Now, this goes back 'round 25 'er so years but there was a lake outside Springfield, Va. that I used to fish as a kid and well, I had always had good luck at this one spot an' have been braggin' on it to my couzin Rufus fir years... One Saturday night when we was both 'bout half sober, okay my be not half sober, up behind the Sweet Springs Store on Rt. 9, I was tellin' folks about this lake an', well, you know how things get with lass than hald sober fellers drinkin' behind a general styore on a Saturday night... Yeah, next thing ya know we had some kinda wildass bet goin' and plans to go fishin' at the lake the next mornin'...

So, 'bout 5:00 Sunday mornin', Rufus pulled up in his wife, Retha May's, ol' Pinto station wagon with his gear, coolers, comic books, etc and I packed my gear, coller and comic books in with his and we were off for a day of looafin', drenkin', liein' 'n fishin'... Man, if it gets better than that just stop me now, 'er shoot me, 'r both...

Now let me tell ya 'bout where we were goin' that day... Lake Akitinque, believe it or not is only 'bout 20 miles south of Washington, D.C. but, hey, it a big danged lake and has forest and plowed fields 'round it so you think yer like some place in Montana 'n it has a small boat and tackle shop where you can rent rowboats with 'r without motors and a sandy beach next to the boat house where kids play in the watre and make castles, catch craw fish and aggivate their moms by holdin' thier breeath and stayin' under the water too long...

So we show up at the boat house 'bout 7:40 'er 7:50, I don't know... Might have been as late as 7:45 'cause the display on Retha May's old casette palyer din't work so, hey I'm guessin' here... While I go into the boat house to rent the boat, Rufus got out all our gear, collers and comic books so we'd be ready fir a full day of fishin'...

Well, less than a half hour later I was right at that fishin' hole that I remembered as a kid... Yeah, a few things had changed but it wa sho nuff "the hole"... 'Bout the time I shut off the 5 horsepower Evinrude, Rufus reached for one of them styrofoam cups filled with worms that he'd dug the night before...

"Hey, Rufe", I said, "I weren't liein' to ya, buddy... Now you just watch what Cousin Bobert does..."

Well, folks, ya' know them yellow twisty ties that ya' get with a laof of Wonder bread... I think they are Tuesday twisty ties but, hey, it's been 25 'er 30, so it might be Wednesday's bread... One thing fir sure it ain't Friday's 'cause they are blue...

So I reached in my lunch pail and had me a couple yellow Wonder Bread twisty ties and twisted one 'round a #10 hook and precced to cast that yeller twsisty tie out on the #10 hook using 12 pound catgut line an'....

Bang!!! Before that twisty tie on that #10 hook even hit the water a 4 pound samll mouth jumped outta the water n' swallered it half way down to his tail... Okay, mayube not half way but lets just settle on a quarter way fir now...

Rufus looks at me with his jaw restin' on the floor of the rental boat... Now, Rufus ain't one fir silence... No, sir 'er mame, he ain't... Might of fact the boy has an opinion, unlike yers truely, on every subject there is... But he couldn't bring himself to say anything... Especially since we had a 6 pack of Iron City ridin' on the bet we'd made the night before...

So I cast the teisty tie and the #10 yeat again and...

You guessed it... Bang...

This time it was a 4 1/2 pound small mouth...

Well, 'bout now poor ol' Rufus had given up winnin' the Iron City and just wanted to catch some fish so I opened up my lunch pail and retrieved the other yeller twisty tie off my seconf cream cheesa and dill pickle sammich and I passed it over to him but warned him that he might wanta use a stronger test line 'cuase when things get jumping the fish get bigger and bigger...

So he cast out a few times an' brought in several nice samllmouth and a couple large mouths to go with 'um whil I catchin' 'um 'bout as fast as I could take the last on off the hook and cast out again... This went on fir 'bout an hour and we'd done filled both stringers with bass and was now just throwin' in the bottom of the boat, which neither of us noticed was gettin' gettin' lower and lower in the water until a little water come over the side into the boat...

So I say to Rufus, "Hey, we gonna have to throw an couple of these back and head back 'cause I think we got us a Pinto staion Wagon full now..." and so we throwed 'bout 40 or 60 fish back which left us two stringers and a baot filled half way up the sides with yummy bass...

Now, I just don't now what got into Rufus that day but he had to catch the last fish... Maybe it was loosin' the bet and the 6 pack of Iron City beer... Fir the life o' me, I don't have a clue but he cast that yeller twisty tie on that #10 hook out just one more time and...

Bang!!! A picture perfect 7 pound large mouth grabbed it anf jumped out of the ater with it in its mouth when...

BANG!!! A monster Mud Tom come outta that water like a rocket and swallered that 7 pound picture perfect bass half way to his tail... Okay, maybe not half way but far nuff to make the rest of the story interestin'...

From the looks of that Tom he musta been, oh, 'round 8 'er 14 feet long and prolly 'bout 6 or 9 hunner pounds of meaness and he took off with that 7 pound piccure perfect latrge mouth and poor ol' Rufus in the back end, stern to folks like Kendall, of the boat holdin' on fir dear life and hold on he did that day... Now fir a 150 toothless hillbilly I'z here to say that Rufus had a "death grip" on that rod as the boat was being pulled faster and faster, stern first, back toward the boat house... At one point, we was movin' so fast that the keel of the boat was actin' like dam and sendin' up a water spout so high that I'm sure that everyone within 20 miles got theitr grass watered fir free that day... I swear they did...

So her we were skippin' accross Lake Akitinque in a rental boat stern first, with two stringers of bass, half a boat of more bass, our coolers, some now very soggy comic books, a half eaten cream cheeze and pickle sammich and I can now see that all the moms at the beach are sceamin' at their kids to get out of the water and run for it...

What happened next is something that I'll never unnersthand if I live to be 60 'er '64 but that ol' mudTom comea shore 'bout 60 'er more miles per hour with me, Rufe, the bass, the rental boat in tow, wnet up the beach, crossed the boathouse road and plowed himself some 213 feet into the corn field acrross the boat house road meanin' that accordin' to the Wes Ginny Slide Rule we was 'bout 190 'er so feet back to Retha May's Pinto station wagon which was parked back at the boat house...

Well, took 'bout 14 'er 16 trips back to load up all them fish and gear and comic books in the Pinto all the while that ol' mudTom was snortin' and acrryin' on back in that corn field... Might of fact, as we were leaving with the ol' Pinto's rear draggin the ground you could still hear Mr. Meaness hisself snortin' and carryin' on back in that corn field...

But there's always a moral in a story and I'm still to this very day trying to figurate what that moral is but until then fir anyone doubti' this story, I did have the wisdom, before leavin' to take a piccure of that Mr. Mean 'ol Tom and will be more than happy to mail any doubters a copy of the picure for the cost of shippin' which ain't all that cheap... Ya see, that tom as so big that...

...even the piccures of him weigh in at 'bout 5 pounds...

No brag, jus' fact...

Bobert