Southern Classic - Remembered (A mini novel)

Well, I'm home now and have somewhat recovered from the trip. Now it's time
to put all my memories down.

The trip down was a real bear, but worth every minute. Would I do it again?
You bet I would, except this time, I'd bring three thermos bottles of coffee
and more Ho-Ho's.

When I arrived at the Pier II, Randy, Harry and Michael (ThunderKitty) were
wandering around the parking lot. Hugs, handshakes and loud greetings were
in order. Matthew (from Ontario) soon joined the group and introductions
were made. Matthew suggested that I might want to lie down and catch a few
z's (I looked that bad huh?) and after getting my stuff into the room, I
tried that. But between the caffiene buzz and Lady Okeechobee calling,
sleep was impossible.

Out the door I went, to find Harry, Randy and Michael on the Wharf dock,
rods in hand, trying for their first Big O bass. Several were caught off
the dock and I tried to get a Tilapia to bite, unsuccessfully I might add.

It wasn't too long before we decided to drop the Cobra into the rim canal
and give it a whirl. The Cobra fired right up and everything worked
flawlessly. I was worried after the winter we'd had, because my livewells
had frozen on my last guide job of the year and I was worried about broken
pumps and fittings, but everything was fine. Randy, Matthew and I worked
the edges of the canal and it wasn't long before Florida Fish and Game eased
up alongside and asked for a license check. Randy showed his, I had gotten
mine earlier in the day and Matthew had kind of a "Deer in the Headlights"
look as he realized that his license was in our hotel room! It was his
lucky day indeed as he was given a friendly warning to keep the license with
him whenever he was fishing and they took off up the canal. We boated a few
smaller bass, and I lost a nice one that took a Fluke, so happy and
exhausted, we made our way back to the hotel.

That night, others arrived and the bs flew high and wide, it was great to
see friends from past tournaments. Chris, Jim and their friends had gotten
down earlier and were on fish, with some nice catches, I was starting to
worry a little.

Randy, Matthew and I followed Moe the next day to Eagle Bay for practice.
We caught some decent fish, but nothing that would raise an eyebrow of an
experienced Okechobee basser. But I was feeling a little better about my
chances.

On Thursday, we tried several different areas, and in Cody's Cove, I hooked
a good fish on a 3/8th oz. Secret Weapon in baby bass color. With the weed
growth like it is, you really have to put a lot of pressure on a fish if you
expect to land it and that's what I tried to do. But that's not easy when
you have 5 1/2 pounds of irate bass on the other end. Matthew put the old
lip lock on it and swung it into the boat. That was my largest Florida bass
and I was impressed with the fight. Actually, I was impressed with the
fight of all the bass down there. Many times I hooked a fish and thought,
"here's a good one," only to find it was 14 or 15 inches long.

Thursday night's meeting was like all other ROFB tournament meetings. There
was so much laughing and talking going on that it was tough for Moe to get
everyone's attention. Partners were established for the first day and once
again, talking and laughing went far into the night.

Friday morning came and once all the boats were launched, we blasted off.
We made a kinda long run to the east side of the lake. I'm used to running
in shallow water, and when Moe made a cut into a pretty heavy bank of weeds,
I wasn't concerned. But when we started running at 60 mph through
bullrushes and lily pads, I started to tense up a bit. I know how shallow
the water is where these weeds typically grow and I figured that as soon as
I saw Moe's boat stop suddenly, or when the motor came flying up onto the
back deck, I was going to break hard left or right. It didn't happen, but I
did make sure I raised the jackplate as the boat came off plane.

Heavy, Rob Storm and I began chunking lures in all directions, flipping
mostly soft plastics into pockets in the heavy weed growth. We began to get
bit, Kevin on a Trick Worm and me on a Zoom Fluke. I was feeling pretty
optimistic about our chances as Kevin, fishing the back of the boat started
putting keepers in the livewell. He was like a fish catching machine,
starting to cull when Rob and I had only one keeper in the livewell! Kevin
was getting the majority of his bites on a Trick worm and a Secret Weapon
spinnerbait, I was getting bit on flukes and Rob in the middle tried just
about everything in his tacklebox I think. As the day progressed, I finally
got my limit and even culled a few.

