The ride through the canal was like being in Venice- with overhanging oaks and flowers and ferns a botanical wonder just this side of Heaven.
We passed under the bridge there was a pattering thunder as a car passed over.It startled a big bass lying by the canals hewn side boards and he scooted by us looking for cover.
It was like entering the land time forgot-when we exited the canal to Lake Osceola--the lake like a mirror showed trees great and small and moss hung like tinsel and a mist floated free-among the clouds and blue sky.
I could see our reflection and the deepening bottom,white sand and green grass left a lasting impression as dad cut off the engine and and put the trolling motor down, it was time to fish.
With a flip of his wrist dad was the first to cast-he had a bite set the hook and I was in last as a 2 pound bass came over the side dad said your behind son with that twinkle in his eye.
I dropped the plastic worm right next to the lillies let it sink and then rise and then over again reeling slowly toward me-than do it again.
I felt a tap put the rod tip down slowly reeled in the slack till I felt it again and jerked the rod and sank the hook ,it was a scrappy bass that felt much larger but he only went a pound and a half but it was enough to tie dad-then we went back and forth matching each for the total-and by the time we passed the scenic boat tour dock we each had three bass about the same size.Dad said its not going to matter son it's how you finish that counts-and I'm waiting for the big boy to bite.
We fished the scenic lake and caught a couple more then headed for the long winding canal to lake Maitland to fish around dog island.
We put on the sonic lures with those shaking metal beads and worked the eel grass on the far side-I hung the fish and he came up like a rocket shaking his head like a bulldog side to side,31/2 pounds and I took the lead-on the old man and still he just smiled.
The count was now 6 to five me as I allowed myself a grin we headed toward Lake Mizell-I led in numbers and big fish too,could this be my day?
Lake Mizell was my favorite Lake,it was dark and mysterious and had a really deep hole and trees and deep jungle. It was close to the famous genius drive a botanical garden with visual treasures to see and the curdling screams of the peacocks could be heard yelling for help.
If there was a bass to challenge the record to my way of thinking lake Mizel was the place and still is today-hiding deep under cover in that ancient old pool he has survived by staying hidden except to feed.
Dad said this is it son the last lake to fish I'll give you a chance to win he said with a grin--the Odacity I say--He was giving me no respect,I was leading and he acted like I had lost--
Dad said throw your worm over there by the canal entrance on the right side--there's an 8/12 pounder there-just waiting to be caught.
Did he think I was a fool to fall for that--I cast my line to the deep water.
Dad said son I tried to help and with a masters touch he dropped his lure and bounced it off the sideboard right on the spot--and said-there he is-I just gave him the look--he set the hook and his rod bent way over-his drag whined and the huge fish broke cover a fat 81/2pounder and the contest was over. In memory of my dad Ben
written by the Codger Man