Chris catches fish on homemade lures

Wanting to take advantage of the incredible weather, I left the house a little early today, my sights set on the pond. My goal: fish exclusively with homemade lures, and catch some fish on them.

The first one I threw out was my first hand-carved lure; my imitation of a jitterbug. I took a spoon from Flaco's Tacos, broke off the spoon part, and screwed it in the front of the lure. I painted the wood with model paint, affixed the screw things that hold on the split rings (eyelets?) by screwing them in by hand, put on the hooks, and added eyes. I spent about 3 hours carving the little piece of balsa wood with an X-acto knife, sanding it down, and carving it some more. And I wasn't even wearing flannel!

My impression of a jitterbug

First cast, I was impressed by the action in the water. I don't understand why, but when I retrieved the lure, it weaved back and forth like a fish. I expected it to just come straight toward me, but I guess the spoon made it wiggle. I realize now it was an extra large spoon, which pushed a TON of water. Watching it, it sure seemed like a good thing- any fish anywhere NEAR the pond could have heard it splashing.

Second cast, it hit the water with a big splash, and I let it sit for a minute. I looked down at my reel, trying to make sure I didn't have any line issues, when I heard a splash. I looked back up at the pond, and my lure was gone! My line started moving. Fish on!!

I knew it was a largemouth- it broke the surface and I saw its profile. I estimated it was 10-12" long, not a huge fish but average for the pond. It was fighting strongly- although nothing like the smallies yesterday. My drag was lose, so as I tried to bring the fish in, I tightened my drag... Maybe that was a mistake. About five feet away from me, my homemade lure in its mouth, suddenly all the tension went away and the fish disappeared into the water. 

It took me a minute to understand what happened. I looked at the end of my line and all that was there was a screw and the spoon, no lure. The short screws in the soft wood were no match for this powerful fish! I stood there, ecstatic that my lure caught a fish, but devastated that a fish was swimming around with a bunch of wood and metal in his mouth, and I couldn't get it out for him. I hoped that  the lure would work itself out his mouth, I'd heard that could happen. I'll admit, I wasn't too happy to immediately lose a lure I'd spent so much time making... On the other hand, I could make more, and I had the knowledge that it would catch fish. Just have to make sure everything is very sturdy.

My torpedo imitation.... not awesome in the water

Next I tied on the other topwater lure I'd carved: this one was supposed to be my impression of a Hedon Torpedo. I carved it, glued aluminum foil, scratched in a scale pattern with a paper clip, added eyes, painted gills, and added the hardware. I'm not going to lie, it looked pretty bad in the water. The propellor blades on either end didn't actually hit the water- the wood sat too high in the water! After a few casts, I decided to go back to the drawing board on this one. The action was lame, if I were a fish I wouldn't be interested.

I unhooked the silver lure and put on another one: yesterday I got the idea to make a lure with a soda can. I cut out some metal from a Coke can in a rough fish-like shape, and ran a wire through it. I used an old torn tube jig for the tail, and again added a scale pattern using a paper clip. I wonder how much of this detail is lost on the fish and only matters to the fisherman.

This looked SWEET in the water

I thought it looked AWESOME in the water! I've never seen a baitfish dying, but this sure looked like how I'd imagine it. The tube jig tail provided an awesome action in the water, and the silver coke can added GREAT flash. I could see it reflecting from deep in the murky water. Only problem was the huge amount of weeds that collected on the lure! I'd have to try this one in open water for sure.

