I ask that for a good reason after doing some reading this weekend. While I’ve heard reference to threadfin shad spawning more than just once (a year)–and that in early summer–I really hadn’t confirmed that in my head.

And I should have.

So when I looked at some available data (click here), I realized that yes, there could be multiple shad spawns in the front of summer, and then again later when those conditions generally repeat themselves at the end of summer.

Because of the numbers involved and the reputed short life-span of the baitfish (around two years), it seems pretty apparent that those “mature” or larger shad that are supposed to dominate the fall season, are probably more of a theoretical presence. In other words, if you take a million 2 1/2-inch shad and they lay say 10,000 eggs each, and do this three times in 12 months, what is the forage base going to look like?

The young of year grow to just under an inch in three to four weeks, and maybe up to 2 1/2 inches in the first year. No matter what is left of the mature, max-aged adult shad that are still alive, they are going to be lost in a sea of smaller baitfish. If that’s the case, then, when we drop down in size of our offerings, we are not doing anything unusual, we are just going in with another bite-sized bait.

Yet, that’s not all bad because where this kind of biomass is present, it also means that all the fish–all sizes of predator fish–are faced with equal conditions. And in all likelihood, the fact that shad tend to school by size, and that larger shad hand in the upper stratum of water, it also figures the predators that want more bang for their bite are also shallow.

It’s not enough to match the hatch. I think it’s presentation including levels, angles and vibration may have more to do with drawing strikes. Whatever the finesse methodology, it has to have more to do with drawing attention to the bait, rather than mimicking to the last detail.

What touch do you “add” that draws attention to your bait?

It’s not as easy as you think. You can “bid” what you want, but even the most confident fisherman is probably just guessing with too few clues. On the other hand, if he takes too long to recognize the pattern, the time can slip by unproductively.

Here’s my take, remembering that the pace of the method and the amount of water covered will vary from situation to situation. The hope is there won’t be more than 30 minutes ever separating those bites, though everyone knows it doesn’t always work that way.

ONE BITE: While that first strike could be a result of landing right on the Mother Lode, I’ve been disappointed too many times relying on such a limited sample. You might get a huge blow-up on topwater early and the next bite is 3:15 in the afternoon on a Carolina rig in 30 feet.

The fact is, the first light often features active fish, but sometimes they are on the front side of activity and sometimes they represent the last nip for the night. That’s why one bite ain’t enough.

TWO BITES: I don’t ask for a lot. Give me two bites (and hopefully two fish) whether from the same depth, the same lure, the same retrieve speed or the same kind of cover and I will feel a whole lot better about how I proceed. Yet, I almost don’t want those bites to be too close together. If they come bang-bang, they may only represent one little pocket of fish I happened to stumble on, not a true indication of an activity trend.

Also be leery of a fish or two coming off a known spot or key piece of cover. What you may have is a one or two fish spot–and without any other like cover–you really don’t have a pattern at all.

THREE BITES: This is usually the gold standard. If those three bites/fish are split by two anglers in a relatively short period of time, with at least a couple of  elements in common relative to bait, method or depth, for instance, then I feel I’m off and running.

On one level, having that kind of sampling usually leads to a fourth and fifth bites before you even consciously respond to what you’ve found. But more than that, with two anglers making independent observations of what they feel just happened, it’s less arbitrary. Splitting the bites often leads to either closer scrutiny if the individual’s ideas are slightly different; or if the agreement is more uniform on what has been found, the two anglers usually proceed with greater confidence.

Anyway, this is what works for me. You may have your own ideas on the issue–and it would be great if you laid them out.

While not everyone fishes tournaments, most of us are not out there just to see the sunrise or watch the clouds blow by. As bass fishermen, we want results, whether we’re fishing for a few hours or campaigning for a week.

But to what extremes are we willing to go? I’d like to think that you can raise your game by working on just three things. Yes, it may mean some sacrifices in the short term, but just like a good weight-loss program, you will begin to see a difference in just a few weeks! Really, if you’re not satisfied with how you’re doing, maybe there is something here worth looking at.

1. FIND WHAT’S NEW in the old.

If you fish the same lakes on a regular basis, you’ve probably got yourself into a pattern like, “run to the north end and throw topwater, crank the walls as the sun gets higher, move out to the points as the sun gets overhead.” No argument, but also, no expansion in your game.