As we worked our way through the area, I pitched a fluke onto some lily pads
and inched it off, letting it fall at the edge of the pads. I watched a
HUGE bass (a 10+ maybe?) ease out, inhale the fluke completely, turn and
dive. I hesitated a split second and blasted the fish, knowing that if she
got into the pads, my chances were slim of landing her. I turned the fish
on the hookset and kept heavy pressure on her, bringing her closer to the
boat. Then, the lure popped out! Crestfallen, I watched her disappear.
What happened? I don't know, maybe I hit her too hard, tearing a hole that
allowed the hook to pull free. 50 pound PowerPro, a flippin stick and an
adreniline surge can create a lot of force...

Later in the day, we were working through a Kissimmee Grass flat, throwing
spinnerbaits when I felt a hit. I set the hook but it didn't feel right. I
was amazed when I saw a HUGE bluegill with the hook in it's mouth. That
went into the livewell with the rest of the fish, as this rascal is going to
the taxidermist tomorrow to have a replica mold made. Shortly after that, I
made a long cast with that baby bass Secret Weapon. I saw/felt some eel
grass fouling the blade and gave the rod a rip to clear the blade. As I did
this, I saw a flash and felt the hit. When I set the hook, the rod just
stopped! I knew right there and then that this was a good one. I tried
really hard to ski that bass, and almost succeeded. A couple short runs
under the boat, and some expert netting by Rob and the bass was in the
livewell. Moe heard the whooping and hollaring, so I guess the old boy's
hearing is better than I thought. They came by a short while later, and
while I tried to play it cool and told him that I "had a limit", he knew
better and pressed me until I fessed up that I had a good one. It was great
to fish and spend time with Kevin and Rob, I'm proud to call these gentlemen
my friends.

Weigh in was exciting as the "Boyz from Illinoyz" had a good day. I was
pretty far down in the standings, but felt that I wasn't out of the game
yet. Heck, with the quality of fish in that big puddle, no one was out of
it at the end of day one. And no one was as surprised as me to find out
that I had Big Fish. I knew it was good but not that good. I never dreamed
that it would weigh better than 6 pounds and hold up to be the big fish of
the tournament. I was happy enough having that honor for the first day.

That night we drew partners for the next day and I drew Michael Jenkins
(ThunderKitty) and because of the boater/non-boater ratio imbalance, and the
somewhat larger than usual decks in my boat, I got another non-boater, Pat
Gustafson.

Day Two dawned clear, with bluebird skies, beautiful to look at, but not my
idea of a good fishing day. I knew that they would be buried deep and we'd
have to dig them out of the heavy cover. Fishing "low and slow" would be
the key to putting fish in the boat.

Once again, Moe and I made the trip across the lake. Okeechobee was rolling
a little bit and I slowed down somewhat after we hit one wave that had Pat
and Michael's behinds leaving the seats. One glance at the looks on their
faces made me back off the HotFoot a tad, otherwise I might have had a
mutiny on my hands.

We hit the same area that I'd worked on Day One. Slowly we worked through,
pitching mostly plastics. For me, flukes were the lure of the day. Dink
after dink came into the boat, and I didn't draw an easy breath until the
first keeper was in the well. I thought it was tough fishing and knew there
was going to be some people coming into the weigh-in without limits. But,
still in the back of my mind, I was wondering if somewhere on the lake,
there was a hot bite going on and we were missing it. But, I decided to
stay where we were, putting my faith in experience and gut reaction.

Slowly I picked up a fish here and a fish there, all on soft plastics. One
pocket in the bullrushes looked fishy and I dropped a fluke in. The way the
lure was taken made me think, "here's a good one." I reeled down on it and
knew I was going to have to really put the hurt to it if I wanted to get it
out. At the hookset, once again, the rod stopped and I continued to
pressure the fish. In a microsecond from the hookset, there was a POW like
a rifle going off. It was my flippin stick coming apart about two feet from
the tip! Luckily, the mongo hookset did pull the fish from that heavy cover
and Michael was Johnny on the Spot with the net. At 5.03 pounds, it helped
quite a bit.

Pat hammered a nice fish and it really put a bend in the rod. I was excited
at the possibility of another big bass. When he got it closer to the boat,
it turned out to be a big dogfish. Michael got into the toothy critter act
as well, landing one that weighed in at 5.75 pounds. But shortly before we
had to leave for weigh-in, I topped them with my own toothy critter.

