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Having lost my secretary in August to cancer, her replacement
keeps asking me how the old secretary did things. And I keep
having to shrug my shoulders and confess, "I
don't know." Frequently
admitting you "don't know" can be frustrating, even embarrassing!
But when it comes to bass
fishing - it's ironic
that it is the search to fill in what we "don't
know" that keeps
us coming back for more!
So for instance: since I catch nothing but "nice
sized smallies" in Lake Washington in the winter, where do
all the little
bass go? I don't know.
I suspect they go deeper than the 60 feet we fish, OR
they might suspend in the same depths but over deeper water
- but truth is; I don't
know! Why does trolling
my jointed minnow on a 3-way rig "knock em dead" one day,
but all
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they'll
hit 24 hours later is a solid wider-wobbling crank? I
don't know!
And let's face it, if every bass angler wrote
down all the questions
they had pondered while sitting in their boat, we'd need reams
of paper to record them all! When one contemplates the amount
of data MISSING
from our cerebral angling computers, it makes us wonder why
we even try! Every fishing contest that sends us home having
declared the FISH
were the "winners", leaves us questioning "Why couldn't I
figure out the pattern today?" And after sorting through two
dozen possible theories, the unsettling phrase that usually
rises to the top is "I
don't know!"
The way I figure it, fishing ought to be a "women's
only" sport. Why? Because
psychology has repeatedly
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