My Lucky Craft Sammy topwater landed less than its length from the base of a cypress tree. I mindlessly snapped it back and forth a couple times to impart that lazy walk-the-dog action that big bass just can’t seem to ignore.
At 7:30 in the morning, my shirt was already soaked with sweat, so I diverted my attention away from my Sammy sitting lifelessly on the surface in an effort to see if there was any shade we could get under.
The slurping sound hardly registered in my mind, so when I turned around to walk my Sammy again, I was surprised to find that it was nowhere to be found.[…]