The fist Sunday in November, only five members of the Flint River Bass Club showed up for our November tournament at West Point. We fished eight hours on a cold, windy day. At 3:30 we weighed in seven largemouth and ten spots weighing about 25 pounds. There was one limit and no zeros.

I got lucky landing a limit weighing 9.32 pounds to win and had big fish with a 3.11 pound largemouth. Doug Acre was second with four at 5.09 pounds, Jack Ridgeway was third with three at 4.14 pounds, fourth was Don Gober with three at 3.79 pounds and his grandson Alex Gober placed fifth with two at 2.79 pounds.

I thought it was going to be a good day, quickly catching a keeper spot on a crankbait back in a creek. But after three hours fishing in creeks, catching only throwbacks, I was getting disgusted. Something made me go to a hump at 11:00 where I had some brush marked in 22 feet of water. My first cast to it produced my second keeper.

The bite was strange, just a little mushy feeling on my shaky head worm. My next cast I didn’t feel anything but realized my line was moving. When I set the hook, I reeled in a jig and no worm. That made me pick up a Carolina rig and pulled it into the brush. I thought I was pulling the weight against the brush but felt a fish spit it out.

I put a worm on my shaky head and was ready. When it hit the brush and felt mushy, I set the hook and caught my third keeper. Although I cast to the brush until noon, I did not get another bite.

Hoping the pattern would hold, I went to more deep brush on the main lake. At the next one, the big largemouth took off with my shaky head as it sank, almost jerking the rod out of my hand. I definitely felt it! Luckily it hooked itself.

At the next brush pile a good keeper spot did the same thing. I now had four keepers and was feeling better. The next brush pile I was ready. I switched to a jig and pig and as it fell I watched may line. It twitched, and I set the hook on my biggest spot, giving me a limit.

The rest of the day I carefully fished brush and stayed ready to set the hook on any unusual feeling. I landed three more spots, culling my first three fish.
the last one hit on my last cast with just eight minutes to get in to weigh-in on time.

Today Potato Creek is fishing West Point. I’m sure all the rain has muddied up the water and dropped the temperature. But I will try my pattern again, anyway!