Dedicated to the Pursuit of Warmwater Fish in Georgia's Rivers and Streams


GRF Home About GRF River Descriptions GRF Message BoardSupport GRF Links & Resources Braggin' Board GRF Store


Forbidden Places

Editors Note: Since I no longer fish and have nothing to write about, I swiped this outstanding little story by Troy Winebarger (shoalieman) off the GRF Message Board late one night before anyone could read it. I considered putting my name on it, but Troy is much bigger than I am. This story will make you feel like a kid again...

      As kids, we always wanted to fish Weidman's pond for largemouth bass. Mr. Weidman was the only one who ever fished it and he died when I was still quite young. Now, only a relative or two would fish it and not very often at that. The fish were there, oh boy were they there.

    Yep, they'd swim nonchalantly around the clear waters of the pond just daring you to get caught trying to fish for them. We were allowed to walk around the pond and even skip stones on its surface-anytime we wanted to. When it froze over, we played countless games of ice hockey on it, homemade goals and everything a boy needed to take a slapshot on the shins. Heck, we could do everything but fish in it. It seemed like the bass knew it.

    Even though Mr. Weidman was no longer with us, his brother and family still lived on the farm where the pond was, and guarded it as though the largemouth bass was a  species close to extinction. However, we had one thing going for us, the barn.

    You see, the big red barn blocked the family's view of one small corner of the pond, still too dangerous to try during broad daylight of course. Additionally, if we were ever caught, we took the chance of permanently being banned from skipping stones and playing ice hockey there-too big of a risk to take. It was the only pond within a 3 or 4 minute walk of my house, and to be banned would have been unbearable. So we devised the plan of all plans.

    We would sneak in well after sunset armed with a handful of topwater baits. Furthermore, we would stay on the corner of the pond blocked by the big red barn. We still needed the trusty barn because we had to go on or close to the full moon. With ice hockey rights and privileges at stake, we could not use a flashlight and turn the odds in the Weidman's favor. Nope, it was a couple topwaters and the light of the moon or bust.

    Well the plan worked, and it taught us how to topwater fish to boot. You couldn't see those once-cocky bass hit the floating lure, so you had to wait until you felt the pull on your line. I would learn later that this is a major key to topwater bassin'. Many a fine bass has been lost by well meaning anglers seeing the rising fish and pulling the lure from its reach.

    Darn, this was as much fun as a boy that age could have. The bass, who owned us 99% of the time, were now ours behind the safety of the barn and under the protection of nightfall. It felt good to finally master them, it felt even better to release them back into their well-protected pond after we had our rendezvous with them.

    I learned that it's hard to keep quiet when you catch a bass on top, we wanted to yell every time a bass smashed those floating Rebel plugs. Fear of getting caught turned our shouts of joy into giggles and subdued laughter. I doubt it'd been half as fun if we did not have to sneak in there to fish, and I know the fishin' wouldn't have been half as good.

    Thank you full moon and thank you big red barn, you have opened windows of oppurtunity that little boys like me haven't forgotten. Oh yeah, thanks to the bass that made our young hearts full of joy and merriment. I wonder if that barn is still standing and if any kids are waiting for the next full moon?  

                                                                                             Thanks Troy!!  


Suggestions? E-mail us at grf-at symbol-negia-dot-com

Back to Georgia River Fishing Homepage

Back to American River Fishing Homepage

2007 American River Fishing. All rights reserved.