What if you started your fishing day at 9 a.m. or 2 p.m. or you started at the south end first? You may fish fewer hours, but you’ll get a new perspective on your familiar waters. Maybe you’ll find shadows in a new part of the lake providing a a different timing for use of topwater or target fishing that you never fished before. The old lake will seem new, and in fact, may open doors when you do fish “new water.”

2. BE WILLING TO EXPERIMENT.

Sean Bailey of Lake Havasu City has talked about this, but sometimes we try to compare our limited amount of fishing time with a pro who’s on the water 200 to 300 days a year. You don’t necessarily need a makeover, you just want to try some reasonable options.

If you like to throw Sworming Hornets, maybe you also try lipless cranks or tailspins in the same situations. Find out if water clarity, fish activity, or a different vibration pattern has an effect on the fish. Don’t talk yourself out of something until you’ve given it a fair try and you’re sure the fish won’t respond. And then, even if they don’t bite one of your options after a few outings, you’ve still learned/confirmed some things.

3. TRUST IN YOUR STUFF.

Pitcher lingo if you’re a baseball fan, but the point here is, if you uncover (I won’t say stumble on, if you were actually seeking) something, go with it. It was way back in the 1980′s that I learned a great lesson while fishing with San Diego’s Greg Gardner. I told him, “They don’t hit a jig along here” or words to that effect. He commenced to bury me with that bait.

I have no advice for anyone now, except that if you think you have something that will work, go with it. It doesn’t matter if every other guy on the pond is using something else, the only thing that matters is what you are committed to. One little warning: If your partner starts to put it on you doing things his way, don’t be stubborn. Take his lead, switch and find his rhythm. Make his stuff your stuff.

JOHN KERR, 2010

As the 2003 U.S. Open champion, Ramona’s John Kerr has been to the top of the mountain in the West. Maybe that’s why he appreciates the desert venue as well as the effort it takes to compete during the brutal summers at Lake Mead.

Though he missed the money in this year’s Open, his 30th place finish was not a total bust. Indeed, there may have been more learned this year than when he finished on top.

Perhaps the biggest lessons to come out of the 2010 U.S. Open were the importance to stay focused and to make adjustments to what you encounter, regardless of what you may have discovered in practice.

As John conveyed, “The first two days of practice, everything wanted to jump on topwater and then lower (in the water column) on the spinnerbait.” But he recalled, “As the water got progressively warmer, I only got one blow up on topwater and the spinnerbait bites dried up.”

One of the unusual things he discovered was while taking a dip between the first and last days of practice. “I could feel my neck was warm but my feet were cold,” he said. “The fish did not want to come up. I watched the difference. As the water temperature went up, I got less bites.”

Typically not one to fish for a “consolation check,” the facts of the matter were that he needed only one more 1-pound bass and secondly, that the conditions were not optimum for a pure reaction fishing approach. “What I saw in practice should have told me,” he confessed. “I should have turned my hat around and changed.”

Beyond the clues he uncovered while on the water, a look at the scoreboard was also telling. As John put it, “The worm guys closed the gap. I knew this.”

Still, his practice days of wide open reaction fishing were hard to discount. “It was so good,” he recalled, but he admitted, “I should have done something (different).” Specifically, in looking at the 13 of a possible 15 fish he did weigh in this year’s Open, he had devoted two hours a day to drop-shotting and caught 10 of his fish. “What if I had invested eight hours?” he asked rhetorically.

This is where the issue of focus and decision-making enters in. We’re all pretty smart in our air-conditioned offices with our 20:20 hindsight. But as John noted, “(The heat) was taxing; I hit the wall every day. My stomach was full of water and I’m still thirsty. You find yourself checking out and you tell yourself to ‘Start thinking’, or ask ‘What am I doing here?’

“I checked out half a dozen times in the tournament,” he confessed, but recognizes his perspective is much different a week after the tournament. “It’s easy to second guess. I should have fished a jig and a worm more. I convinced myself to do otherwise.”

(Click on to enlarge images)

I sorta get it. Many so-called collectibles were created from promotional gimmicks. Heck, the fact they put bubble gum in packs of trading cards was as much to sell the gum and it was to sell the cards.

