Stan Fagerstrom
06-18-2002, 06:17 PM
I Finally Broke The Barrier!
By Stan Fagerstrom
I'm gonna buy the biggest gol dang calendar that's ever been printed.
Once I get that hummer home, I'll remove the page for the month of June, 2002. Then I'm gonna get me the broadest brush I can find and circle the third day of the month in fluorescent red paint.
If all of the above makes you think old Stan has reason to think there's something special
about that day---you're right. Let me explain why.
I've been fishing for largemouth bass for a long, long time. I got my first one in the mid-30s. I've put thousands of them in the boat or on the bank since. Not a one of them weighed 10-pounds. Like other bass nuts, though I'd never put a 10-pounder in the boat, I did my share of dreaming in that regard. I've never known a really dedicated bass angler who hasn't.
Now it's not unusual for Pacific Northwest bass fishermen, no matter how much time they spend on the water, not to catch double-digit bass. Precious few of them ever have or ever will in this part of the world. There just aren't that many 10-pound bass around. Over a lifetime of bass fishing, by far the most of it in either Washington or Oregon waters, I've had hold of only two largemouth that I'm certain would have topped 10-pounds. I didn't manage to get either of them into the boat.
All that isn't to say I've not caught my share of good-sized fish from the same region. Again, I've caught thousands of bass in my lifetime. If you're interested in documenting that, get in touch with the Oregon Bass & Panfish Club that headquarters in Portland. That club, one of the most active of its type in the nation, stages an annual large bass contest among its membership. I won that contest all five years in which I competed. The fish I weighed to win it ranged between 7 and 9-pounds.
I don't provide those details as a means of thumping myself between the shoulder blades. I just want to establish that I do know what a big bass looks like. It's also why I had a near terminal case of the shiverin' fits when I got onto a lake that I knew for certain contained an abundance of bass the size of the one I'd been looking for so long.
That spot is Mexico's El Salto Lake. It's located in the Sierra Madres northeast of Mazatlan. For the past half dozen years it has been producing the best action for big largemouth the world has ever seen. I had been first chance to fish it in May of last year. The first day out my fishing partner put two bass of more than 10-pounds in the boat. Me? My best for the entire trip was only 8-pounds, 14-ounces.
I got back to El Salto Lake last December. This time the weather whacked me behind the ear. The first day there we had almost 3-inches of rain. Though a scattering of 10-pound plus whoppers were caught, none came my way. I might have had hold the one I'd been after for so long, but it broke my 20-pound line when I tried to keep it out of some submerged trees.
Maybe there is something to that old business about the third time being the charm. I got back to El Salto for the third time early this month. My trip to Anglers Inn Lodge at El Salto was arranged by Steve Babbidge, a great guy who operates Hook Sportfishing Charters out of Huntington Beach, CA.
Steve is a bass fisherman himself and a pretty darn good one. Though he hasn't fished bass anywhere near as long or as much as I have, he already has several fish of more than 10-pounds to his credit---all of them from El Salto Lake. We had fished together before and Steve knew what it would mean for an old timer like myself to finally crack that 10-pound barrier. He was determined to do something about it.
The first day out we took turns in the front of the boat. Early in the day I hooked a dandy. When our guide finally got the net it, I figured maybe I had that 10-pounder at last. So did Steve. It wasn't. Though we weighed in on two different scales, it didn't even top 9-pounds.
Late in the day we pulled up next to some submerged timber. Steve, fishing out of the front of the boat, hooked a monster. It weighed 10-pounds, 8-ounces. Our guide fished out of the back of the boat from time to time. Five minutes after Steve had his big one, the guide nailed another lunker. That one weighed 10-pounds, 2 ounces.
I felt like I was snakebit where 10-pounders were concerned. Steve had caught one in front of me. The guide had caught one behind me. By now I was just about convinced I flat just wasn't destined to put a 10-pound bass in the boat. Steve sensed how I felt. Next morning when we climbed into the boat at daylight he made it very plain. "Look," he said, "you get your butt up there in the bow seat and you aren't getting out of it until you put that 10-pounder in the boat!"
We had some great fishing that morning. We boated about 40 bass, most running from 3 to 7-pounds. Steve had one that weighed 8-pounds, 8-ounces before we went in for lunch and our noontime siesta. We nailed some more dandies in the afternoon. The largest was a 7-pound, 8-ouncer I caught on a jig & lizard combination.
Our third day at the lake was June 3. We went back to the same spot we'd caught our biggest fish the day before. I got one of 8-pounds and another that topped 7-pounds. Just before we headed in for lunch Steve nailed a beauty that weighed 9-pounds, 8-ounces.
Fishing that afternoon was slow. There was lots of wind and it was difficult to fish the plastic worms or the jig and lizard combinations the big ones seemed to want. Stay at Billy Chapman Junior's Anglers Inn, and few fishing resorts around the world are as well operated, and you have to quit fishing and head in for dinner about 7:30 p.m.