I snapped on my Jackson Pollock Rattler - my first beer cap lure. I drilled two holes in it, attached split rings, put 3 tiny split shots inside it, and folded the cap. Added a tiny treble hook, some nail polish, and that was it. This one did not look amazing in the water, it seemed too heavy... It fell very quickly; I wondered if less weight would provide better action. I wouldn't have to wait too long- I have a few beers a week and have been keeping all the caps.

my Jackson Pollock rattler

Now it was time for the lure I was really excited about- my impression of a Mepps Black Fury. The Black Fury had been very successful for me in lots of water, especially the pond. At the craft store on the weekend I scoured the aisles for bucktail, and ended up buying a pack of fake feathers. At least I think they're fake. I don't have a fancy fly-tying vice; I just held the hook in my hand while I used light wire to tie the feathers on the treble hook. I attached it to a split ring to the hook (the idea was to provide more movement to the dressing) then added the rest of the hardware. One of my new brass bodies, a red bead, a white quick-change clevis, a green bead; then I twisted the top of the wire into an eye.

On my commute I got the idea to use a sharpie to customize my lures, an easy way to draw patterns and add color. At home in my makeshift lure-making workshop (right next to my music-making workshop) I got the idea to take a black sharpie to a brass blade and make a Black Fury-style pattern. I think it looks pretty good!

This casted pretty well and looked incredible in the water. It only took a little pull to get the blade spinning, and the dressed hook moving around in the water even made me hungry. There was a lot of space for movement of the hardware along the wire shaft; I wondered how much that contributed to the great action of my lure. Standing on the pipe watching it move in the water, it seemed pretty similar to a Black Fury... maybe even better.

My imitation of a Mepps Black Fury

I reeled it in, and cast it out again, this time to the middle of the pond. It fell, and then, BAM! Fish on!

There was a giant splash, and from across the pond I saw the outline of a big fish. It was thrashing around, water flying everywhere. A few weeks ago I caught a giant LMB from around the same spot- on a Black Fury #3 - but this fish seemed different.... And I had a hunch on what it was....

My suspicion was confirmed as it broke the water again, and I saw the body of a catfish. A catfish! On a spinner! That I made! AWESOME!

I was giddy with excitement! I hoped it wouldn't break my lure; this was worth a picture for sure. I brought it close to the pipe, and I saw it was a big fish. A BIG fish. I am pretty good a lipping bass and treating them nice so as to not disturb their protective slime coating, but I really can't figure out how to deal with catfish. Especially one this big- I certainly couldn't hold it with one hand. Normally I do everything I can to treat the fish as nice and gently as possible- after all, I am the one who hooked them in the mouth with sharp metal! The least I can do is release them unharmed.

But with a catfish, particularly one this big, I'm at a loss. I suppose the best thing to do might be lay down some a wet garbage bag on the ground, and put the cat on that while I unhook it, perhaps wearing gloves to grip the fish. Today I didn't have a garbage bag, or even gloves. So, as carefully as I could, I placed the catfish on the wet grass, hoping to quickly unhook it, take a picture or two, and return it to the water.

20" catfish caught on my homemade lure

As soon as I set it down I saw that my lure was buried deep in its mouth. I was worried...! Added to that, the fish was incredibly feisty, and never really stopped jumping around. I took a rough measurement, using my rod as a guide.. I estimated this fish to be at least 20," and maybe even fatter than the 24" I caught two weekends ago at the same spot. Trying to hold the fish still between my legs- completely aware of the toxin-filled dorsal fin inches from my ankles, as well as the sharp treble hook inside the angry fish's mouth- I tried to unhook the beast. Tentatively putting my hand in its mouth, certainly not forgetting what happened the last time I put my hand in a catfish's mouth, I did everything I could do to get the lure out... to no avail. It looked like only one of the hooks was actually in the fish, but it was in there pretty good.

After spending a great deal of time trying to get my lure out of this amazing fish, I realized it just wasn't going to happen. The longer the fish was out of water, in the grass, its slime coming off, the worse off it would be. I hoped that the lure would work itself out. I was beside myself; I felt so bad for hurting this fish, and even worse for not being able to remove my hardware. I guess that's part of fishing- the goal of the sport is to grab fish with sharp objects; there's no way around that. I certainly don't want to inflict pain on fish for the sake of dishing out pain, but normally I can live with hooking fish in the lip. This case was not so cut and dry, and I felt bad.