I just couldn't help myself as a gator surfaced. I thought I could reach it
with a cast and fired a fluke on my Pike Rod. The first cast missed and I
cranked in and tried again. This time, the cast was perfect, I didn't
really think that a gator would be interested in something as small as a
fluke, but he lunched it! I set the hook out of reflex and the fight was
on. Pat and Michael thought I was nuts and it was going to be over quick,
as the gator was in the six to seven foot class. They were amazed as I
started working the gator, bringing him to the boat. Even with the Curado's
drag cranked down as tight as I could turn it, the gator still stripped line
and I had to thumb the spool when pumping it to the boat. Three times I had
the p.o.'d reptile to the boat before I realized that there was no getting
the lure back so I pointed the rod at him and broke the hook off. Dang that
was fun.

The lake settled down for the return trip and we made good time cruising
open water. I was amazed at the size of the gators that roamed open water.
We saw some good sized ones in the weeds but it seemed that the real
monsters were in the open. Why is that Moe?

Weigh in was tense for me. Talking to the others, there were some that
blanked, but there was a big deficit to overcome from the good bags weighed
in the day before. Some nice fish were in bags, and I didn't think that I'd
finish high in the standings, or that my 6 pounder would stand as Big Fish.

In the end, as everyone knows, Dave won it all, and did it under tough
conditions, but I was pleased that my fish stood and that I came in third.

Saturday night, The Brahma Bull did a good job taking care of 19 hungry
fishermen, and Moe was great as Master of Ceremonies. Even now, I sit back
and think, if I had to do it over again, solo drive and all, would I?

I'd do it in a heartbeat.

So, if there's anyone out there thinking, "I'm not into tournament fishing,"
or "I'm not good enough," or some other reason, think again. It's not just
winning a tournament, it's about the fishing, it's about the friendships,
it's about the good times, it's about fishing different lakes in different
parts of the country. It's about everything that's right about this sport.

Sorry to be so long winded, but sometimes, the words just don't stop coming
out. Thanks Moe, thanks Doc and Sue for taking the time to host the
Southern Classic. Believe me, I know what it's like and how much work is
involved, and I really appreciate it.
--
Steve @ OutdoorFrontiers
http://www.outdoorfrontiers.com
G & S Guide Service and Custom Rods
http://www.herefishyfishy.com

Nice mini novel !!

btw check your e-mail


--
---- Chris S ----

( replace com with net to E-mail)

"Steve @ OutdoorFrontiers" wrote in
message ...
Well, I'm home now and have somewhat recovered from the trip. Now it's
time
to put all my memories down.

The trip down was a real bear, but worth every minute. Would I do it
again?
You bet I would, except this time, I'd bring three thermos bottles of
coffee
and more Ho-Ho's.

When I arrived at the Pier II, Randy, Harry and Michael (ThunderKitty)
were
wandering around the parking lot. Hugs, handshakes and loud greetings
were
in order. Matthew (from Ontario) soon joined the group and introductions
were made. Matthew suggested that I might want to lie down and catch a
few
z's (I looked that bad huh?) and after getting my stuff into the room, I
tried that. But between the caffiene buzz and Lady Okeechobee calling,
sleep was impossible.

Out the door I went, to find Harry, Randy and Michael on the Wharf dock,
rods in hand, trying for their first Big O bass. Several were caught off
the dock and I tried to get a Tilapia to bite, unsuccessfully I might add.

It wasn't too long before we decided to drop the Cobra into the rim canal
and give it a whirl. The Cobra fired right up and everything worked
flawlessly. I was worried after the winter we'd had, because my livewells
had frozen on my last guide job of the year and I was worried about broken
pumps and fittings, but everything was fine. Randy, Matthew and I worked
the edges of the canal and it wasn't long before Florida Fish and Game
eased
up alongside and asked for a license check. Randy showed his, I had
gotten
mine earlier in the day and Matthew had kind of a "Deer in the Headlights"
look as he realized that his license was in our hotel room! It was his
lucky day indeed as he was given a friendly warning to keep the license
with
him whenever he was fishing and they took off up the canal. We boated a
few
smaller bass, and I lost a nice one that took a Fluke, so happy and
exhausted, we made our way back to the hotel.

That night, others arrived and the bs flew high and wide, it was great to
see friends from past tournaments. Chris, Jim and their friends had
gotten
down earlier and were on fish, with some nice catches, I was starting to
worry a little.

Randy, Matthew and I followed Moe the next day to Eagle Bay for practice.
We caught some decent fish, but nothing that would raise an eyebrow of an
experienced Okechobee basser. But I was feeling a little better about my
chances.