Still, when we learned last week that the “post season” for the Bassmaster Elite Series would be marked by Bass Pro Shops (in Prattville, Ala.) giving out one of a set of 12 Elite qualifier cards with each purchase for a chance at 400 prizes in what’s called the “Bassmaster Collect & Win Contest,” I was not impressed. A mere 12 cards, in my eyes, does not make much of a set.

And more than that, I’m willing to bet that most fishermen don’t know that the whole bass trading card thing was a California idea. Just as so many other cool things come from the Golden State, it was Michael Jones, former Western Outdoor News as well as Bassmaster Senior Writer, who came up with the original Pro League bass cards.

But not only were those first three sets (1990-1993) both curious and collectible, they were much more. Looking back, the sets actually chronicled the top pros of that era, highlighted important achievements in the history of the sport, and truly elevated the fishermen as notable “sports” figures. Indeed, one of the great ironies of these sets is the sport’s most significant figure–Roland Martin–was not included, for at the time, he did not own the rights to his own name and likeness!

So, while I intended to trim this story down, instead, I’ve decided to let Jones relate the story in his own words:

“Anyone who remembers the very late 1980s, remembers the absolute frenzy for trading cards of all kinds. With professional bass fishing on the cusp of going big-time, I saw an opportunity.

With the support of Al Kalin and an Apple computer, I decided to pursue the idea of providing pro fishermen with something for their fans. Since so many companies and individuals were dipping into the trading card market, I felt that keeping a low profile was the best strategy. As a BASS Senior Writer, I had access to the pros and their trust.

Slowly, I contacted the pros, one-by-one, taking their pictures as time permitted and building a groundswell for the idea. To a man – and woman – the idea met with total support. The pros wanted to be looked upon as professionals in a professional sport. This, in a small way, was confirmation of that notion. At the time, I could promise them nothing other than a quality product. Ultimately, we paid them $100 per angler – more as a thank you than anything else. But, $100 times 50 was an upfront cost on a product that had no track record in fishing. Call it a leap of faith.

With the card design done, printing arranged and all of the other thousand details attended to, I decided I needed a few more big names to round out the set. Of these, Ray Scott was number one.

At the time, I didn’t have Ray’s number, so I called BASSMaster editor Dave Precht. Within moments of laying out my plan, Dave immediately said that I better speak to Helen Sevier (CEO). His comment was this “We were thinking of doing that.” It didn’t sound good. In no time, Helen was on the phone giving me one of the soundest tongue-lashings I have ever experienced.

This was not a no, but a hell, no. When I found a moment in this tirade to plead my case, I told her honestly that my secrecy had nothing to do with BASS. Why would I be calling Ray if that were the case? Naively, I thought they would be ecstatic that someone within the BASS family was doing something to promote their most valuable asset. I could not have been more wrong.

At the time, I offered Helen exactly what I planned to offer Ray – a cut of the proceeds if BASS wanted to add their logo and market the cards as a BASS product, promotional item, whatever.

Nothing I said made a bit of difference. I was told very simply, “Do not do this.” For me, with the project nearing completion, there was no alternative. And, perhaps hearing the words of Hank Williams Jr. in my brain, it was a case of “If you think I won’t, then believe I will.”

It didn’t take long to realize I had just been excommunicated from the church of bass fishing. Not Dave Precht, not Matt Vincent, no one could save me. So, I moved on. Taking a job with Kalin and moving forward with the cards.

When the cards came out, we had Bass pro Shops interested and other outlets on line to distribute them across the country. Admittedly, the difference between what we could do without BASS support or with it was huge. Nevertheless, we forged ahead and created a grass roots interest.

Personally, I had gained the absolute respect of the fishermen. They knew I had stood up to Helen and taken a huge hit for a product that would ultimately benefit them more than it did Kalin or me. To this day, it is one of the things that gives me the most satisfaction. Yes, I wanted to make a buck, but I knew it would never be anything that significant – at least in the short run.

One story that has never been told was this: The first set of cards were called “Big League Bass.” I thought it was a fitting title for a sport just ready to break out. What I didn’t count on was a guy by the name of Jim Bouton. For those who may recall, Bouton was a major-league pitcher who wrote the first tell-all book about the public and private lives of his major league colleagues. Predictably, Bouton was not embraced buy his fellow players for violating the clubhouse creed of “What is said her, what you see here, stays here.”

