The Legend of Rex

To the "purist" flyfisherman, largemouth bass are a far cry from native trout.  David James Duncan, in The River Why, writes the following subtle characterization:

Although admired in the deep south, where the fetid, yellow-brown lukewarm waters make it impossible for the noble salmonoids to eke out an existence, the largemouth bass is an outlander, a devouring pestilence, a freakish invader to the salubrious waters of the North and Northwest.  Of indelicate appetite, sluggish disposition, negligible intelligence, paltry stamina, and possessing a head, mouth and stomach of ludicrous bulk in comparison with its stultified body, the largemouth bass is easily America's most overrated, overstocked fish.  If it possesses any exceptional quality whatsoever, it is its suicidal viciousness: these demented creatures have been known to attack alligators, outboard-motor propellors, and even small yachts; they frequently inhale live ducks, muskrats, water moccasins and swimming house pets, only to die of the effects.  Largemouth bass have even attacked children, some of whom have been terribly mu-- 

You get the idea.

Although ordinary largemouths aren't known for their intelligence, the true giants do grow wise.  You can't grow to be king of the lake without a few tricks.

Later in his novel, Duncan recalls an encounter with one such infamous creature: Garbage Gut.  Legend has it that that Garbage Gut grew enormous on the scraps of weekend picnickers.  To trick the beast, angler Gus Orviston dressed in his Sunday best, sat down to eat lunch at a picnic table bordering the pond, and began throwing scraps over his back into the water.  Sure enough, 'Ol Gut began to feed.  The fish would spook at the sight of a rod, so Gus fished a hotdog from the trash and hooked it to a hand line.  When he finally landed the record fish, its belly contained a candy bar, two cigarette butts, two minnows and a carrot.

Now the legend of Rex.

Rex is a largemouth bass in Paradox Lake, in the Adirondack Park.  Like Garbage Gut, Rex has learned to improvise on nature's idea of healthy eating habits.  Specifically, Rex hides under a dock where children learn to fish by throwing worms to bluegill.  Imagine the look on a child's face as they happily reel in their beloved bluegill, just to witness a massive, dark form launch itself from under the dock, devour their fish whole, snap their line, and disappear before the kid can speak.

Jake E. and I have tried all manner of lures, flies, plugs, jigs, doodads, wiggles and dills to catch Rex.  No luck.  This fish wanted one thing: live bluegill.  So we developed a plan.

Using my fly rod, I would snag a bluegill.  We'd then transfer the bluegill to a hook on Jake's stronger spin rod, and let the bait swim around the dock.  Catching bluegill on a flyrod was easy...reeling them in before Rex ate them was hard.  I lost three before finally handing Jake E. the bait.

Having hooked the bluegill to his line, Jake let the fish swim.

Jake fishing with his bluegill...I was scared to watch

Sure enough, the water exploded like someone had tossed a grenade.  Jake waited a moment to make sure Rex has eaten the bait completely before setting the hook.  Angered, Rex made a run for the safety of the dock, surely hoping to wrap Jake's line around the anchor ropes.  Jake's rod bent to its limit, bowed low over the side of the dock.

As quickly as it began, it was over.  Jake E. landed the legend.  We'd caught Rex.

 The Legend: Rex

 Rehabbing the Monster