On Thursday, we tried several different areas, and in Cody's Cove, I
hooked
a good fish on a 3/8th oz. Secret Weapon in baby bass color. With the
weed
growth like it is, you really have to put a lot of pressure on a fish if
you
expect to land it and that's what I tried to do. But that's not easy when
you have 5 1/2 pounds of irate bass on the other end. Matthew put the old
lip lock on it and swung it into the boat. That was my largest Florida
bass
and I was impressed with the fight. Actually, I was impressed with the
fight of all the bass down there. Many times I hooked a fish and thought,
"here's a good one," only to find it was 14 or 15 inches long.

Thursday night's meeting was like all other ROFB tournament meetings.
There
was so much laughing and talking going on that it was tough for Moe to get
everyone's attention. Partners were established for the first day and
once
again, talking and laughing went far into the night.

Friday morning came and once all the boats were launched, we blasted off.
We made a kinda long run to the east side of the lake. I'm used to
running
in shallow water, and when Moe made a cut into a pretty heavy bank of
weeds,
I wasn't concerned. But when we started running at 60 mph through
bullrushes and lily pads, I started to tense up a bit. I know how shallow
the water is where these weeds typically grow and I figured that as soon
as
I saw Moe's boat stop suddenly, or when the motor came flying up onto the
back deck, I was going to break hard left or right. It didn't happen, but
I
did make sure I raised the jackplate as the boat came off plane.

Heavy, Rob Storm and I began chunking lures in all directions, flipping
mostly soft plastics into pockets in the heavy weed growth. We began to
get
bit, Kevin on a Trick Worm and me on a Zoom Fluke. I was feeling pretty
optimistic about our chances as Kevin, fishing the back of the boat
started
putting keepers in the livewell. He was like a fish catching machine,
starting to cull when Rob and I had only one keeper in the livewell!
Kevin
was getting the majority of his bites on a Trick worm and a Secret Weapon
spinnerbait, I was getting bit on flukes and Rob in the middle tried just
about everything in his tacklebox I think. As the day progressed, I
finally
got my limit and even culled a few.

As we worked our way through the area, I pitched a fluke onto some lily
pads
and inched it off, letting it fall at the edge of the pads. I watched a
HUGE bass (a 10+ maybe?) ease out, inhale the fluke completely, turn and
dive. I hesitated a split second and blasted the fish, knowing that if
she
got into the pads, my chances were slim of landing her. I turned the fish
on the hookset and kept heavy pressure on her, bringing her closer to the
boat. Then, the lure popped out! Crestfallen, I watched her disappear.
What happened? I don't know, maybe I hit her too hard, tearing a hole
that
allowed the hook to pull free. 50 pound PowerPro, a flippin stick and an
adreniline surge can create a lot of force...

Later in the day, we were working through a Kissimmee Grass flat, throwing
spinnerbaits when I felt a hit. I set the hook but it didn't feel right.
I
was amazed when I saw a HUGE bluegill with the hook in it's mouth. That
went into the livewell with the rest of the fish, as this rascal is going
to
the taxidermist tomorrow to have a replica mold made. Shortly after that,
I
made a long cast with that baby bass Secret Weapon. I saw/felt some eel
grass fouling the blade and gave the rod a rip to clear the blade. As I
did
this, I saw a flash and felt the hit. When I set the hook, the rod just
stopped! I knew right there and then that this was a good one. I tried
really hard to ski that bass, and almost succeeded. A couple short runs
under the boat, and some expert netting by Rob and the bass was in the
livewell. Moe heard the whooping and hollaring, so I guess the old boy's
hearing is better than I thought. They came by a short while later, and
while I tried to play it cool and told him that I "had a limit", he knew
better and pressed me until I fessed up that I had a good one. It was
great
to fish and spend time with Kevin and Rob, I'm proud to call these
gentlemen
my friends.

Weigh in was exciting as the "Boyz from Illinoyz" had a good day. I was
pretty far down in the standings, but felt that I wasn't out of the game
yet. Heck, with the quality of fish in that big puddle, no one was out of
it at the end of day one. And no one was as surprised as me to find out
that I had Big Fish. I knew it was good but not that good. I never
dreamed
that it would weigh better than 6 pounds and hold up to be the big fish of
the tournament. I was happy enough having that honor for the first day.

That night we drew partners for the next day and I drew Michael Jenkins
(ThunderKitty) and because of the boater/non-boater ratio imbalance, and
the
somewhat larger than usual decks in my boat, I got another non-boater, Pat
Gustafson.

Day Two dawned clear, with bluebird skies, beautiful to look at, but not
my
idea of a good fishing day. I knew that they would be buried deep and
we'd
have to dig them out of the heavy cover. Fishing "low and slow" would be
the key to putting fish in the boat.

