Spawning season is of the utmost importance to the future generations of bass and fishermen alike.  Next years spawn will be a major factor in the success rate of Anglers for years to come as well as determining the population of Bass, not to mention the population of all the fish on the Bass food chain.  One bass less and there will be hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of bass less for the next few years.  One bass more and the population will skyrocket and so will your yearly catch.  Keep this in mind when you decide which Bass to keep and which Bass to release right now, as we are right in the middle of spawning season!  Yes, you will catch a lot more Largemouth’s right now, but if it isn’t a mounter, let it go.  Preserve the sport for next year.

     Okay, with the “catch and release” lecture out of the way, lets dive into the good stuff.    How do we know it’s spawning season?  Are the Bass hanging out in the clubs wearing the latest Armani suits and sporting come hither expressions?  Not unless you’ve had one too many Margaritas at the aforementioned club. 

     There are two main environmental factors that automatically shift Bass into spawning mode.  One is photo period, aka length of daylight, but the main factor is water temperature.  When the water hits 60 degrees the Bass get antsy.  They can sense that old urge coming on.  If the aquatic temps stay steady around 60, the urge will pass fairly quickly.  But, if the water temps slowly and steadily rise the bass will begin the spawning ritual.  Once the water temperature reaches 80 degree the fish will switch back out of spawning mode.  There is quite a bit of speculation and theory about the phases of the moon playing a role, but there has been no steady proof of this either way.

     Once the Bass are in spawn mode, they will swim into the shadows looking for the best places to spawn.  Quite often the bigger fish will fight over choice spots.  Larger Bass will always end up with the best spots.  Regardless of size, the bass is very aggressive during this time and will sometimes hit a lure, not out of hunger, but out of a sense of protection for his grounds.    The male bass will find his ideal spot and put his mouth against the bottom center.  He will then begin sweeping the silt off the ground with his tail, his body turning full circle many times to make a perfect crater.  Generally this will be in between two and four feet of water, but in clearer water it can be deeper. 

     After the area is ready, the female bass will move in from the depths into the shallows.  The male will then swim to her and, using his head as a guide, direct her forcibly towards the nest.  Once there, the party begins and ends with the female laying eggs and the male fertilizing them.  Ahh, the romance.  Makes my heart feel all warm and cozy inside.  Anyway, the honeymoon ends within a half an hour and the female leaves the nest and finds another male and it starts all over.  Kind of like a Hollywood love affair, isn’t it? 

     So the female leaves the male in the nest.  He begins to wave his tale over the eggs to oxygenate them.  He will stay with the eggs for two or three days until they hatch.  After that, the male swims away, his job done for another year.  The survival rate of the young depends upon many factors, such as other fish feeding on them, food supply and even a sudden drop in water temperature.  This will send the young into shock and, inevitably, kill most of them. 

     You are now armed with every bit of knowledge you need to slay the big Lunkers.  But still, we are going to tip or two your way, starting with baits.  Remember that the bass are mean and angry in the spawning season.  Nothing will make a fellow meaner than someone interfering his best pick up line.  Sometimes during the spawning period it isn’t so much what you use but how you use it.  Top water works good, but much better if it’s top water that makes a lot of noise.  If you are going to go mid ways or bottom, make sure it is something big enough to get the Lunker’s attention.  Your goal is to make them mad.  Scaring them off during the spawn time of year is something really hard to do.  Bring out those big baits with noise, such as spinners, top water poppers and rattle traps.  And one last tip.  Take me with you. 

     With fall coming on, it is the day of the Crappie fisherman here in Kentucky. One cannot help but be breathless with exhiliration as he or she steps out to see the sun rising over the yellow and orange leaves that embrace the Kentucky countryside. Another beautiful day, another fish to be caught.

My cousin and I decided, this past weekend, that we were going to take our first fall fishing trip together. He lives in Louisville, about a two hour drive from my home in Muhlenberg County, so we only take about four trips a year together. Our first is known as our stupid trip. This one is around January when the countryside is covered with snow and ice. It is a trip of impatience, as we have been cooped up all winter long. The only thing we catch is the flu, but it’s fun anyway. Our second trip is the spring trip where we usually haul in our load of striped bass. It’s one of my personal favorites. The one we went on this past weekend was our third trip, the Crappie Run, we have named it. The fourth one is our other stupid trip, and it won’t roll around until late November when the world is frozen again.

 Nevertheless, our Crappie Run this year turned out to be an interesting one. It seems that the fish have become confused. My first minnow on the hook produced a bluegill. Nothing too unusual there. They aren’t real bright fish and would eat their own tail if they could get it in front of them. The second was a catfish, as was the third, fourth, and fifth.

I look to my cousin and I ask him, “where are the Crappie?”

“I have one biting now. Just a second and I’ll show you,” was his reply. So I waited.

Now, one thing that you must understand about my cousin, Scott, is that he is an extremist. If the speed limit is 55, you can bet he will be roaring down the highway at 70 mph. If he is going out to have a drink or two with his buddies, expect a call from the bar saying that you need to pick him up because he is passed out on the floor. Scott always goes one notch over the line. The same holds true with his fishing.

I watch as his bobber takes off suddenly. As expected, Scott jerks with all his strength, sending a bobber and a hook towards me at somewhere around the speed of light. I manage to avoid it, as I have much practice doing so. I then pick up his hook to find a pair of fish lips hanging off it.

So, if you are ever fishing in Kentucky and catch a Crappie with no lips, you know what happened!