A Lunker Bass and a Small Rock
It was March about 15 years ago, and the bass I was fighting was a dandy. I lifted a spinnerbait up over the top of some underwater logs and he nailed it. After a long winter, a fellow need something like that, a hard fight that ruffles the surface considerably, a casting rod with a little backbone in it arced hard, a bass that feels bigger than he is when you get him in the boat. I said, as I held him high for my uncle to look at, that he’d go seven pounds.
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