As carefully as I could, I carried the fish over to the water, and put it in the water. Without any hesitation, it splashed and returned to the deep, my awesome lure attached.

I had to leave to catch my train. As I collapsed my rod and put my tackle box back in my backpack, I worried about my catfish friend... On the other hand, everything I've heard and read has told me catfish are survivors- maybe there was a good chance this one would be ok.

I made it, and it caught a fish!

A Couple Fish on the Fox

EDIT: Originally I thought the fish I caught were smallies, but upon discussion with WCF members, maybe they are spotted bass! That counts as a new species for me!


If even a year ago you told me that I would be regularly getting up at 4am, gleefully I might add, I would have said you were insane. The idea that I will- completely on purpose- set my alarm to such a small number still confounds me. Even knowing full well that I could easily face the skunk, no pictures of me holding fish to post. But I do know with some certainty that I will have some kind of misadventure while I'm trying to catch fish, and maybe that is part of the appeal.

Nah, I just want to catch me some fish!

Saturday morning, as I heated up some oatmeal in the microwave, this song suddenly got stuck in my head:

I backed out of the driveway at 4:28am, the racing green mini containing my fishing supplies. I was bringing my gear in a backpack, and this time only a single rod. Carrying two rods through the thick foliage last weekend was a challenge.

I turned on the radio and the country song stuck in my head was immediately drowned out by the thick grooves of Fela Kuti, who some call the African James brown. Turns out they were doing some kind of Fela show, so my entire journey to the fox was underscored by raw Nigerian funk. As I drove I thought about how much I love the music of Fela Kuti- and country music too. I should make some music soon.

Got to the spot, stumbled out of the car, and wandered off into the darkness.

I made a beeline to the unpaved path that appeared to become swallowed by the trees; but I knew better. I'd seen it in daylight, and knew it lead to the water. I wouldn't be aimlessly hiking in the dark THIS time.

I wasn't super familiar with the river, or even rivers in general, but the water level definitely seemed low. I was able to walk out 40' into the river, my sturdy LL Bean boots gripping the rocks. There wasn't even water flowing over the rocks- it looked like a temporary peninsula, which I was sure would disappear after an adequate rain.

I turned off my headlamp, and took in the complete darkness, accompanied by the incredibly soothing sound of gurgling water. The moon- which was being what I think is called a waxing gibbous - provided just enough light for me to get my rod ready.

I wasn't sure what smallies liked in the dark, but I knew largemouths went for black spinnerbaits in low light conditions. I tied one on and began casting.

One of the best things about being out and about before the sun is up is that you get to watch it rise. Although I couldn't see the sun itself, I could see it's light slowly bursting onto the scene, illuminating the colorful trees one leaf at a time. I saw some movement upstream, and I saw the most deer I'd ever seen. At least 20 deer were crossing the river, stopping every few steps and glancing in my direction. Apparently I was far enough away not to bother them, and they didn't seem to mind me taking some pictures.

Deer crossing the river

Now that it was light, I switched to 4" white twister tails on what I think were 1/16oz jigheads. Last week i had great success with the white grubs, and based on some advice from the friendly folks at windycityfishing.com i downsized my jig weight hoping to avoid as many hangups.

I worked my way upstream, casting in what I thought were likely locations. I didn't see any baitfish, so I kept moving. After field testing my new boots the previous weekend, I felt more confident in my steps. To avoid downed trees, I simply walked through the water. I had my eye on a pair of waders, but being so late in the season, i figured they might make a nice Christmas gift. Hint hint, wife!

I still couldn't locate any little fish smallies might want to eat, so I focused on trying to read the river. I looked at visible rocks and what effect they had on the surface, trying to extrapolate which ripples farther out were caused by rocks, which in turn might hold smallies.

