As the author/photographer of Bassmaster’s iconic (I love that word!) “Day on the Lake” series, I’ve documented over 100 of the planet’s best B.A.S.S. pros as they’ve tried to locate and catch bass on remote lakes they’ve never set eyes on before. For some pros, the stars aligned perfectly on the day of their outing, making for exciting copy and eye-popping lunker photos. In a recent DOTL installment, for example, Tennessee pro Brandon Coulter’s five best bass weighed a hefty 24 pounds, 11 ounces, and his limit was anchored by a photogenic 7-11 largemouth that plastered his topwater plug at boatside!
But for a few unlucky pros, their Day on the Lake outing turned into a humiliating seven-hour exercise in futility. Sometimes the weather was to blame, and the hapless pro fell victim to a massive cold front or a frog-strangler rain that turned the lake into a mudhole. Then again, there were days when conditions seemed perfect, yet the bass still refused to bite. It was sad seeing these unfortunate pros dig frantically through their tackle stashes in a fruitless quest for some magic lure that might miraculously turn the tide in their favor … and prevent their Day on the Lake weight total from making them the laughingstock of their pro angler peers!
It recently occurred to me that you, too, have no doubt experienced both great and suck-worthy days on your home lake. Unbeknownst to you, Bassmaster’s satellite spy camera recently recorded your last fishing trip! Here’s what happened on your Day on the Lake!
4:45 a.m.
4:48 a.m. You crawl out of bed, trip over the cat and stumble into the bathroom. It’s time to head to the lake!
4:53 a.m. Lacking a professional tournament jersey emblazoned with sponsor logos, you don a ratty sweatshirt and a pair of jeans pockmarked with battery acid holes.
5 a.m. You hook up your battered 1978 aluminum boat to your rust-eaten 1991 pickup and head for the lake.
5:07 a.m. Alarmed by a loud clattering sound, you pull off to the side of the road to discover that the boat battery charger you forgot to unplug has been dragging on the highway for the last 10 miles.
5:13 a.m. You arrive at the Truck-O-Rama for a breakfast stop.
5:30 a.m. Three trips to the breakfast buffet later, you’re back on the road. Your stomach begins making loud growling noises, and soon you’re emitting more gas than an Oklahoma fracking facility!
5:42 a.m.
5:55 a.m. Nearly overcome by toxic fumes, you stagger back to your boat and remove your arsenal of three dinged-up rods with rusty guides from the moldy rod box.
6:04 a.m. Stomach still reeling, you launch your boat, beach it and park your truck.
6:08 a.m. Eager to begin your quest for bass, you shove off, crank your trusty 65-horsepower outboard and head out across the lake in a cloud of greasy black smoke.
6:11 a.m. The water pooling up around your sneakers alerts you to the fact that you forgot to insert the drain plug in the boat! You suddenly remember that it’s hanging from your truck’s rear-view mirror as a reminder to insert it before launching.
6:40 a.m. After hurrying back to the ramp, loading your boat back on its trailer and waiting impatiently while 250 gallons of lake water drains out, you insert the plug, re-launch and again head out across the lake, your junkyard outboard coughing and sputtering in protest.
6:57 a.m. You arrive at a shallow flat, check the water temperature by sticking your finger in the lake, and make your first casts of the day with a white spinnerbait you found in the bargain bin at Sweaty’s Bait Shop.
7:18 a.m. You switch to a 1/2-ounce lipless crankbait with rusty hooks and a peeling chrome paint job.
7:21 a.m. You bag your first bass of the day on the lipless crank, a largemouth barely bigger than the lure. Was the fish trying to eat the bait or mate with it?
7:26 a.m. Coffee break! You reach under the console for your lucky java mug, shake a dead cricket from it, and pour yourself a steaming cup of joe from your official Jimmy Houston thermos. While gazing across the placid lake, your thoughts wander back to Saint-Tropez, Sofia Vergara and that bottle of suntan lotion.
7:30 a.m. Your reverie is interrupted by the cottonmouth moccasin slithering across the surface toward your boat! You cast a noisy buzzbait at the repugnant reptile in an effort to scare it off.
7:31 a.m. Unfortunately, the vicious viper attacks the buzzer and gets stuck by the trailer hook! After considerable hissing and thrashing, it finally shakes free and swims off, looking mad enough to give you the finger if it had any hands.
7:35 a.m. Wishing to avoid further snake encounters, you vacate the flat and head uplake to a long point, where you again retrieve the buzzbait.
7:36 a.m. A huge bass makes a toilet-flush swirl and sucks in the buzzer! But instead of waiting that crucial second before setting the hook like it said to do in a Bassmaster article, you immediately jerk back with your rod and miss the fish!
7:37 a.m.
8:37 a.m.
8:45 a.m. You move to the opposite shoreline to check out some standing timber. This looks like the perfect place to try your new $289 Japanese swimbait, so you replace the buzzbait with the exotic, foot-long lure, take aim, swing back your rod and POP! Your line snaps, sending the prized plug into orbit!
8:49 a.m. The high-dollar swimbait has lodged in the top of a 50-foot-tall tree, and you want it back! So, you tie the boat to the tree and begin the grueling climb upward toward its summit.
9:16 a.m. Eventually you make it to the top of the tree, only to discover that your swimbait has landed in an osprey nest! Being careful not to disturb the three big eggs cradled therein, you grab the lure and begin shimmying back down the tree.
9:18 a.m.
9:25 a.m. Battered and bleeding, you frantically scramble back into your boat, gun the motor and hightail it back to the ramp!
9:52 a.m. You race to the hospital emergency room, where you receive 26 stitches, a tetanus shot and a warning from the doctor to not mess with any more large birds of prey.
12:13 p.m. Discouraged, exhausted and wracked with pain, you finally arrive back home. While you’re unhooking your boat, your wife returns from shopping and is horrified to see your bandages and stitches! Her sympathy is short-lived, however, once she spies the wet bikini top in your boat!
12:14 p.m. You attempt to explain how the bikini top ended up in your bass rig, but it’s hard to talk while your wife is pummeling you upside the head with the frying pan she bought at Bed Bath & Beyond!
12:15 p.m. That third whack on the head causes you to lose consciousness. You end your Day on the Lake with zero bass and two trips to the ER.
THE DAY IN PERSPECTIVE
“Considering how awesome things were going in my dream with Sofia Vergara and how everything spiraled downhill after I woke up, I wish I’d never even set my alarm clock!” you tell Bassmaster from your hospital bed. “My stomach cramps, missing drain plug, lost lure search and encounters with the osprey seriously cut into my fishing time and negatively impacted my mental focus. And speaking of mental focus, I’m still not thinking too clearly on account of all the pain meds I’m taking for my facial lacerations and the concussion my wife gave me, but once I get my head straight, I’m gonna scour the internet for another Japanese swimbait. I’m pretty sure that would have been the deal!”