About 7 p.m. our guide eased our boat up to a section of shoreline we hadn't fished before. Both Steve and I hooked and lost fish and had other bumps. The sun was on its way down below the Sierra Madres and our guide was busy getting things squared away for the run home. I made what was to be my last cast of the day.
I threw the 10-Berkley Power Worm I had on my line as far as I could. I let it sink, then began slowly crawling its way back through the submerged timber and rocks along the bottom. Suddenly there was that distinctive "thump" bass make when they pick up a plastic worm. Then my line began sneaking off to the side. I hesitated a heartbeat, took a couple of quick turns of the reel handle to take up slack line and set the hook.
It felt like I had hooked a bulldozer headed downhill. I finally managed to turn the fish and it ran back toward the boat. My line started slating upward then that fish came boiling up out of the water 10-feet from the boat.
"Steve," I screamed, "there she is! That's my 10-pounder if we can just manage to get her in the boat."
Thanks to some nifty net work on our guide's part we did get that fish. But she wasn't a mere 10-pounds. On the IGFA rated Boga Grip scales we used to weigh her she went 11-pounds, 8-ounces! I don't know who was happiest about my catching that fish, me or my pal Steve. I do know it wouldn't have happened without his help. I also know that since I've returned home my wife has asked me a dozen times: "What are you smiling about?"
http://www.ifish.net/sfbigb.jpg
Here's the bass I'd been seeking for a long, long time. She weighed 11-pounds, 8-ounces and is still swimming around somewhere in Mexico's El Salto Lake.
If you're a dedicated bass man yourself, you already know why. And you also know why the June date I mentioned in the beginning is now and forever will be a red-letter day in my fishing memory book. El Salto bass fishing, to the everlasting credit of Billy Chapman Jr., the man who is responsible for the wondrous fishing that lake produces, is now all catch & release. That beautiful bass of my lifetime is still swimming around down there south of the border. Get down there and you'll have a crack at her yourself.
I make it a practice each morning I fish to take time before my first cast to thank God just for the chance to be out there on the water. Be assured I did exactly the same thing when Steve slid that beautiful fish back into the water and I watched her swirl and swim away on the evening of June 3, 2002.
Interested in doing the same thing? There is no better first step than getting in touch with my buddy Steve (Bear) Babbidge at Hook Sportfishing Charters. Odds are he can do the same thing for you, he did for me. You can reach him at 1 800-583-8133.
By Stan Fagerstrom
I'm gonna buy the biggest gol dang calendar that's ever been printed.
Once I get that hummer home, I'll remove the page for the month of June, 2002. Then I'm gonna get me the broadest brush I can find and circle the third day of the month in fluorescent red paint.
If all of the above makes you think old Stan has reason to think there's something special
about that day---you're right. Let me explain why.
I've been fishing for largemouth bass for a long, long time. I got my first one in the mid-30s. I've put thousands of them in the boat or on the bank since. Not a one of them weighed 10-pounds. Like other bass nuts, though I'd never put a 10-pounder in the boat, I did my share of dreaming in that regard. I've never known a really dedicated bass angler who hasn't.
Now it's not unusual for Pacific Northwest bass fishermen, no matter how much time they spend on the water, not to catch double-digit bass. Precious few of them ever have or ever will in this part of the world. There just aren't that many 10-pound bass around. Over a lifetime of bass fishing, by far the most of it in either Washington or Oregon waters, I've had hold of only two largemouth that I'm certain would have topped 10-pounds. I didn't manage to get either of them into the boat.
All that isn't to say I've not caught my share of good-sized fish from the same region. Again, I've caught thousands of bass in my lifetime. If you're interested in documenting that, get in touch with the Oregon Bass & Panfish Club that headquarters in Portland. That club, one of the most active of its type in the nation, stages an annual large bass contest among its membership. I won that contest all five years in which I competed. The fish I weighed to win it ranged between 7 and 9-pounds.
I don't provide those details as a means of thumping myself between the shoulder blades. I just want to establish that I do know what a big bass looks like. It's also why I had a near terminal case of the shiverin' fits when I got onto a lake that I knew for certain contained an abundance of bass the size of the one I'd been looking for so long.
That spot is Mexico's El Salto Lake. It's located in the Sierra Madres northeast of Mazatlan. For the past half dozen years it has been producing the best action for big largemouth the world has ever seen. I had been first chance to fish it in May of last year. The first day out my fishing partner put two bass of more than 10-pounds in the boat. Me? My best for the entire trip was only 8-pounds, 14-ounces.
I got back to El Salto Lake last December. This time the weather whacked me behind the ear. The first day there we had almost 3-inches of rain. Though a scattering of 10-pound plus whoppers were caught, none came my way. I might have had hold the one I'd been after for so long, but it broke my 20-pound line when I tried to keep it out of some submerged trees.
