[Bruce Litton]

For hours the fishing was slow--two trout, a pickerel, a perch--trolling. I was about to hang it up and fish nightcrawlers. I made another approach to a favorite spot, nailed a five-pound hybrid, and that's when it all began for us. Mike got one, and that gave me a lot of relief; I got another almost four, and this is what really hurt until I caught that second: a much bigger bass tore off on a streaking run. If you've hooked big hybrids, you know that uncanny convulsive power they have, like bursts of electrical energy. The situation proved I had set the drag just a LITTLE too tight, and the bass snapped my 12-pound test fluoro leader just like the action of an iron wrist, snapped it not at the knot, thank God, but I kicked myself anyway. Lost another five-pounder, threw hook at boat, had another pull off on a run, and missed a few hits, so we enjoyed action.

Water 56 degrees at start, 59 when left.