No, my title does not refer to Earl Pitt�s list of God�s greatest inventions. According to Earl, those are Hooter�s Girls, Smallmouth bass, and flush toilettes.

While Earl�s list does have merit, after all, who doesn�t like Smallmouth bass? Nope, I�m referring to fly fishing Nirvana. Now if you pick up pretty much any fly fishing magazine, you�ll find somebody droning on about how the ultimate fly fishing is a trout on a dry fly�.

You have got to be kidding me!!!!!

There is no way that a trout quietly sipping a small bug off the surface as it drifts by can hold a candle to sound of a toilette flushing when a Largemouth bass makes your popper disappear from the surface of lake.

One second the popper is just setting there minding its own business. Then there is a flushing sound and the popper is just gone. And I mean GONE, nothing but a few rings in the water where it used to be. It is enough to make your chin drop into your lap, but you had better get your chin out of your lap and set the hook while the sound is ringing in your ears or the next thing you�ll see is your popper returning to the surface. And when you do set the hook, well� at that point, the world basically explodes� Followed by much rejoicing by the fly fisher!!!

There is no way a trout is that exciting�

The Red River Fly Fishers loaded up the kayaks and went fishing Saturday. Five of us went to a small public lake that will remain nameless. (Yes, I do realize that a lot of the folks reading this were invited so this is not a secrete location, but it still doesn�t need the extra pressure of being posted.) Everyone that went got at least one LM bass on a popper that morning. Let�s see, everyone caught Largemouth on a popper, yep, I�d say that was a successful trip.

Oh, and before you ask, yes, I even caught some too. Yes, I do realize that for me to actually catch a fish is considered to be one of the signs of the coming apocalypse, but it was still fun.

Oh and is there any more peaceful way to fish, than FF�ing from a kayak on a still pond early in the morning? Where else do the turtles pop to watch you cast and three geese come in for a landing right beside you?

I don�t use a kayak very often, but I always enjoy the trips.

One unusual thing about Saturday, this is a lake that is usually full of Bluegill and other assorted sunfish plus a few bass. But nobody caught or even saw anything but bass on this trip. I wonder if the recent rain had the sunfish off of their feed?

You say that today, but then how long ago was it that you thought double nymph rigs were stupid? I don't think you've caught the right trout. It's cool, just in a different way. How can I put this. How about, a LM bass is a one night stand and a trout is the girl next door.

I agree with you about the excitement of a bass on top water. I don't know any type of fishing that rivals a blow-up of a bass on a surface fly. They take those flies with such gusto that it's hard to imagine a better fishing experience (in freshwater, that is)

No, Preast, I didn't think double nymph rigs were stupid. I was just too lazy to learn how to use them. (I'm still impressed with how well it works when rigged correctly.)

If the LM is a one night stand, then I guess it explains the popularity of catch and release...

In all seriousness, I do think a trout puts up a longer/better fight. But I think the LM wins with their take of the fly and initial run. However, the topwater take from a Striper does have a more "bone crushing" feel to it...

Oh, let's face it, my favorite fish is whatever type the last one was that I caught...

Corskier, you understand what I'm trying to say.

The toilet flush of joy. The disappearance of a bass bug is a microcosm of fishing itself. We spend all this time, money, and effort to fool a nearly prehistoric creature with our NASA-derived rod and line. Hours, sometimes days of preparation, begging with bosses/spouses for the time to go. Battling our beloved neighbors at the ramp, battling Mother Nature to get to the spot. Once there, battling our own casting demons to try to get a sodden wad of hair, cork, and feathers to a certain location in an aquatic environment we struggled to leave millions of years ago.

Then, after some indeterminate time, it happens. Maybe we see it occur, maybe we don't; the bass doesn't care. To it, our involvement is tertiary at best. It only knows its drive to fill its stomach and there is something tasty looking and possibly wounded near its beat. Nature, red in tooth and claw, has sent it this offering for sustenance. The time has come.

All that effort and survival of the bass and of us is focused on that second, that snapshot of emotions. Terror: will it strike; is this a trap? Hunger: we want this fish; it wants to eat. Adrenaline: we need our fix; it needs to be what Nature has refined it all these millennia for. Pride: we are both the master of our domains.

And in that second, nothing is certain. The winner of a battle one of us didn't even know we were going to have will only be determined after Nature and Physics have gone over the rule book and enough math to choke a whole floor of mainframes.

Our minds struggle for only milliseconds to grasp what has happened to the bug that we built for this exact purpose. Our hands are not as quick, but it's that digital hesitation that gives the bass time to fully engulf the bug and seals the its fate.

If we're honest, the fight can be almost anticlimactic. Mathematically, the biggest thrill is seeing the bug get smashed and feeling that resistance of a hooked fish, the rest of the dance is what we do to get the fish off the hook so that we might get the bug out there and feel it again.

Trout are not the girl next door. They are the exotic women known to most of us only in the glossy pages of certain magazines. Along with tarpon and bonefish, trout are high maintenance and, even when spotted, aren't easy to fool.

Bass are the girl next door. They're from here. We grew up with them, went to school with them, and look forward to those weekends at the lake with them. They aren't as elegant, they often gulp their food, and sometimes they have a bit of a gut, but that just endears them to us that much more.

And those are just some of the reasons I'm a bass angler.

Well said sir, well said!

Next time, I think I'll just tell Dusty I went fishing and let him take it from there...

Nicely stated.

Yep I knew I was risking a dogpile on that one but what I was getting at is how each fish takes, how willing they are to go after the fly, and how much work goes into it. Oh well, it was tortured metaphor.

bass fishing ain't what it used to be; everybody caught at least one; 4 to 5 was exceptional. Back in the 60's you could catch(and release) 200 bass on Lake of the Pines in a days fishing on poppers; other lakes about as good; toledo bend for example;Caddo at certain times of the year... true the bass were all native; no florida strain, but they were plentiful; very few bass tournaments back then. now days you can fish hard and if you catch 10 it is a great day.
I mostly fish with light rods, small flies, and target brim simply because you can still catch 30-50 in a days fishing; keeps you interested.Everybody preaches how the bass fishing has improved, but theyre mainly talking about how many big bass are caught; much fewer numbers. I love the explosion and the excitement of bass fishing, but I usually fish the optimal "hour" and spend the rest of the day targeting big brim(which are not as big nor as plentiful). Course all this is just one of the downsides of being old as rocks-p-

Catching a nice bass is bonus whilst targeting Blue Gill.
Just love the two scenarios, one of Mr Bucket mouth sipping a big Deer hair slider and the time they explode taking a popper as if it had to be destoyed. Trout are overrated in the eating department, fishing for them is not on my priority list.

another well said

Thanks for the kind words, folks. Sometimes a fella just wakes up and wants to do some creative writing before 7AM. Rex went and inspriated me.

For the record, I don't look down on you trouty folks, or even the (shudder) carpy folks. We've all got our passions, slimy as they may be. haha

In some parts, trouts is all they gots to fish fer.