Once again, Moe and I made the trip across the lake. Okeechobee was
rolling
a little bit and I slowed down somewhat after we hit one wave that had Pat
and Michael's behinds leaving the seats. One glance at the looks on their
faces made me back off the HotFoot a tad, otherwise I might have had a
mutiny on my hands.

We hit the same area that I'd worked on Day One. Slowly we worked
through,
pitching mostly plastics. For me, flukes were the lure of the day. Dink
after dink came into the boat, and I didn't draw an easy breath until the
first keeper was in the well. I thought it was tough fishing and knew
there
was going to be some people coming into the weigh-in without limits. But,
still in the back of my mind, I was wondering if somewhere on the lake,
there was a hot bite going on and we were missing it. But, I decided to
stay where we were, putting my faith in experience and gut reaction.

Slowly I picked up a fish here and a fish there, all on soft plastics.
One
pocket in the bullrushes looked fishy and I dropped a fluke in. The way
the
lure was taken made me think, "here's a good one." I reeled down on it
and
knew I was going to have to really put the hurt to it if I wanted to get
it
out. At the hookset, once again, the rod stopped and I continued to
pressure the fish. In a microsecond from the hookset, there was a POW
like
a rifle going off. It was my flippin stick coming apart about two feet
from
the tip! Luckily, the mongo hookset did pull the fish from that heavy
cover
and Michael was Johnny on the Spot with the net. At 5.03 pounds, it
helped
quite a bit.

Pat hammered a nice fish and it really put a bend in the rod. I was
excited
at the possibility of another big bass. When he got it closer to the
boat,
it turned out to be a big dogfish. Michael got into the toothy critter
act
as well, landing one that weighed in at 5.75 pounds. But shortly before
we
had to leave for weigh-in, I topped them with my own toothy critter.

I just couldn't help myself as a gator surfaced. I thought I could reach
it
with a cast and fired a fluke on my Pike Rod. The first cast missed and I
cranked in and tried again. This time, the cast was perfect, I didn't
really think that a gator would be interested in something as small as a
fluke, but he lunched it! I set the hook out of reflex and the fight was
on. Pat and Michael thought I was nuts and it was going to be over quick,
as the gator was in the six to seven foot class. They were amazed as I
started working the gator, bringing him to the boat. Even with the
Curado's
drag cranked down as tight as I could turn it, the gator still stripped
line
and I had to thumb the spool when pumping it to the boat. Three times I
had
the p.o.'d reptile to the boat before I realized that there was no getting
the lure back so I pointed the rod at him and broke the hook off. Dang
that
was fun.

The lake settled down for the return trip and we made good time cruising
open water. I was amazed at the size of the gators that roamed open
water.
We saw some good sized ones in the weeds but it seemed that the real
monsters were in the open. Why is that Moe?

Weigh in was tense for me. Talking to the others, there were some that
blanked, but there was a big deficit to overcome from the good bags
weighed
in the day before. Some nice fish were in bags, and I didn't think that
I'd
finish high in the standings, or that my 6 pounder would stand as Big
Fish.

In the end, as everyone knows, Dave won it all, and did it under tough
conditions, but I was pleased that my fish stood and that I came in third.

Saturday night, The Brahma Bull did a good job taking care of 19 hungry
fishermen, and Moe was great as Master of Ceremonies. Even now, I sit
back
and think, if I had to do it over again, solo drive and all, would I?

I'd do it in a heartbeat.

So, if there's anyone out there thinking, "I'm not into tournament
fishing,"
or "I'm not good enough," or some other reason, think again. It's not
just
winning a tournament, it's about the fishing, it's about the friendships,
it's about the good times, it's about fishing different lakes in different
parts of the country. It's about everything that's right about this
sport.

Sorry to be so long winded, but sometimes, the words just don't stop
coming
out. Thanks Moe, thanks Doc and Sue for taking the time to host the
Southern Classic. Believe me, I know what it's like and how much work is
involved, and I really appreciate it.
--
Steve @ OutdoorFrontiers
http://www.outdoorfrontiers.com
G & S Guide Service and Custom Rods
http://www.herefishyfishy.com

"Chris S" wrote in message
...
Nice mini novel !!

btw check your e-mail

Temporarily, all correspondance directed to me should be sent to

--
Steve @ OutdoorFrontiers
http://www.outdoorfrontiers.com
G & S Guide Service and Custom Rods
http://www.herefishyfishy.com