In 1932, Georgia farmer George Perry caught a 22-pound, 4-ounce largemouth bass out of nearby Lake Montgomery, establishing the Holy Grail of American fishing records.
He weighed his bass at a post office on the way home, then fed his family with it for the next two days. At the time there wasn’t a lot of fuss paid toward things like record bass. Fish were food.
The record has long seemed unobtainable, though for a time about 30 years ago, it appeared likely Perry’s record would fall to a fish caught in one of the deep-water reservoirs that water Los Angeles.
Those lakes had an advantage over the typical bass fishery. They were stocked with trout in winter, and it turns out a 12-inch rainbow is a fine meal for a 20-pound largemouth looking to bulk up.
Those California lakes haven’t yet produced a record breaker, but in 2009 a Japanese lake did, when Manabu Kurita bagged a 22-5 largemouth using live bluegill for bait. Though it topped Perry’s fish by an ounce, International Game Fish Association rules require a new record to break the old mark by two ounces, otherwise it goes in the book as a tie.
Montana isn’t exactly a bass hotspot, though both largemouth and smallmouth are scattered across the state. Treasure State waters are too cold to produce a fish to threaten Perry’s Holy Grail, but Montana bass have a dedicated following.
Montana’s largemouth bass state record fell in April in an unlikely place: Lake Elmo in Billings. If you’ve never been to Elmo, it’s up in the Heights, right off the highway on the way to Roundup.
We don’t normally associate urban waters with the sort of remote haunt where lunkers loom. Elmo doesn’t look like much at all, unless you’re a kayaker or someone looking for a soak on a typical, brutally hot summer day in Billings. Then it’s a dream.
None of that mattered to Brandon Wright, who was drowning a worm at Lake Elmo in April when he hooked a 9.575-pound largemouth. It topped the old record by nearly a pound.
All this was on my mind as I stalked the shore of Lake Elmo last week. Elmo looks even less like a trophy fish producer these days. Biologists discovered Asian clams there, an invasive species, so the water level was lowered to expose shallows where the clams mostly live.
That’s just the first step. In the fall, the lake will be drained and left dry through the winter. The clams aren’t expected to survive the cold. Neither are the bass.
For now there are still fish to be caught, though I haven’t bumped any record fish. I went out last week with my fly rod, just because I wanted to cast a few loops. There were fish working the surface, but none in casting range.
I returned the next evening with a rig more suitable for searching an unfamiliar water: a drop-shot plastic worm. It drew a little attention, and then I caught a chubby prespawn female, in typical fashion for a bass-pro-tour reject such as myself. While I worked my bait toward shore, a mama mallard leading a troop of yellow fuzz balls wandered close enough to draw Doll’s attention.
I reached down to hold her collar until mama and brood had moved safely offshore. When I turned back to my bait, I noticed it was swimming away.
I set the hook and she took off, making a couple of drag straining runs and furious leaps.
I eased her to shore, let Doll get a good sniff, then eased her back into the lake.
She’ll be dead by September regardless, but I don’t have a family back home that needs feeding for a couple days.
Rob Breeding writes and blogs at www.mthookandbullet.com.