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Lake Mead, Big Bass
A letter from Greg Pishkur, Flagstaff, AZ

January/February 1996

5:45 a.m. October 7, 1995. There are right at three hundred Champion bass boats idling in Lake Mead's Calville Bay waiting for the safe light. There are two anglers per boat. Six hundred anglers cocked and ready to fish for tens of thousands of dollars of cash and prizes in the prestigious Champion Boat Company's "Tournament of Champions." My partner Terry and I are among the six hundred. We are discussing strategy, technique and fish location while waiting for our number to be called for "blast off." Finally it is our turn! Ninety eight boats have gone out before us. We have about thirty miles to run and get to our first stop. Just past the "no wake" buoy the hammer goes down and we're flyin' low, we're going fishing.

We roll up to our first spot in what seems like a thirty minute eternity. I put the trolling motor down, power up the front graph, Terry's in the water already and I'm right behind him. I'm throwing a 5/8 oz. football head jig with a 031 skirt and single tail grub. My partner Terry is not. In fact Terry is giving me somewhat of a "ration" about those "Bubba" baits I'm throwing. Not having fished with Terry a great deal I decided I would tell him about the real "Bubba" sometime and all of his friends up in the Lake Powell area. Right now however I'm concentrating on working this jig down to 35 and 40 feet of water. Terry is happy throwing his finesse stuff.

20 minutes later: "Nothing much going on off this point, Terry" I said, "Let's continue back into this cove to see what we can see and then we'll move." Keeping the boat over the 50 to 55 foot contour line, about halfway back into the cove I noticed a shelf with great black clouds of shad stacked over it. I backed off of the shelf a half cast or so and pitched that 5/8 oz. Yamamoto jig. On the second or third pitch when I picked the jig up off the bottom it felt a little heavier than normal, not much mind you, just a little bit different. A few years ago when I first started fishing Yamamoto baits I probably would have thought I had a tree limb or some other underwater obstruction. This day, I reacted. I reeled down on the slack and with a quick, hard snap of the wrists, powered the 7' Yamamoto Mod IV grub rod into an arching hookset. The battle was brief but hard fought. A big fish was in the boat. I didn't know it at the time, but that fish would, at 5.32 pounds, be worth $1,000 as the big fish of the tournament. Terry was noticeably impressed. Hearing him muttering something about "Bubba" this or "Bubba" that, I quickly straightened out the skirt/grub combination, checked the hook for any imperfections and pitched it in again. I really don't remember how many casts it was, all I know is that it wasn't over three, that doggone jig was feeling heavy again! A quick, firm snap of the wrists and a reel smokin' run or two later number two was in the boat. Terry wasn't muttering anymore! I distinctly head him ask if he could borrow a "Bubba" bait. Not being one who likes to let an opportunity pass I said, "no, but you can have one of these Yamamoto jigs and have your pick of colors out of my grub box."

A few more fish put us in fourth place and big fish honors. All told, a $2,600 payday. Some people say it's luck. Some people may be right! As far as I'm concerned, luck is where preparation and opportunity come together. My preparation consisted of lots of practice, an array of Yamamoto grub rods (four Model III's, one Model IV and one Model II), a box full of Yamamoto jigs, skirts and grubs as well as a good measure of confidence brought about by years of increasing success with these baits. My opportunity is having a good partner in a good boat on a lake that yields it's secret to those who faithfully keep trying to unlock them.

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