2s Seem To Have Been the Common Denominator

Had a couple of emails waiting for me when I powered up the computer this morning. The first one was from Jim Bauer, who is sampling what Lake Gaston has to offer.

A tad over three hours on the water yesterday evening netted him a couple of bass--a 1.1 and the 2.0 in the accompanying photo. Said Jim, "Went over a half-hour using a worm with nary a strike. Grabbed the old reliable FF (French fry), though, and on about the third cast, caught the 1.1."

That was followed by some frustration when, as he explained, "I missed so many fish I lost count." The fish would pick up the bait, swim off with it, and when Jim would try to set the hook, all he got was air. A couple fish even stole the FF.

Jim then eased his boat to a big point and was throwing a small swimbait on a rockin' runner head when he had what he characterized as "a wicked strike that nearly jerked the rod out of my hand!" He went back to the FF and endured some more misses before hooking up with a 5-oz. dink, which he guesses may explain all the missed strikes he had.

About 8:15, Jim aimed his last cast of the night toward the corner of a boat dock and, in his words, "lucked into the 2.0."

The water temp never got above 73, and he said the color ranged from dirty in spots to stained/muddy at the backs of coves. The water level was high but in the process of being dropped.

Meanwhile, on the local front, Ron Ameika tells me that he and his son, Alex, have made several trips to Milldam Creek on the North Landing over the past week. Said Ron, "The water was high, and the bite was pretty good,"

This past Saturday evening, though, turned out to be the best of all for both. Ron scored with four bass, ranging from a 1-9 to a 2-15 (see photo at left), which he caught on a fluke. Alex also collected a couple of 2s, with a 2-4 (see photo below) and a 2-5 to his credit.

As Ron noted, "The water was clear but the skies were not, and we had to high-tail it out of there." I reckon that had to be the noise I heard while I was cleaning up my boat from the tourney Saturday.

I, too, once had to get out of Milldam in a hurry. It was many years ago, and I had met up with an old friend. We got to talking and didn't notice the black cloud bank forming off in the distance. Suddenly, a clap of thunder, loud enough to awaken the dead, sounded nearly over the top of us, and we both immediately shut up and made a mad dash for West Neck in some of the worst wind and rain I've ever seen on the North Landing.