Imagine being an archaeologist standing in the middle of a vast desert where a great civilization once thrived.
All you see is sand and mountains, with no clue where to start.
Your guide knows the history down through the generations. He shows you where all of the main structures, highways and landmarks were. His descriptions bring it all to life, and when you finally start digging, one great discovery leads to another. All you needed was someone to show you.
That's what it was like fishing with Mark and Matt Hedrick at Lake Maumelle Thursday.
To the untrained eye, Lake Maumelle is a featureless plain of water ringed by mountains, but people lived in the Big Maumelle River Valley before the lake inundated the physical evidence of their community.
Old roads, bridges, ponds, building foundations and all kinds of other things are on the bottom. That's where the fish are.
As we idled around in Mark Hedrick's well-traveled Ranger, his big Lowrance graph showed humps and dips.
"That's the old Highway 10 roadbed," Hedrick said, pointing to a dramatic structure on the screen. "It runs across the lake to that point over there and comes back into the lake between those two pine trees."
Big fish were on top of the roadbed, but big schools of fish stacked along the sides. Above them were giant schools of baitfish.
"This is the part that's so foreign to so many people," Matt Hedrick said. "You talk to them about sitting in 40 feet and casting to 32 feet. They just scratch their heads and say, 'Whuuuut?'"
That's exactly how Matt Hedrick caught two bass exceeding 5 and 7 pounds earlier in the week. He lost another that he estimated to be close to 9 pounds. Hedrick knows people are skeptical about big fish stories, so he photographs the catch.
In another part of the lake is an old bridge that fish like to hang around, too.
I always knew that stuff was here. I just never knew where. It's here that you'll find everything Lake Maumelle has to offer: largemouth bass, Kentucky bass, white bass, catfish and giant bluegill.
Mark Hedrick was obsessed with those bluegill. We were waiting for white bass to chase shad on the surface, but that wouldn't start for another two hours. Black bass have been part of this equation lately, too, a bonus.
"These are big bass, too," Hedrick said. "I haven't seen big schools of blacks out here in 20 years."
During the early evening lull, Hedrick drove the boat to shallow places where he could catch bluegill. This was premeditated, obviously, judging by the big bucket of crickets.
Matt Hedrick, who is obsessed with bass, simmers.
"Want me to rig you up a bream rod, Matt?" Mark asks. The question contains the subtle lilt of a taunt.
"That's 'old man' fishing," Matt growls.
Matt is too impatient to sit around watching a cricket under a bobber and of course it's more exciting to catch big largemouths and schooling whites, Mark explains.
We don't catch many. One or two off this spot, one or two off that spot, but they are all giant bluegill, the kind that drape over the palm of your hand.
As the sun gets big on the horizon, we drift over a rocky flat.
"They used to quarry rock here, and there's big boulders all over the bottom," Mark said. "The big ones come up out the channel in the evenings to chase shad, and a lot of times they school with the whites."
The difference, he said, is that black bass push shad to the top and feed on the surface. White bass attack from the top and drive shad down where bigger whites lurk, kind of like a pincer maneuver.
We hear it before we see it. A thrashing, popping sound.
"There they are, way over there," Matt said, pointing to the south shore. It's a white-capped froth that looks out of rhythm with the wind chop.
Soon, a school surfaces within casting range. The Hedricks cast big Zara Spooks past the boils and walk their baits through the middle. Both catch big white bass.
Using a lighter rig, I cast a bone color Zara Puppy into a different school. A big fish engulfs it.
"That's a big largemouth," Mark said excitedly.
I raise my rod tip, reel the slack from the line and let the fish hook itself with line tension. It is a big, powerful fish. It breaks the line with one surge. That is the latest, costliest and probably last mishap I will ever experience with orange Gamma line.
Later, I throw a clear Zara Puppy with a different rig. That line snaps on the cast, and the lure sails. It is the latest and doubtless last mishap I will ever have with red Cajun line. Fortunately I recover the lure.
Finally, I settle on a silver Bomber spoon on one of my inshore saltwater spinning rigs. It has Berkley XT line, and I know it won't break. The white bass can't resist it coming through the top of a school.
When the sun finally slips under the horizon, the bite stops. We caught a lot of fish and had a lot of fun.
This is a good place to fish, and an afternoon with the Hedricks made me understand the lake a lot better. I can't wait to come back.
Sports on 07/12/2015