Out of the blue, Bouton calls me and basically threatens me with legal action if I don’t change the name of the cards. Somehow, he felt this was detrimental to the name of his “Big League Chew” bubble gum. While I felt he had no legal claim, the fact of the matter is that anyone can sue anyone over anything. And, as a ballplayer who competed from a child through young adulthood, I knew the kind of guy I was dealing with. If you could dump on your teammates, you could do anything. Not to mention selling bubble gum that duplicated chewing tobacco. As a result, the name was changed the following year (1991) to Pro League Bass.

Perhaps the best review I had of the trading cards was the one delivered by a national trading card magazine. It was a backhanded compliment in some ways when they said that the staff really wanted to hate bass fishing cards, but the quality was so superior, they couldn’t help but give them a thumbs up. At the time, their reaction was similar to many in the general public who laughed when the words “professional” and “bass fisherman” were used in the same sentence.

When we debuted the cards at the BassMaster Classic, BASS was none too happy. We had several local fishing dealers selling the cards at the 1991 BassMaster Classic in Baltimore. Fortunately, I knew what to expect and had already discussed the matter with Pat Marley. In keeping with what is now a legendary career, Marley knew what to do. Having previously represented Rick Clunn when BASS thought they could limit the sponsor patches on pro jerseys to BASS-related sponsors, Marley knew that a simple injunction could stop the Classic in its track. He held that card with Clunn and did the same with me. When Helen’s nephew approached me at the Classic show and relayed the BASS directive that I could not sell my cards at the show, I simply handed him a Pat Marley business card with the instructions to give it to his aunt. She would know what to do. Which, of course, was nothing.

About two or so years into this ridiculous situation, I felt it was time to approach Helen. Both Dave Precht and Matt Vincent wanted me back and I wanted the same. I moved on as a reinstated BASS senior writer.

Did the cards make a difference? Perhaps, perhaps not. At least, there was one guy at the Chicago Classic who make the local papers as he tried to complete a fully autographed collection of Big League and Pro Bass cards.

What never happened was a yearly card set that would have chronicled the modern rise of bass fishing as a legitimate sport.”

I know we live in the big bait era, and I really want to get in on it more. But unlike those fellows who are building up a career of fishing preeminence, I still get a lot of satisfaction in just getting bit. And along the way, when I get bit enough, sprinkled in are a surprising number of decent, if not quality fish in the mix.

Only I’m really not sure why, since a lot of the baits I rely on are pretty small: 4 inch worms and grubs and, of course, I give them a pretty good dose of plain old Road Runners. Still one of the best buys in hard baits, even with a 2-inch trailer and a #2 willow blade, the whole bait is barely two inches long overall.

In a world of 13-inch worms and 8-inch swimbaits, I realize I’m not going to impress the biggest bass in the lake, but a whole lot of muscular 3 1/2 to 7-pounders keep biting my lure every year. Just last week, when bites were as hard to find as Mickey Mantle rookie cards, the few bites I did get were good ones. In fact, on another day or maybe another season, no telling how much the 24-incher I busted might have weighed.

But just looking at the maw on that South Beach dieter (left), I wonder what was the magic of such a small bait? True, in the weeks immediately following the spawn we see “fry guarders” and in the months that follow that, there are lots of young-of-the-year shad, crappie, bluegill and bass in the water. But why pick out one of those nibs when there are bigger baits to swallow?

I don’t know. Maybe my two-turn, stop-and-go retrieve with the ‘Runner just shows them an easy meal. Or maybe, they weren’t really interested, but they took a nip and got caught. One thing that has really helped me is I have switched to the 8-pound “green” (heck, it’s fluorescent chartreuse, Berkley boys) Fireline and when there is a hesitation, pause or twitch in the line, I am on them. And my 8-foot rod doesn’t hurt either.

But maybe we don’t always have to know why it works. We just have to keep doing what works.

THE PROS think 'big picture' in practice

Due to technology, we live in the great era of the waypoint. Just like the vacuum cleaner salesman who has your GPS coordinates, he also has access to your home address–but that doesn’t mean he’ll make his sales quota.

