2009 BASS Elite Wrap Up
How I Fished the Elites
December 9, 2009
Lake Amistad 
I like Amistad. BASS has been there numerous times. Amistad is a big lake, vast and full of options. In early March this year the conditions were prime for a major spawn. I expected a strong migration of females during the event, as the males were already in place. I practiced accordingly, searching areas that were protected on both sides of the lake, in case the weather turned ugly. I also experimented with a swimbait—those always seem to propel a few competitors to the final cut each time we’re there.
I marked lots of guarding males throughout the three days of practice, but for whatever reason, most of them vacated the shallows at tournament time. I tried backing out to the first drops, and to adjacent grassbeds, but that too yielded little. What few fish I did catch came on 5” green-pumpkin Senkos. Before I knew it, time was up and I had little to show for a very long drive.
As it turned out, Jason Williamson won the tournament on a big Osprey swimbait, and some others did well fishing shallow. I have no clue what happened to my areas. Needless to say, finishing near the bottom was not a good start.
Lake Dardenelle
It was cold. Pre-tournament hype called for a shallow bite, and that sounded good to me. I practiced by running pockets, looking for signs of spawning activity, and on rare occasions I could see nice size males cruising. I had numerous bites casting Senkos and Flukes to isolated grass patches along the shoreline, but I felt like I was missing something.
On the second day of practice I went to the next pool downriver. It was strange running in and out of side sloughs, never seeing another boat. It felt like I was on the wrong lake. I caught a five and two threes, cranking a Rapala DT Fat-3 along riprap banks. Each fish seemed to be keyed on a big rock, or a piece of wood. The problem was, the water level in this pool was extremely low, and there wasn’t enough cover in the water. On the final practice day I returned to the take-off pool and searched for more bedding areas. Immediately, I realized more males were showing up. I ventured into one area and there were fresh beds every 10 yards or so. I teased several fish, to see how they would react, and it was game on!
With a good draw, I headed straight for my best spawning area. In no time I had put together a decent stringer sight-fishing. Several of my key fish came by fishing behind other competitors who were struggling due to poor visibility. The next day went about the same, but I capped it off by catching one close to six pounds. That fish, and a couple of others, actually chased down a Zoom Horny Toad. But for the most part, Yamamoto tubes and lizards were my best producers.
I made the cut and did about the same on day-3, ending up with a check for $10K and some badly needed points.
Wheeler Lake
Definitely not one of my favorite lakes, but Wheeler does have a lot of fish. My problem there is finding the right fish. But this time would prove to be different.
I started on “Decatur Flats” directly across from take-off. The year before, thousands of fish were caught there on lipless crankbaits, fishing over submerged grass adjacent to the main river channel. I was hoping that my new Rapala Clackin’ Rap would make the difference fishing in a crowd. Not many were on the street yet, and I had a good supply. Unfortunately, this year, the grass was gone, and so were the fish. I zigzagged across the massive flat for hours searching for any remaining grass clumps, but there were none. I eventually swapped sides of the channel, hoping to find some there. Nothing. Next, I ran several riprap banks, and I began to connect with fish by throwing a Rapala DT 6 and DT Fat-3. The bass weren’t big, but they were eager, and their numbers seemed strong.
The final practice day was spent fishing shallow pad fields with Senkos and Skinny Dippers. I was successful there as well. By tournament time, I felt ready.
As it turned out, I was on more fish than I realized. The first morning of competition I caught nearly 50 keepers from one stretch of rock bank. None were real big, but by culling through so many, I finally accumulated the weight I needed.
Day-2 went about the same. I started on the rocks, and as the sun warmed the shallows, I moved to the pads. Day-3, ditto. It’s a good feeling when you figure out two solid patterns that compliment each other. That was the case at Wheeler this time—a solid one-two punch that led to a top-20 finish, and a check for $12K.
Smith Mountain
This was the event I was waiting for. Everything lined up perfectly for a massive spawn—the moon phase, weather, and water temp were all in sync. Each day of practice I ran pockets and sides of points, marking beds on my GPS. Bass were spawning everywhere. Some were easy, others weren’t. But there were so many, it didn’t seem to matter. My best two bed-fishing lures were a 4” Senko (green-pumpkin), and a 4” Tube in a crawfish pattern. I also established a topwater bite in the mornings using a Rapala SkitterWalk. I felt strongly about my chances. But as the saying goes, never count your fish before they’re weighed…
The first morning of competition, I ran straight to a pair of big spawners I marked in practice. Unfortunately, another competitor beat me to them. So I headed to another pocket and, same thing….then another, same thing. I tried fishing nearby, hoping my competition would move on without catching the better females, but they made it clear they weren’t leaving anytime soon.
Finally I landed on a couple of nice fish, unmolested. The first was a smallmouth I shook off in practice—a nice 2 3/4 pounder which ate my tube on the first cast. Unfortunately, after a series of acrobatic jumps, the fish freed itself. I was crushed. The clock was ticking away and I had nothing to show for my day.