But really, I just blindly casted. I did the best I could, casting where I thought they might be... but it's entirely possible I was a foot or two off, missing a 20" bass every cast. That's ok- after enough trips like this, maybe I'll have amassed some experience, which probably trumps reading about reading rivers on the Internet.

Standing in the middle of the river

Farther up the river I found myself staring at a mini-rapids, filled with a huge variety of different speed water, pools, water rushing over rocks, next to water somehow flowing backwards... This seems promising, I thought, stepping out in the running water. One of these things might be one of the places I'm supposed to look for fish. The water rushed around my feet, immediately flowing over the top of my boots, soaking my socks. Disregarding my discomfort, I kept on fishing.

There were no fish there, I concluded, after exploring every foot of the area with my jig. Upstream, I saw a guy fly fishing. Looked like he had some nice waders. I wonder what he was fishing for.. Can you catch smallies on a fly? Are there trout here!? From what I understand, you can catch most fish on the fly, but I hadn't heard of many smallie chasers who preferred a fly rig. There's so much I don't know about fishing, even after spending all of my free time trying to learn about it!

I decided to move downstream, toward where I parked. Maybe I could find some nice fish in the spots that produced fish last weekend. It really seems the most difficult thing with fishing, at least with bass fishing, is finding the damn fish. Once I know where they are, at least I don't have the constant urge to move to a different spot.

Salmon fishing might be different- just cast and cast and cast until one gets mad enough to attack your lure. Since I still haven't hooked into one, this is obviously still a mystery to me.

It walked along the path in my bulky, now dripping wet boots. Still no baitfish. I saw a shallow rock bridge leading to a promising looking island- maybe they are over there, said the desperate voice in my head.

I splashed through the water, unsuccessfully trying not to splash the water, and found myself on the island (which I thought was a peninsula, more on that later...) It looked like normally this is cut off from land, but due to the water level I was able to walk to it. Like Alaska and Russia, or something.

I worked my way along the coast, casting, my lovely wife texting for a fish count. I could have texted back a high number, but then I would have needed proof in the form of pictures. And you probably shouldn't lie to your wife.

Continuing along the coast, I suddenly realized that this was NOT a peninsula, but an island! Following the shore back upstream, I struggled to find a suitable path. Scanning the forest, I stepped and instantly found myself up the thighs* in the mud. Slowly sinking the rest of the way.

* Slight exaggeration, as you can tell by the picture below

For about 10 seconds I pictured my body being discovered by Bones or CSI, encased in the mud for generations. Snapping out if it, I reached for a nearby tree, and hoisted myself out of the mud with a loud squelching sound. I looked down at my boots, completely incased in a thick layer of dark brown camouflage. There was so much profanity happening in my head I'm surprised it didn't leak out and scare all the birds away. But it didn't, and they continued to chirp mockingly.

My boots, with mud camo

I eventually made my way back to the land bridge, and found myself back on the shore. No more aimless wandering, no more empty iphone photo library. On a mission, I quickly headed down the path, scanning the shore as I walked.

And then, I saw them. Wakes in the water, just a few feet from shore that I knew were fish. I've learned a lot from fishing the pond by my house- from my spot I can see the fish and how they swim, and what effect their streamlined bodies have on the top of the water. It's nice to be able to apply knowledge! Looking at the water here on the Fox, I wasn't sure whether the wakes were tiny baitfish or larger predators. There was almost no current at this spot, and the water seemed to be about a foot deep. Seemed like an unlikely spot, but nonetheless I saw the wakes of fish and knew they were there.

I cast my twister and jig just past a small pile of branches- the same pile of branches that gave me two smallies for my fishing photo album the previous weekend.

And then, on the second cast, the water erupted and a very nice smallmouth bass burst out of the water, doing somersaults in the air, my lure lightly attached to its lip. Its acrobatics were enough to throw the hook, but the adrenaline rush coursed through my veins telling me to recast quickly! So i found them! That was a good start.

