FISH WOLLITZ COLUMN I cast my memory back -- and learn

Looking back on the 2004 fishing season, I find it interesting to note the lessons learned.
Since my first outing of the year at Berlin Reservoir in March to my most recent (but not this year's last) at New York's Chautauqua Lake, a lot of casts were flung. The season delivered excitement and disappointment, optimism and frustration, success and failure.
The highs and lows combined, as always, to teach me a thing or two about our sport, not the least of which is that one can never learn enough about it.
The mind's role
Ours is a head game. Sure it's about techniques and information, but success boils down to believing in what you are doing.
I was fortunate to have the opportunity to explore a slew of waterways this year. The list includes old favorites such as Berlin, Mosquito, Shenango, West Branch and Milton. I had great visits to Presque Isle Bay; Conneaut Lake; Lake Erie off Erie, Pa., and Lorain; two pools of the Ohio River; and Chautauqua.
This year's fishing holes also included trips to Kerr Reservoir on the Virginia-North Carolina border and Akron's Nimisila Reservoir.
Thirteen different locations proved to be a lucky number for me, as they totaled up to deliver one of my best years of fishing and, more importantly, a wealth of new knowledge.
As I process the information, it's clear that several things stand out.
Trust instinct
First and foremost is the element of instinct. I learned to trust it.
Something in my head at Mosquito, West Branch and Berlin, in particular, told me to fish places I'd never learned. So I did and the payoff was lots of nice bass.
Instinct is more than playing a hunch, however. It is about listening to an inner voice that combines reason with experience and confidence to make informed decisions.
The instinctive voice can tell me to wait it out in an area or fire up the outboard and race 10 miles to brand new water. Whether the gut is saying move or stay, I learned it's important to make decisions only with supreme confidence. Anything less is sure to result in half-hearted efforts, most of which are doomed to fail.
There really is something intuitive about fishing. Good anglers just know there are fish where they are fishing. Those who aren't convinced their prospects are good simply will not fish confidently, and that translates into sloppy presentations, awkward boat maneuvering and lost opportunities.
Be ready!
About those lost opportunities. Now there's a lesson that can't be reinforced enough. I learned long ago that I should expect a bite on every cast. If you don't, you won't be ready when fortune smiles.
Two weeks ago on Chautauqua Lake, I was pleased to catch a nice bass just as the sun was peeking over the eastern horizon. But then I went an hour and a half without so much as a tap.
I moved to another location (instinct told me to go), lowered the trolling motor and pitched my plastic worm to a dock. The previous 90-minute doldrums had dulled my optimism, and I really wasn't expecting a bass to pick up the lure.
I was going through the motions of fishing, but my head was elsewhere -- that is, until that bass tugged hard enough to signal she was on the way to another county with my worm. That, more often than not, is too late to smack an effective hookset on a burly bass.
I missed that fish, but responded to the wake-up call: Don't even bother putting your bait in the water if you won't be ready to respond when opportunity knocks.
Keep your cool
And last, the value of remaining composed after a calamity was reinforced several times over the past few months, including my recent day on Chautauqua.
About midmorning, a giant bass ate my lure. I was ready, swung mightily and drove the hook into the lunker's jaw. She see-sawed back and forth as I gained line, wallowed her big head just above the surface, then did a 180-degree turn and headed back to her hiding place. The line popped to my complete and utter chagrin.
I'd done everything right on that one. It would have been easy, and perhaps even forgivable, to surrender at that point to anger and disgust. But there were lots of hours still to fish, so I filed the experience and focused on the next cast, and the next and the next.
I finished the day with a limit catch and learned another lesson. Fishing really is a head game and the more you keep your head in it, the better your chances to succeed.