TOPWATER ACTION AT LAKE OF THE OZARKS

Bill Cooper


The loud commotion and splashing water of a largemouth bass striking a topwater lure is one of the most exciting events in the outdoor world. Millions of dollars and more man hours are spent by anxious anglers every year in the United States in pursuit of that glorious moment.
As water temperatures heat up and the metabolism of largemouths climb, the fish become much more active and aggressive in their daily pursuit o food. POND BOSS owner Bob Lusk once told me, “in the summertime, when they are most active, largemouth bass will eat anything that will fit into their mouth.”
I was convinced while accompanying Lusk on a pond shocking trip in south Texas. He retrieved a 3-pound bass which had succumbed to the shocking boat. Lusk took a pair of pliers and pulled a 3-foot long water snake from the throat of that average size bass. That bass gave a new meaning to aggressive.
I have experienced the blow-ups of hundreds of bass on topwater lures in my life time, but the thrill is still as keen as ever. I fished the dark swamps of southeast Missouri in my youth, many times in the dark with the company of cottonmouths and hordes of mosquitoes. Setting the hook became a matter of quick reaction time when you heard the explosion of water erupting somewhere out there in the pitch black of midnight. The suspense of what you might be reeling in discouraged the weak of heart from accompanying me on those forays.
Swamps are few in the Ozarks. My largemouth bass adventures are restricted to the relative safety of farm ponds and lakes here. One of my favorite summertime bass haunts is the massive Lake of the Ozarks. I almost always fish it at night during the summer because of the heavy day time boat traffic. The daylight traffic often keeps bass at bay. However, by night fall, the water sport fans are gone and the fish are prowling the shallows in search of an easy meal.
I recently made a trip to LOZ, along with my stepson, Benton Stevenson and his friend Josh. We arrived a bit late in the morning and fishing for largemouth proved tough. We turned to big bull bluegill and catfish for entertainment. I told the boys that we would be rising very early the next morning to capitalize on the topwater bite.
The campground at McCubbin’s Point appeared near capacity. Rather than turn in early, my two teenage companions chose to scout the campground for those beings of the opposite sex, which seemed to be plentiful. Noisy young campers kept me awake until after midnight. I heard the boys sneak into the tent about 1 A.M.
Five A.M. came early. My attempts to arouse the two raiders of the night met with complete failure. I could not remember the last time I enjoyed the opportunity to fish the topwater action by myself. I left the two carcasses in the tent.
I was the first out on the lake. The surface appeared slick and calm. The only sound I could hear came from a boisterous wild turkey gobbler on a high ridge across the lake. All soothed my soul.
I slowed the boat after crossing the first bay I had no sooner dropped the trolling motor until I made my first cast of the morning to a fallen tree on the tip of a point. The 6-inch Zara Spook plopped down right where I intended. The instant explosion of water caught me by surprise – again. I know to expect that, but on first trips of the year, I am always behind the lightning speed of a hungry bass. I missed the hookset. I tried again, but the bass wasn’t falling for that trick again.
Just a few feet down the bank, another, although smaller bass, attacked the lure again. The bite was on!
I missed a half dozen strikes before I realized that I needed to change my approach. I reached for my second rod which I had rigged with a chartreuse colored buzzbait equipped with a trailer hook. The extra hook serves to catch a lot of short strikers. Three casts later, I slid a chunky 13-incher to the boat and released it. Strikes came every few casts, but hook ups were tough.
I exchanged my second rod for my third. At the business end of its line dangled a Bass Pro Shops XPS 4-inch Slim Dog in Tennessee Shad color. I flipped the versatile plug to a blowdown crowding a big rock. Five feet into my “walk-the-dog” retrieve the water boiled again. My rod arched and a 15-inch beauty tail-walked across the slick surface. The needle sharp hooks held and I hoisted the sleek fish into the boat.
Less than a dozen cast later, the water splashed from the efforts of a feeding bass to inhale as many of a school of shad as possible. It looked to be a stretch, but I heaved the lure as hard as I could. It plinked down right in the middle of the concentric circles spreading from the eruption. Bullseye!
I let the lure sit motionless for ten seconds – an eternity – and popped it once. The rucus startled me –again. Almost stumbling in the boat, I recovered and leaned back hard on the rod. The sting of the hooks sent that feisty bass towards the next county. The arch in my rod equaled my concern for my line. I silently hoped it would hold.
After three aerial attempts to shake the bait from the corner of its mouth, the 18-inch bass slid to hand and I forced a thumb inside its maw. I enjoyed a bass fisherman’s heaven while the two boys slept the dawn away.
The bite began to slow as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon. But, the action wasn’t over by any means. Shad busted the surface in every direction. I flung my bait towards the closest school. The water erupted once again. My hookset had become smoother. I was in the groove, or so I thought. That four-pound beauty vaulted out of the water slinging its head like a Rat Terrier shaking its namesake. My lure darn near landed in the boat.
Whispering insults to myself, I flung the lure in the same direction again, out of desperation. Desperation sometimes pays. The water churned again. Bam, bam, I slugged the rod backwards twice to drive the hooks deep into the tough jaw of an even bigger fish. I knew this bass would break me off. I felt it. Instead the fish vaulted skyward, landing on its back with a plop. Then it ran hard towards the boat, as if intending to ram it. Shortstopping, it ran back the way it had come, gaining a bit of slack in the line. Bad deal. It leaped skyward, falling backward on the limp line before I could reel up the slack. Unbelievably, the lure plopped backwards into the water, without the biggest bass of the day attached. It’s a curse. The biggest fish always gets away!
If you are not familiar with Lake of the Ozarks bass fishing, go to http://www.funlake.com/ or call 800 FUN-LAKE and inquire about hiring a guide. It is well worth the money.