In a similar fashion, I see this great memory and mapping device, which clearly reduces “return time,” is creating some fallout. Where you’d think having such a tool would encourage the expansion of an angler’s scope, it seems to have the reverse effect. Like gathering bottle caps, for some anglers, GPS has turned bass fishing into a hobby of collecting waypoints or spots, instead of developing the more valuable skill—of finding fish.

And here’s why. Bass live or “operate” within areas. They are not tethered to the bottom like a mooring buoy. And even if they were, wouldn’t it be better to know where the marinas were located rather than hunting for isolated bricks on the bottom?

Don’t get me wrong. I want the modern bass angler to utilize every lawful tool at his or her disposal. On the other hand, the best fishermen aren’t the guys with the most waypoints anymore than the editor of the unabridged dictionary is the world’s best writer. Sure, the team with 50 spots logged at Diamond Valley may have some kind of edge in that deepwater reservoir. But if he draws out 49th in a weekend tournament, will he be more or less competitive?

The best bass fishermen probe areas and that is where they find spots. And truly, if you follow the Bill Siemantel theory, you can then take it even further, recognizing the even more specific “spot on spots.”

But there is an order to how it happens.

First, there are physical features to consider. Topographical maps and sonar are often the first tools to rely on, although sometimes you can find clues at Google Earth or even a simple outline map.

Topography, geology and local flora may each play a roll, especially on the big waters in the West. From these we find elevation changes, bottom make-up and plant life, the latter contributing from everything from shade on the water to stimulating the food chain.

Second, there are environmental issues. Wind direction, forage species (aquatic and terrestrial), current, water clarity, seasonal and daily sun angles may each play a role. Wind direction sets up certain daily feeding patterns as fry, sunfish or shad all occupy certain portions of the water column as dragonflies, lizards, bird hatchlings, frogs or other creatures may be unique to the littoral zone.

Add moving water from tributaries or wind action and bass will position accordingly, utilizing a riffled surface or turbidity to cover their shallow forays, in addition to the reliable benefits of shadow. The combination of physical and environmental elements are what make up a spot—but each is a product the physical features and environmental characteristics of an area.

But even that may not be enough. You still have the issue of timing. Although it is arguable that bass use a specific “place” as a jumping off point to feed, cruise or suspend, at some time, the issue is: “When does that happen?”

Tidal fishermen have an advantage in knowing local fish behavior because it’s on a table. But in reservoirs, fishermen need to ascertain when bass are most often or likely feeding or, at least, reacting to baits in an area (and the spots therein) otherwise, he will waste valuable time.

Understanding the timing associated with spots within those areas is the key to success—not merely having endless spots to choose from.

Wouldn’t you agree?

Yet, we have no real means to measure their relative value, so basically we’re stuck trying associate bites or fish caught with color, blade configuration, retrieve speed or something we feel is constant.

In clear water, the rules for success include the ability of a bait to run true (upright) at a fast retrieve. Ball bearing swivels, smaller blades, thin wire forms and translucent skirts all contribute to drawing reaction strikes, without the fish getting a good look.

On the other hand, in murky water, regardless of the cover, the strike zone shrinks, and a lower vibration frequency probably trumps flash, since lower light penetration means less light is reflected. Once fish home in on that vibration/sound combination, (or that lure closely approaches the fish’s position) a bass reacts first to the lure’s presence then at the last instant it “turns” when it finds/sees the skirted jig portion of the bait.

This explanation makes the most sense. And it has been confirmed to me (and lots of other veteran spinnerbait tossers) who have caught fish with the spinnerbait either “upside down” in the lower jaw or even stranger, with the hook point going from the outside of the mouth in, rather than inside out. These could only occur with a violent–and last second recognition of the true baitfish portion of the lure–or secondarily, by the same violent water movement causing a strike sensation where the angler reacts and sets the hook and in effect, hooks the fish on the outside of the mouth.

Either way, it is clear the fish are not trailing behind the bait for an easy kill, they are striking with abandon.

But as important as any element in spinnerbait fishing is the level it is fished. Many don’t like the Bill Siemantel terminology of “Top, Middle, Bottom” but the levels exist in 3 feet of water as much as they do in 20 to 60 feet. It’s particularly evident in shallow murky water, where distances are short, yet fish normally don’t move much up or down to strike.