The next fish was over three. I tried the tube without success, then the Senko. It was a difficult skip-cast through low, overhanging branches, and the fish wouldn’t budge. I spent nearly two hours on that bass, and never got it to hold the bait. It was so aggravating, watching it nip only the tail. I became obsessed trying to catch it, but eventually left and finished my limit with some smaller, easier males. With less than 9 pounds, I was well off the pace. I knew my effort on day-2 would have to be stellar in order to make the top-50 cut.
Straight from take-off, I ran to the 3 pounder that was my obsession the day before. I was determined to make this day different.
On this day, for some reason, I was much calmer. I guess because I was so far behind, I felt almost no pressure. My casts were perfect, and each presentation landed with stealth. Somehow I knew I was going to catch each fish in the first few minutes of trying. Soon I boated the reluctant 3 pounder, and quickly moved to another 3-pounder close by—one that another competitor worked without success the day before. In just minutes I got that fish to bite as well. By then my confidence was sky high, so I ran to the acrobatic smallmouth that had escaped the day before, and caught it.
Things were clicking and I had all day to finish with a good bag. I ran to a tiny pocket where I was saving a spawning pair, both close to three pounds. They were extremely shallow and skittish, but by positioning my boat against the side bank and leaving their escape route open, I got them to relax. In just a couple of casts with the tube I caught the male. He was a hefty 2 ¾ pounds. Minutes later, I boated the female and she weighed about the same.
I continued to catch fish behind other competitors throughout the day, but most were smaller than what I already had. Finally, in the last few minutes, I boated one close to four pounds, narrowly missing the money cut. The first day was costly, but at least I recovered from near disaster. With renewed confidence, I set my sites on the next event.
Guntersville
Land of the Giants! Going in, the entire field knew it would take heavy weight to survive this event. Guntersville puts out so many 20+ pound bags, it’s insane. The usual approach at this time of year requires a couple of patterns; the first being an early morning shad-spawn bite. Usually the main river ledges with healthy grass produce the quickest action, and if you find shad, the bass with them are usually big. Willow-leaf spinnerbaits matching the forage size are best, and figuring that out is easy, as groups of shad swarm the lure when it’s right.
My selection was a 5/8-ounce Hildebrandt Tin Roller, with tandem silver willow blades. I also tried smaller swimbaits to see if those would work, and they did. Once I found an area I knew would produce, I began a search for spawners by fan-casting bedding areas with a Swim Senko. That too, proved productive.
On the last day of practice, I committed solely to drop-fishing the bigger flats near deep water. There were tornado warnings, and winds predicted to reach 40-50 mph. Almost no one left their hotels that morning, but I needed to check a few areas before calling it quits. One was a place I caught them on years before—a drop-off in the mouth of a major creek. There, I found the mother load. On several consecutive casts with a Rapala DT Flat-9, I hooked big bass. The bites were so vicious, each fish knocked slack in my line. I caught three on the crankbait, one of which was over seven. I switched to a 10” Kut Tail worm so I could shake them off, and felt at least a dozen more heavy-weight bites before an approaching storm ran me in. I was ready!
According to plan, I started each morning fishing river ledges, filling out a nice limit on the Tin Roller. Once the sun slowed that bite, I moved to the deeper drop where the big fish held, catching them with the DT Flat-9 and 10” Kut Tail.
Day-1 yielded 28 pounds, and on day-2 I managed another 25 pounds. It was a solid start. But as the tournament progressed, spectator traffic increased. Eventually I was forced to surrender my best two areas to persistent locals who insisted on helping me catch the fish. It was sad. I left Guntersville with a check for $10K, aggravated and dejected, thinking of what might have been, had I not been intruded on.
Kentucky Lake
Not my best lake at that time of year (early summer). Although I can find schools of ledge fish, I never seem to locate the grade needed to do well. Like most of the field, I ran from drop to drop, fan-casting crankbaits and dragging a Carolina-rig. Big jigs and 10-inch worms were also on the menu, but I never made those work too well.
By tournament time, I had located several grassy drops with good numbers of fish—I just wasn’t sure of their size.
With a good draw on the first morning of competition, I opted to run a stretch of riprap close to take off—hoping to catch some easy release fish from an event held the weekend prior. That move proved to be costly.
I caught several quick fish by burning a Hildebrandt Blade and Rapala DT Fat-3 down the rocks, and I thought I was making progress. But in retrospect, all it really did was take me away from my game plan. By late morning I realized my mistake, but I was in the first flight and I felt it was too late to make the long run south. At weigh-in, the gut-wrench began. Huge weights were coming in, and I knew my first-day strategy was a choke.
On day-2 I ran south, directly to a ledge I located along a secondary channel—one well away from the main river channel where most of the other competitors were fishing. I had it all to myself. In a matter of minutes I boated 15 pounds of fat, structure bass, all of which came on a Rapala DT Flat-7. I moved to several other ledges close by, and all of them produced. It was easy and fun.
The more I caught fish, the more I realized how costly my first day decision really was. I totaled 50-60 fish, with the best five weighing 20 pounds. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to dig myself out of the hole—another weak finish on a super-good lake.
Mississippi River
Because of severe flooding the year prior, BASS was forced to reschedule this event. And although the water had receded, the fish population apparently suffered drastic losses as a result of the flood. We all knew it would be tough, and worse, crowded in the better areas.
