A thick carpet of mottled green moss and algae seals the surface of the water at the back of the creek. The 30-yard-wide area sports a max depth of four feet, but the deepest spots were hidden beneath the blanket of vegetation. Further upstream, natural springs pump cool water into the creek, which, when intermixed with the warmer lake water, presumably boosts the growth of the green barrier which floats in front of me. I get a quick whiff of the musky, mildewy odor of the moss before it moves along with a very slight breeze from the west. Amidst the muck, turtles poke up their heads, painted in bright reds and yellows and randomly speckled with neon-green polka dots. Massive-sounding bullfrogs croak loudly from dark, hidden places within the tall, overhanging grass at the water’s edge. Birds call from the canopy above and two blue-jays screech harsh alarm cries to their feathered friends as my kayak slowly slides into the scene.
Regardless of age, experience or personality, all fisherman giggle and grin when their topwater fly or lure is crushed from below. It may elicit a whoop or two, most often from a co-angler, but it’s pure adrenaline and easily the best cure for whatever ails ya. You’ll forget how seasick, how hungover or how aggrieved of allergies you are when your scum frog disappears instantly in a swirl of black water and lily pads.
|Rock bass (left) and cicada fly (right)|
|Scummy, yummy water.|
There's nothing wrong with streamers, crank baits, spinnerbaits and even live presentations ... but man, in my eyes, topwater is the most fun way to fish.