Where Havasu or Lake Mead bass strike fast movers in the top of the water column over grass or along 6 inch slivers of shade along walls, in the dingy water the fish are more reticent. Secure at two or three feet below the surface in barely three or four feet, the fish don’t or won’t move much. A spinnerbait needs to “stay down” so a heavier lure or one with less blade surface area (tandem willow as opposed to double willow) better accommodates the fish behavior.

And only the fisherman can make this happen.

'SLOW FALL' IS IMPRECISE TERM

They sound the same, and some could argue, they mean the same. But when you’re talking lure presentation, there seems a difference between “sink rate” and those descriptions of a lure’s “fall rate.”

I don’t mean to split hairs. Bill Siemantel (Big Bass Zone, p 217) speaks of “fall rate” in discussing swimbaits that drop the through the water column more slowly, and as he puts it, “The longer it takes for a swimbait to the hit the bottom in a given water depth, the slower you can retrieve the lure without fouling or snagging it.”

GET THE FISH TO COMMIT

However, I also know Bill as a stickler for precision. And when he speaks of specific swimbaits or other sinking lures, I think he really wants to know a lure’s actual “sink rate” which might be 1-, 2- 5-feet per two, five or whatever number of seconds. That’s an actual “rate” and is critical to lure control.

For other lures, the issue is much more subjective. Over the years, the concept of a “slow fall” has been much harder to define and is far less precise. It the emerging years of the flipping technique, Dee Thomas often used a half-ounce or heavier jig head, which, at the time, seemed inordinately heavy for such shallow fishing—and certainly at odds with the conventional tackle in use at the time.

But David Myers, who co-authored Fenwick’s “The Whole Flippin’ Story” explained that when you factor in the longer, heavier rod and 20-pound test mono, under angler control (vertically was his desire) the jig descends more slowly.

Fast forward to the great Day of the Senko and the same factors are in play. The Senko does fall slowly and quivers on the way down. Other less salty baits, however, fall even more slowly, and some require a weighted hook or other method to get a matching sink rate.

But the unweighted Senko is neither a coverage nor contour bait. It has a lot more riding on the placement of its initial fall and our desire (or hope) that it is close to where bass will see it—if not immediately, within a couple of lift-and-fall maneuverings.

For most contour fishing, however, if the bait does not elicit a bite “on a slow fall,” which is both vague and which changes with line diameter, weight in use and the number, size and configuration of the bait’s appendages, it seems less essential. In fact, it might be unnecessary most days to wait for a lure to hit the bottom.

Thus in my mind, that only emphasizes the difference between an arbitrary fall rate of a lure and the precision of a sink rate, so we need to look at the terms as two different issues.

Still, I’d be interested in your take…

But ease of handling with braid compared to the same situations with nylon or straight fluoro–with spinning gear–also does you a big favor. Braid use literally precludes reel damage caused by inadvertent loops of the razor-like “monos.”

And what I’ve found with a switch to braid is I’ve now been able to bring older reels back into service–where mono had “grooved” so bad, the scarred metal was continually grabbing the loops. After half a day of fishing, the line would start to fray, right at the length of a standard cast–because that’s where the loops would most likely occur.

While a lot of design measures have been incorporated into each new generation of spinning reels including reduced twist line rollers  and elimination of “sharp” corners or edges around the bail pick-up, hard use of mono, shaking worms or constant casting under-spins or flukes produces enough line twist and loops will appear.

If you have regularly used spinning for these applications, you probably have reels that show the grooves that catch loops and wear out the line. But instead of buying new stuff, I found I could take a diamond file (or other gentle abrasive) and smooth out the grooves, then put a couple of coats of car wax on the area–and, of course, switch to braid for the best results.

I don’t believe the super lines will replace nylon or fluorocarbon mono in every situation. I like the stretch of those proven products to soften the “bounce” of my darts and wacky jigs in say, less than 15 to 20 feet of water. But when I see that I can cut down on both repeated line purchases, not to mention, putting otherwise perfectly good reels back into service, I think it’s a decent idea.

And now, with a little polishing, reels like this Pflueger President (left), and filled with “superline,” can give many more years of service.