Out of chaos comes order
Earlier this week I spent an hour or so sorting and reorganizing lures that had become jumbled in the chaos that comes with a summer of bass fishing.
Minutes are precious during my fishing days. I’m often frazzled by the crush of time against my allotment of hours to fish each weekend, the result of which is a serious disruption to the organization of stuff that I haul aboard the BassCat.
From time to time, it becomes necessary to put things back where they belong. It was during a sorting session a few days ago that a curious thought hit me: What are bass thinking when they bite my baits?
Or, in other words, how in the world do fish actually think the gaudy combinations of plastic, steel, lead and more tied to my line are food?
Some lures look pretty real. A hard-body stickbait like a Rapala or Rogue does resemble a small fish. A topwater lure like a Spook or a Sammy mimics a struggling baitfish.
But I picked up a spinnerbait that needed to be returned to its proper box and wondered what possible reason might a bass strike it. I glanced at a small pile of jigs and marveled that fish actually think lead and rubber (or fur or feathers) appear living and nutritious.
By themselves, sans the context of the environment into which I toss them and the action that rod, reel and line deliver to lures, they are lifeless. They may look pretty, but they are pretty much inanimate strewn on the floor of the boat or staring out of their plastic boxes.
So why do fish bite them?
The complete answer isn’t easy to understand. It’s probably impossible for anglers to put themselves in a bass’ body and appreciate how and why it would react to a lure.
While the “why” may be difficult to address, the “how” is another story.
“How” a lure becomes lifelike is a function of the skill of the angler wielding it.
“How” is the difference between ordinary anglers and those who seem extraordinary – those who always come back to the dock with limit catches.
I know a fisher who blitzes the bass spring through fall on a buzzbait. He catches bass from dawn to dusk, during rainstorms and brilliant sunshine, in the heat and in the cold, cloudy or clear.
Give that man a buzzbait and he’s going to bring fish to the dock. Give that very same buzzbait to another angler and the story might be completely different.
Same goes for any lure.
I know people who catch them all the time on crankbait and others who cannot seem to buy a crankbait fish. I know anglers who swear by jigs and others who disdain them.
And so it goes.
The reason, of course, has relatively little to do with the bass’ brains. Rather, it’s all about what’s going on between anglers’ ears.
Confidence is key in any fishing situation. If you believe fish are in your area, you are more likely to catch them than if you cast with doubts. And if you trust that the lure you are working is the right one for that day and time, you are well on the way to tricking the fish into striking.
If you are convinced the bait is right, you will cast more accurately, work the lure more tantalizingly and pay closer attention to what is happening at the business end of your line.
When all of that comes together, the lifeless plastics and metals that comprise our fishing lures spring to life and fish respond. Out of the chaos comes order.
“I got one!” is the exclamation point when the “how” is done right.