I spent most of my time in the pool upriver from take-off. It had everything I wanted; plenty of backwaters with good color, and lots of wood in the water. Unfortunately, a large percentage of the field also liked that pool best.
Throughout practice I ran in and out of back sloughs and secondary channels, searching for places that held good numbers of bass. I found several very promising areas, but the more I searched, the more obvious it became that there wouldn’t be enough to go around. So I spent my last practice day searching the take-off pool for back-up areas to fish. I wanted a productive place to fish while waiting on the lock.
On day-1 I ran directly to a bank below the lock. While waiting on the lock tender, I boated two small fish. Unfortunately, neither would keep. By 8 a.m. I was through the lock and on my best stretch of backwater, along with a number of other competitors. I stopped at the mouth of a short, dead-end slough, determined to fish every piece of wood there. By rotating between a 4” Storm Swimbait and a swimming jig, I fan-cast my way into the shallow slough. In a matter of minutes I lost two crucial fish, one of which was huge. It was a heartbreaker. Both appeared to have the bait deep, but as they raced by the boat, each pulled off. Bites were extremely hard to come by, and I had just lost two critical fish.
In the next few minutes I boated my first keeper—a plump 2 pounder. Thirty minutes later, another. When it was time to head for the lock, I had three bass weighing about seven pounds, which under the tough conditions should have felt good. But after losing those two key fish that morning, I was totally dejected.
Day-2 was much tougher. Although fewer competitors returned to the backwater slough, the fishing was slower. By day’s end, I managed only two keepers and seven shorts.
Speaking of which, Kevin Short won the event, cranking shallow in the same pool, but slightly downstream in another slough. Kudos to Kevin, but I was ready to head for Florida!
Oneida
This lake is, by far, my favorite on the schedule. In two previous trips there, I scored top-10 finishes, one of which propelled me into the 2009 Classic. I needed this event to go equally well. Determined, I began my search.
Summer days in New York are long; with an extended photo period, it’s possible to fish from 5am to 10pm at night, and I did just that. My first practice day was spent reviewing areas that proved productive the year prior. I probed shallow grass flats with topwaters, including a SkitterPop and GYCB Buzzer, and also tried a Rojas frog and Skinny Dipper. But things were different this year. The bass didn’t appear to be grouped up in the same key areas. So I ventured to deeper water. In doing so, I realized the grasslines had changed drastically. Years prior, the edges were defined, but this year most of the grassbeds ran way out into the lake, with very few clean edges. That made the search much more random and time consuming.
Offshore, I noticed breaking fish—smallmouth on the feed! I spent hours chasing those elusive schools with a Rapala SkitterPop and a X-Rap in perch, and on several occasions I scored with 2 ½ to 3-pounders. But it was too random, and unless your lure was dead in the mix, bites were really tough to come by. So back to the grass flats I went, concentrating on thicker clumps and the few defined edges I could find.
My best lures included a 5/16-ounce Texas-rig Fat Baby Craw, and a 5/8-ounce Oldham Jig with Fat Baby Craw trailer, all in green pumpkin. I kept the trolling motor on low as I steadily pitched my way through the fields of grass. After what seemed like hours of endless pitching, I would finally get a bite, and then others would quickly follow. Most were largemouth. What was different about the productive areas, I couldn’t say, only that the fish preferred them.
I also skipped docks with a tube, and that produced some largemouth. Although I wasn’t overly confident in the size I was catching, I felt these various patterns would yield enough fish to do well.
Each morning of competition, I ran to the same area, rotating the Rapala SkitterPop, Yamamoto Buzzbait, and a Skinny Dipper. And each morning I caught a decent 10- to 12-pound bag doing that. As the sun climbed, I switched to pitching, hoping to cull up. By weigh-in, I had increased my catch enough to fish on the weekend.
But like last year, more than making the final cut was at stake. I had also fished my way into contention for the Classic. Saturday went okay…I qualified for Sunday’s final twelve, but lost ground to the leaders in the process. I was told I needed a top-3 finish in order to make the Classic.
The final day was different. My starting area went dry. I barely managed a few bites from smaller fish. From there I went to the grass clumps, only to find small bass again. I pounded the area for a couple of hours, and only managed a small limit.
So I ran north to some docks I believed would be overlooked by the rest of the field. On the first skip I boated a chunky 2 ¾ pound largemouth, and in the next six docks I put a limit in the boat. Unfortunately, they averaged only 2 pounds apiece. I needed some weight, so I ran back to the deeper grassbed where I had caught all of my better fish. Throughout the remainder of the day I caught bass after bass pitching into the grass. Sadly, none helped the cause. I finished the event in 11th place, missing the Classic by a couple of pounds.
On the long ride home, I reflected on the many lost opportunities I experienced throughout the season—a fish here, or a fish there, that could have made the difference. But that’s the nature of this game. And in spite of all of the setbacks, I still find myself coming back for more.
For more information about Bernie and his fishing experiences on the Tour, please visit his website at: www.bernieschultzfishing.com
Click here for Bernie's 2008 coverage!