A few casts later, a little fella latches onto the end of my line. I quickly bring him to shore, wanting some proof that I actually caught a fish today.

first fish of the day

He looked a lot like a largemouth to me, but his mouth didn't seem to extend past his eye... So I guess it was a smallie? Even simple fish identification still escapes me.. But at least I hadn't gotten skunked.

A few minutes later I pull out an even smaller fish, who immediately resigned himself to capture, not even putting up a fight. Looking at this fish, it looks even more like a largemouth to me. The pronounced lateral line, the light green coloring, the mouth that seems to extend past the eye. I know largies like slackwater and weeds, but I thought they were uncommon in the fox. If the fish I was holding was in fact a largemouth, maybe that counts for something!

I continued casting, my line getting tangled in the low hanging branches of some kind of berry tree. Each time I got it free, I found my fingers covered in blue berry juice.

Apparently there were only two fish there, because another half hour of casting wasn't enough to produce any more bass. I headed downstream, toward the spot where I caught my very first smallmouth. (well, of 2011.)

I emerged from the forest and immediately banged my knee- hard- on a pipe sticking out of the ground. It was hidden by tall grasses. I'm pretty sure some of the colorful language leaked out at that point.

I looked toward the shore and saw some people hanging out with rods propped up, lines in the water. I greeted them and asked what they were fishing for, but I don't think they understood what I was asking. Unfortunately they weren't speaking Spanish, which I could have used to communicate, they seemed to be speaking Russian or polish or something like that.

They said they were using worms, and pulled a stringer out of the water that had 2 medium sized carp and one catfish on it. Nice! Although many people wouldn't consider those prize fish, I was happy that they were catching fish. I was also happy they didn't have any smallies on the stringer. Some people seem to look down on people who fish to eat, but if the fish are legal size it is completely within their rights. And when you think about it, it is actually a little strafe to fish just for the sport, and throw back good-tasting fresh-caught fish. Seems like pretty much everywhere else in the world, you fish to eat.. Not everyone has the luxury of grocery stores and fish counters everywhere.

Although I'm not interested in eating carp or catfish- at least today- I respect those who do; we are all enjoying the outdoors and getting different things out of it.

Wishing them good luck, I went back into the forest, tripping on a branch and landing in the mud. Ok, this was the theme of the day.

I couldn't find any more baitfish, or even workable shoreline- I didn't want to walk out into deeper water, refilling my boots with water, so I found a path and continued south. I came to a bench at an overlook, about 20' above the water. I tried casting from my perch, but it wasn't really feasable. Walking through the forest again, I found what looked like a dry creekbed, which I figured would lead down to the river.

I was right- I made it to a nice rocky shoreline, and cast there for a while. A kayaker paddled by, wishing me luck. The river was beautiful- full of birds, the morning sun painting everything with a warm yellow hue, the sound of bubbling water, the splash of my lure, the sound of my reel as I turned the handle.

I didn't catch any more fish, but it was a great morning to be out. I hiked back to my car, and saw some turtles sunning themselves in a small pond.

Turtles in a half shell

I made a few casts with my black scum frog, only to lose it to some tree branches. With that, I returned to the path and headed to my car. I stripped down to my t-shirt and underwear - everything else was soaked and/or covered in mud - and loaded the trunk. I sat down in the driver's seat, started the car, and headed out. As I pushed the accelerator with my bare foot, I vowed to return to some water this weekend and catch some more fish. I also turned on the heat, cause my feet were cold.

An evening of multi-species firsts

Fish are awesome!

or "The Magic of the Green Tube Jig"

Headed out to the new spot on the Chicago River yesterday evening after work, scarfed some Jimmy John's down on the #124 bus (didn't want to waste time eating when I could be fishing), which was filled with Navy Pier-goers.

