anyway, I launched my small blue boat at the loose gravel launch area and headed down the shoreline. I soon had a vicious hit on a floating Rapala but missed the fish. And, he wouldn’t give me a second chance.

A little ways further down the shoreline, I had another nice strike and hooked a skinny little 13 incher. He was released where he was caught. Not only was he illegal to keep, (all bass between 12 and 17 inches must be released) but the skinny little guy was probably on guard duty guarding a spawning nest or a school of fry.

Moving right along, I had another great surface strike. It looked like a big fish but again, I missed him. I continued down the shoreline casting the floating Rapala and occasionally, I would toss a black jig or plastic worm up along side of a private dock.

About a half hour into the bass attack, I hit the "acme" of the trip. I cast the Rapala near the shoreline, let it set a few seconds and gave it a twitch. Ka-ploosh!! – A huge bass smacked the lure. I reared back setting the hooks. (The 11 size Rapala has 3 trebles) The reel screamed as the behemoth bass peeled of yards of the 8 pound monofilament. I was feeling great – this fish was mine!

However, after peeling off about 30 or more feet of mono, the big bass had swam down under a few old logs and had tangled. I kept the line taunt but could feel no fish. Shucks, he got away. Sadly, my mission now changed from landing the lunker to trying to salvage my $6.00 lure. I gave the line slack but the floating lure must be hooked onto one of the logs.

The battle to save the lure went on for about 10 minutes. I circled the boat pulling the lure from all directions. I could not see the lure and it was way too deep to reach down and try to dislodge it. I had decided that I would have to break the line and loose my prized lure. Just as I was applying pressure to break the line, the huge bass exploded out from under the logs and peeled off some more line. He shot to the surface and flew into the air, coming down with a huge splash. He then wallowed on the surface shaking his head in a vain attempt to dislodge the lure.

This time, I made sure that he didn’t return to the logs and after a fairly short but exciting battle, I reached over the side of the boat and grabbed his lower jaw and hoisted him aboard. I filled the cooler with fresh water and let him (and myself) take a little breather.

I poured a cup of coffee, relaxed and just enjoyed the beautiful July morning. I then readied the tape measure and the scale. He (or most probably she) was 19 ¾ inches long and weighed 4 pounds, 2 ounces. I did catch a few more bass, but none that could compare with the adventure I had with that 4 pounder. It was, indeed, a beautiful day on Trails End Lake -- on "Firecracker Day 2003."

---