It is so easy to get lulled into habitual fishing that it actually can be a problem.

I know. I’ve been there, done that when it comes to stubbornly trying to force-feed fish the same old lures and techniques.

When your fishing is fizzling, changing up the game plan would seem to be an obvious decision. Sometimes, however, “obvious” isn’t so cut and dried.

After all, we didn’t get to where we are as anglers without a lot of success. Failure tends to grind against the grain of those born without fishing instincts, and the result is they soon become non-anglers.

But catching a fish stimulates a response deep in my soul and in those who are similarly driven. That response is to immediately try to duplicate the accomplishment.

Fishing itself is a cumulative pursuit. The more we anglers catch, the more we want to catch, so we become conditioned to sifting through the variables and settling on those that generated results the last time we succeeded.

And who can blame us? Presenting a lure in a manner that convinces a fish it is real food or a threat to its existence is a very gratifying experience.

For decades, my fishing trips have started by building on the success (or sometimes failure) of the previous trip. Over the years, a pattern has developed. Certain lures and techniques have emerged as likely to produce, so they are first to be deployed when I go to the water.

This spring, however, I have noticed that stringing together two consecutive successful fishing trips has been more challenging than it ought to be. One day I catch them big time, and the next time is disappointing.

I think I have been lulled into habitual fishing. While it is wise to call on past experience, it is not good when I fail to adjust to the day’s set of conditions.

Adjusting means observing nature’s daily signals, understanding what they mean and adjusting so the signals point the way to success.

The tendency to be lulled into habitual fishing hit home recently. I had had a particularly outstanding fishing day on Mosquito Lake. My friend and I caught dozens and dozens of largemouth bass, and I used that day as the inspiration for my next trip to the lake.

The problem, however, was the bass did not respond in any way, shape or form to the game plan that had produced the last time. I was a victim of fishing habitually at a time when the bass simply were no longer relating to the same depth, cover and locations.

Looking back, it is obvious that the day that produced a boatload of bass was a result of us fishing where the fish were – that is, they were there that day because of the combination of water temperature, cloud cover, water depth and even the monthly cycle of sun and moon positions.

It would seem obvious, but there would be no way that pack of bass could stay in the same locations a week later. In May, those bass were on their way to spawning locations, and I failed to adjust as they moved. I was fishing habitually rather than in the moment of that particular day.

“Habitual fishing” must be what afflicts people who drop out of the sport. How else can we explain why someone would quit fishing altogether?

Don’t let habitual fishing infect your inner angler. If you sense it is happening, open your mind, soak in the circumstances and learn a new way to succeed.

Jack Wollitz enjoys writing about the things he’s learned while fishing so that others may discover the fun. He would be delighted to report what you’ve learned, too. Email him at jackbbaass@gmail.com.