Daiwa Peanut Crank in prizm black shad

Got off before they all did, ready to hit the spot. I already rigged a chigger craw per Jeff's suggestion, and took about 30 seconds to piece together my collapsible rod. When I got to the spot, I noticed the same security guard was there - right by the water - so I decided to fish from the other side of the river and wait until he left.

I think I'm getting much better at casting, because I was able to consistently get my lure in what I thought was the strike zone from about 50' (?). Although this was great casting practice, I wasn't getting so much as a nibble. I remembered one of the many fishing mantras I've heard over and over again: "If what you're doing doesn't work, change!" Since I wasn't ready to change my location (the security guard was still chatting it up with some ladies) I tied on a Daiwa Peanut Medium Crankbait in Prizm Black Shad color. I had never caught a fish on a crankbait, but I know there were little fish swimming around, so I'd give it a go.

The spot. Notice the security guard in the upper-right-hand corner. Outside the frame is the "No Fishing" sign

My first cast, the crank landed exactly where I wanted it- I waited for the ripples to stop, and I twitched it a few times (this crank floated on the top until you started retrieving it. Maybe that's how all crankbaits work, but I've barely used them...) On the third twitch, WHAM! Fish on!

This was no tentative bite, this was "Hey gimme that right now I'm hungry! MMmmmmm!" I set the hook, and began the short battle. I pulled up, reeled, pulled up, reeled - Jeremy Wade style - to keep the fish from going down into the rebar that I knew was on the bottom. As it came closer, fighting voraciously, I saw it was a fair-sized fish. Whoohoooo!

My 30 minute skunk-fest ended, I pulled up a good sized bluegill (pumpkinseed? I always confuse them), which was not only my first crankbait catch, but my first Chicago River gill!

A real nice-sized fish, who gave me a great fight

It took me a while to get the treble hook (actually 1 part of it broke off, so there were only 2 hooks in the fish) but once I did, I snapped a quick picture and let my new best friend back into the water. She (I think) was happy to go and quickly darted to the bottom.

Alright! I thought- I found something that worked! I cast to the same spot, and twitched it the same way.... and... nothing. Worked that lure for another 20 minutes, and again, not even a nibble.

A mom and her 4-year-old (?) son came down to watch. The little kid thought my pretend fish was pretty awesome, and it "swims just like a real fish!" It sure does! I think it's pretty awesome too. "There's a lot of trash in there. Fish don't eat trash. Ducks don't eat trash." He was right- it's too bad people are so careless with their McDonald's cups and candy bar wrappers.

The security guard gone, with a chigger craw tied back on, I tiptoed to the other side of the river and threw my lure in. This, mind you, was in front of a very large "NO FISHING" sign. I worked the bait against the wall, bunny-hopping it along; dragged it along the bottom near some falling water (fish love oxygen, right?), and again, nothing.

Around this time I noticed two ladies having a smoke break by the water, giving me some dirty looks. Obviously they didn't like me fishing there, but I'm not sure what they didn't like.. All my gear was in my backpack, on my back, and I wasn't casting anywhere near them. Any monofilament line went right back into my backpack, and I wasn't making a sound. I wasn't smoking, drinking, shouting, or littering.

I noticed the security guard come back around the corner, and started talking to the ladies. They spoke in hushed tones, but then one said loudly "Go get'em!"

I heard the keys on his belt rattle as he walked in my direction, but I kept fishing because I got a few nibbles in the spot, and I thought it would be awesome to pull out a smallie or something right when he came down. He came up about 10' behind me and whispered "Hey"

I turned around, and he recognized me from last week. He explained that he didn't care if I fished there or not, but those ladies were complaining. He told me to go back to the other side, but I could come back to this spot when the ladies left. If the sidewalk I was on was in fact city property as Jeff said it was, then this was all total mierda, but I wanted to keep fishing. So I went to the other side, and continued fishing.

