One Thing at a Time
Posted by Pete Robbins on Dec 23rd 2022

After 30 years of semi-serious bass fishing, the major lessons don’t come that often anymore. Nor do new techniques – every once in a while a capital-G-game-changer like the drop shot or the Senko or the Chatterbait comes along, but they’re relatively few and far between. Nevertheless, when I look back at my 2022 bass fishing the thing I’ll remember most is a day in late November. It was a day where I only caught one fish, and not a very impressive one at that, but it was nevertheless the culmination of 30 years of big talk and little action.
Ever since I first stepped in a bass boat I’ve been told that if you want to learn to do something, you have to commit to it.
“Need to learn to pitch a jig? Go out in your boat with nothing but jigs and the appropriate tackle.”
“Want to learn to use side-imaging? Leave the rods at home and get a comfortable cushion for your butt.”
It makes total sense, but have you ever tried to do it? Driving around for 8 hours, on the big motor or the electric, trying to figure out what you’re learning – or if you’re learning anything at all.
But I committed to doing it with a glide bait (actually, a collection of glide baits) in November. I locked the rod locker and put the big sticks on the deck. I caught one bass, had some follows, and learned to manipulate the lures a little bit better. Not a great day by conventional standards, but the first time I’d ever been able to do it. Usually, I capitulate after a few hours. I give up. Or I don’t even start. It would have been easy on that same day to catch a limit on a Senko, a Ned Rig, or even a spinnerbait. I’m sure of it. But I resisted that temptation for the greater long-term good. That was made easier by the fact that I’d gone out the day before and whacked a pile of bass on more conventional (to me, at least) lure choices. I got the “git bit bug” out of my system.

The great thing is that now that I’ve done it, I know that I can replicate the process – working on Livescope all day or just spinning rods, or more likely some more days of chunking big baits. The world’s not going to end if I don’t catch any fish. I’m not going to sacrifice whatever little street cred (water cred?) that I already have. The only one who might be disappointed with me, and as long as it’s part of the plan I don’t see that happening. Sure, none of us have as many days on the water as we’d like, and it seems painful to give one up in search of a reward that may never come. Rather than seeing it as a waste of time, or a Hail Mary, however, done right it's an investment in your long-term success and your mental health.