March 01, 2021
Rumor was that a little lake way up north had brahma-bull bluegills. So we packed up one of the old In-Fisherman trucks, saddled up, and rode in that direction.
Snow cover was light on the little lake. I walked out and drilled some holes. Over two feet of ice—enough to drive the truck out there. About 120 holes later—no bluegills. We searched the deep weededges, the middepth flats, the lip and base of the breaks leading into the basins. All we found was little bait-stealing perch.
As Sherlock Holmes said, “Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” That would be dead center in the deep basin, so that’s where we went, with little...
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