Fish #2

They left about 3 minutes later, I went back to the other side, and the security guard gave me a thumbs up. Ok, cool. I wonder what he would have done if I complained about the ladies' smoking. Seems to me that is a lot more disruptive than a silent, careful, respectful angler wearing a backpack. Not to mention the ~20 people who stopped to talk to me, seemingly sincerely interested that there are fish in the river. I'm guessing some of them will come back and fish sometime!

Back to fishing, I tried some more lures, to no avail. Chigger craw, cranks, minnows on jig (worked last week), and nothing. I decided to bust out my all-time favorite lure, that has caught me more fish than any other, probably because I fish with it so much- my green tube jig.

Of course, immediately, first cast, I got a hit! and reeled in a nice looking rock bass. Cha-ching! I'm in!

It had a very interesting pattern I hadn't seen before, with dark splotches. Kind of pretty. This is rock bass, and not some other species, right? Remember, I'm still super new to all this.

Kept working the tube jig, got LOTS of little hits. Saw a brown colored fish in the water hanging out with a bunch of dink 'gills. Couldn't tell what it was (smallie? smallie? smallie?) Pitched the jig ~4' beyond the fish, and crawfished it over toward the brown fish. WHAM! Fish on!

This guy fought even harder than the previous two fish, and I was very surprised to see a ~10" catfish come out of the water attached to my green tube jig. This was my fourth catfish ever, first one on the river, and first one on an artificial! Whooohoooo!

My new friend, the catfish, fish #3 of the day

Fish #4 - My first Chicago River crappie!

This was kind of weird; usually when I get into some fish, I'll get into some more of the same kind in the same place on the same bait, but not today. Today was multi-species day! And it kept going- a few minutes later I got my first Chicago River crappie... on the same green tube jig.

Awesome! None of these fish are huge, but hey, it's great to catch fish. It's also really cool there is such a variety of fish right here- I know there are also LMB and smallies around here, and I'd been seeing carp jump all evening. To think a few 20 years ago this river was a disgusting trough of toxic waste, it speaks volumes of the river cleanup and awareness that it can support all these fish today.

I caught mussels! (Fish #4 1/2?)

I kept with my favorite lure, and was getting battered by hits. Missed a few hooksets, and got caught up in some branches a few times. One cast I got into a fish, it pulled the jig down, and when I reeled in I got another very interesting catch. I wasn't sure if they were zebra mussels or not, I should look that up so I know if they are nice mussels or bad mussels. I thought of how much I like eating mussels... Don't worry, I didn't eat them.

Anyway, I persisted, and hooked into what seemed like a VERY nice fish. Could it be? Finally? After all this time and effort, could I have finnally hooked a smallie?? Is this the moment I've been daydreaming about?

This fish gave me a GREAT fight- I estimated it was bigger than the bluegill I caught earlier in the evening; it was taking me all over the place, my rod tip bent and pulsing, my drag squealing as I struggled to keep it out of the weeds, rebar, and rocks on the bottom...

I finally get him to the surface, and I was a little confused, to say the least..

Confused because it's very small size, un-rock-bass-like shape, and extreme fight. I didn't think this was a smallie, it's fins and pattern seemed to be wrong for that... It didn't seem like a rock bass, or did it? It was a lot darker than any other rock bass I'd caught.

Here's the fish I caught...

... here's a picture of a "shadow bass"

..and here's a similarly-sized rock bass

And here I was, thinking I was all fancy and good at identifying fish now... and now I was stumped. I took a few pictures, and let the little bugger go. It was time to leave to catch my train, so I could see my wife for a few minutes before we both went to sleep.

All in all a great outing- but it really made me wonder about the green tube jig. Is it that is really that effective, and can catch basically anything that swims? Or could it be that since I've fished with it more than any other lure, I am better at working it in the water than any other lure... Or maybe I just suck at all the other lures I try using...

I'm not sure; I'm going to keep varying up my lures and not automatically start with the green tube jig on my line... I would like to get better at other lure styles, and learn to be a well-rounded all-species angler.