Maybe there is something to that old business about the third time being the charm. I got back to El Salto for the third time early this month. My trip to Anglers Inn Lodge at El Salto was arranged by Steve Babbidge, a great guy who operates Hook Sportfishing Charters out of Huntington Beach, CA.
Steve is a bass fisherman himself and a pretty darn good one. Though he hasn't fished bass anywhere near as long or as much as I have, he already has several fish of more than 10-pounds to his credit---all of them from El Salto Lake. We had fished together before and Steve knew what it would mean for an old timer like myself to finally crack that 10-pound barrier. He was determined to do something about it.
The first day out we took turns in the front of the boat. Early in the day I hooked a dandy. When our guide finally got the net it, I figured maybe I had that 10-pounder at last. So did Steve. It wasn't. Though we weighed in on two different scales, it didn't even top 9-pounds.
Late in the day we pulled up next to some submerged timber. Steve, fishing out of the front of the boat, hooked a monster. It weighed 10-pounds, 8-ounces. Our guide fished out of the back of the boat from time to time. Five minutes after Steve had his big one, the guide nailed another lunker. That one weighed 10-pounds, 2 ounces.
I felt like I was snakebit where 10-pounders were concerned. Steve had caught one in front of me. The guide had caught one behind me. By now I was just about convinced I flat just wasn't destined to put a 10-pound bass in the boat. Steve sensed how I felt. Next morning when we climbed into the boat at daylight he made it very plain. "Look," he said, "you get your butt up there in the bow seat and you aren't getting out of it until you put that 10-pounder in the boat!"
We had some great fishing that morning. We boated about 40 bass, most running from 3 to 7-pounds. Steve had one that weighed 8-pounds, 8-ounces before we went in for lunch and our noontime siesta. We nailed some more dandies in the afternoon. The largest was a 7-pound, 8-ouncer I caught on a jig & lizard combination.
Our third day at the lake was June 3. We went back to the same spot we'd caught our biggest fish the day before. I got one of 8-pounds and another that topped 7-pounds. Just before we headed in for lunch Steve nailed a beauty that weighed 9-pounds, 8-ounces.
Fishing that afternoon was slow. There was lots of wind and it was difficult to fish the plastic worms or the jig and lizard combinations the big ones seemed to want. Stay at Billy Chapman Junior's Anglers Inn, and few fishing resorts around the world are as well operated, and you have to quit fishing and head in for dinner about 7:30 p.m.
About 7 p.m. our guide eased our boat up to a section of shoreline we hadn't fished before. Both Steve and I hooked and lost fish and had other bumps. The sun was on its way down below the Sierra Madres and our guide was busy getting things squared away for the run home. I made what was to be my last cast of the day.
I threw the 10-Berkley Power Worm I had on my line as far as I could. I let it sink, then began slowly crawling its way back through the submerged timber and rocks along the bottom. Suddenly there was that distinctive "thump" bass make when they pick up a plastic worm. Then my line began sneaking off to the side. I hesitated a heartbeat, took a couple of quick turns of the reel handle to take up slack line and set the hook.
It felt like I had hooked a bulldozer headed downhill. I finally managed to turn the fish and it ran back toward the boat. My line started slating upward then that fish came boiling up out of the water 10-feet from the boat.
"Steve," I screamed, "there she is! That's my 10-pounder if we can just manage to get her in the boat."
Thanks to some nifty net work on our guide's part we did get that fish. But she wasn't a mere 10-pounds. On the IGFA rated Boga Grip scales we used to weigh her she went 11-pounds, 8-ounces! I don't know who was happiest about my catching that fish, me or my pal Steve. I do know it wouldn't have happened without his help. I also know that since I've returned home my wife has asked me a dozen times: "What are you smiling about?"
http://www.ifish.net/sfbigb.jpg
Here's the bass I'd been seeking for a long, long time. She weighed 11-pounds, 8-ounces and is still swimming around somewhere in Mexico's El Salto Lake.
If you're a dedicated bass man yourself, you already know why. And you also know why the June date I mentioned in the beginning is now and forever will be a red-letter day in my fishing memory book. El Salto bass fishing, to the everlasting credit of Billy Chapman Jr., the man who is responsible for the wondrous fishing that lake produces, is now all catch & release. That beautiful bass of my lifetime is still swimming around down there south of the border. Get down there and you'll have a crack at her yourself.
I make it a practice each morning I fish to take time before my first cast to thank God just for the chance to be out there on the water. Be assured I did exactly the same thing when Steve slid that beautiful fish back into the water and I watched her swirl and swim away on the evening of June 3, 2002.
Interested in doing the same thing? There is no better first step than getting in touch with my buddy Steve (Bear) Babbidge at Hook Sportfishing Charters. Odds are he can do the same thing for you, he did for me. You can reach him at 1 800-583-8133.