Keith Lusher 03.21.25
You don’t see snow in Louisiana much. So when the weather called for 34 degrees and the biggest snowstorm in 100 years, going fishing was the last thing on my mind. But I kept thinking about this deep hole I knew about. I watched them dig this lake 15 years ago, and I remembered exactly where they dug out a 15-foot hole in what’s mostly a 7-foot-deep lake. This deep hole in the lake has always produced during the winter months, so I figured if there were bass in 40-degree weather, there should be plenty in 30-degree air temps.
The reasoning is simple: the bass are going to be searching for the area with the warmest water, and a hole that is 15 feet deep offers water that is probably 5-8 degrees warmer than the rest of the lake, which is 7 feet. I pulled up to the lake and trudged through the snow directly to that deep hole. I could already feel my fingers going numb as I tied on a black-and-blue Beast Coast Hustler Hybrid Finesse Jig.
I fished that spot for twenty minutes straight, just dragging the jig slowly across the bottom. No fancy stuff – just a slow, steady pull. My fingers were beginning to throb, and snow was starting to stick to my fishing line and rod guides.
That’s when I felt it. My line just stopped, then moved left. I dropped my rod tip and set the hook hard. This was a good fish, but I could feel it was a bit lethargic as it didn’t put up much of a fight. When I got the fish about 10 years away, it surfaced, and I tried to make a half-hearted jump. That was all it took to see how big it was. All I could say was “No way” over and over while I watched my line cut through the falling snow.
While the bass didn’t put up much of a fight, it seemed to outsmart me as it ran under a submerged log that had a few branches sticking out of the water. Sure enough, My line got tangled in the branches. There I was, watching this fish swim in circles right in front of me, just out of reach. The line wasn’t coming loose. So I did what any already frost-bitten fisherman would do – I jumped right in after it.
That water felt like ice, but I got my hand on that bass’s lip. I yanked it out of the water and scrambled back up the bank, grinning from ear to ear. I’ve caught plenty of bigger bass, but this four-pounder was special.
They always say the best fishing happens in the worst weather. Most times, that’s just talk. But every now and then, if you know where to fish and you’re crazy enough to try, it turns out to be true. Even in Louisiana. Even in the snow.
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