What You Can Learn From This Dingleberry Bass

This small, freshwater fish, that no one wants, taught me a powerful lesson about inshore fishing. I’d love to share it with you!

What is the greatest satisfaction in fishing?

Catching speckled trout and redfish does different things for all of us:

• cooking a delicious catch
• spending time with family and friends
• enjoying some peace and quiet
• admiring Nature’s beauty
• blowing off steam, etc.

I love all those things!

But if I had to choose one, it’d be finding fish on my own, especially in new areas and with new techniques.

Tell me you didn’t feel like a rock star!

Like you walked out on stage in front of 10,000 screaming fans to rock their faces with gnarly guitar solos and exploding pyrotechnics.

See what I mean? It’s like a drug.

And that drug is what a lot of us pursue on our fishing trips.

It Was A Journey

See, at first I thought it was all about showing off limits of fish at Breton Sound Marina‘s cleaning tables, all while soaking up the admiration of other anglers.

I eventually discovered the best fishing trips were the ones I tried something new, whether it was using a new lure or trying a new technique.

Well, that’s exactly what happened on a fishing trip last month, not to brackish waters in Louisiana, but a freshwater lake in Texas.

A Special Fishing Trip

I was visiting family, and since they live near famed Lake Conroe I thought it’d be crazy not to bring my boat and have fun trying new techniques for a fish we rarely target: largemouth bass.

One of those techniques was skipping docks with a weightless Senko (which is like a stubby worm, in case you’re not familiar).

Well, I’ll tell you that it was tedious and extremely slow-paced.

First, you must “skip” the lure under the dock without getting tangled on anything, like this:

And then you let the lure fall.

And wait.

Then wait some more.

No twitching, no jiggling, no working the lure at all.

Just let it sit.

It was so painstakingly slow!

Then BAM! Pay dirt!

A little, dingleberry bass hit like a freight train, which surprised me because I wasn’t sure if fish even swam around those docks.

The surprise melted to elation: I had just succeeded doing something I had not done before.

I picked up a new skill set, a fresh understanding of fish behavior and learned two important lessons.