ESPN Freshwater

Inspired by Keith Sutton's recent quest south of the border, I decided to venture south, too. To the south side of "El Pondo," which is Spanish for "The Pondo."

Thirty-five steps due South from the back porch of what my wife and I sometimes refer to as "The Off-White Trash Bed and Breakfast" and you will be off our property, and onto my Dad's land.

Another 35 steps South and you can be casting in the 3/4 acre El Pondo, which is a near mini replica of Mexico's famed El Salto. Now in its seventh year after construction, it has matured nicely and contains a fairly balanced fish population.

Almost every night, the kids and I venture down to the pond with our poles. Being a strict disciplinarian, there are some fierce negotiations before allowing them such frivolities.

"Can we go fishing?"

"Did you eat your veggies?"

"No."

"Did you clean up your room?"

"No."

"Close enough. Let's go!"

At least I'm asking.

Once on the water, we release everything. The fish know us; we know them. They are our pets to some extent.

The usual characters include 6 to 8 channel catfish bruisers with some approaching 10 pounds; several dozen hand-sized bluegills who follow us around the pond; and the 5-pound "crazy bass" so named because it has bitten fingers dabbled in the water off the dock and is under the impression that we are catching bluegill just for its enjoyment.

Because most fish have been caught multiple times, there seems to be some learned lure avoidance amongst the regulars. So, when not using bait, we have to keep switching lures to find something that works.

With its gentle sloping mowed Bermuda grass, the vast majority of the fishing pressure occurs on the North Side, sometimes with groups of four kids or more.

The South Side, with its relative remoteness, brushy shore, poison ivy, and 7-inch honey locust thorns, has fish that are more naive. These bass usually hit lures at which that the North Side bass would scoff.

The largest bass in the pond lives over there. No 10-pounder & yet. But a beautiful 7-pounder at least.

I have never weighed her, but during most of my angling experience, the 5- to 6-pounders have been my ceiling, and I've bumped against this barrier many times.

But this fish is noticeably different; a deeper, thicker, bucketmouth that I don't even want to lift out of the water. Just want to gently send her back to grow some more.

I know where she lurks, but I've only managed to catch her a couple of times. She is crafty. One shot, that's all you get, so you had better be ready. Set the hook and hang on. Miss your one opportunity and you'll have to console yourself with some of the pond's smaller offerings.

One evening last year just before dark, I noticed a large wake where something spun around on the other side. I stood on the North Side dock, tied on my favorite top-water lure and launched the entire distance across to the South Side into a little pocket of weeds.

As soon as it hit the water, a little bass was on, maybe an 8-incher. It jumped once, but never hit the water again. That big bass inhaled it, as if it was merely a dragonfly, and ripped it off my line.

We can reach that special hangout by negotiating a hackberry limb or two and casting from the southern end of the pond dam. My 7-year-old son has had her on twice this year. Once with a large purple rubber worm. And a couple of weeks later, she hit a surface twitching rubber frog. Both times, throwing the lure with the first jump and headshake.

The South Bank used to be accessible only by boat. About three good oar pulls and the jon boat ought to be there. But that big bass disturbs easily by a boat in this small pond. However, thanks to a recent series of surgical sorties of 2,4-D and a brush hog chaser, the South side now has some bank fishing access. Flip-flops still won't cut it; but at least there is some room to cast.

I would like to say that I was successful in guiding my son to another encounter with the biggest bass in the pond on our first trek south. But when the goal, even in a small pond, is one specific fish, a great many factors have to fall in place. The other night, this was not the case. Perhaps in our eagerness to cast from these new southern locations, we spooked her.

But that's OK. She's not going anywhere. And she's getting bigger every day.

In fact, if the kids really clean up their rooms this time, we might venture south of the border again next week. Stay tuned ...

Andy Whitcomb, a freelance writer and designer, can be reached through his Web site, justkeepreeling.com.