You ever had your teeth kicked in by your favorite local flow time and time again? Or the lake keeps kicking your ass no matter what you fish with and what time of day? Or the Gulf keeps producing rough seas, terrible weather, and you have to turn around and head back home limping? Watch the right boot, son. Anytime the above starts happening I usually curl up into a ball for an hour and then hit one of several farm ponds that are within 15 minutes drive from the casa. And I know what will happen. A-U-T-omatic. There’s one pond in particular that I call on, frequently. She always answers the phone and gives it up shortly. I don’t call any buddies and invite them along. I quietly get in the truck and mosey on down to her place….kinda looking around as I get out of the car. A couple casts in I start catching fish it seems like on every cast. I almost feel guilty about it, but hey, a fella’s gotta get his every now and then.
Farm ponds have an inner beauty that draws you to them. You remember every little positive feature about them. My favorite pond has a little footbridge for the livestock. The bass will bivouac on the rocks late in the day right beside and underneath that bridge. Then there’s that big rock you can stand on, from the far bank, that gives you a great cast either side of it down the bank. It’s absolutely perfectly for a slow retrieve with a popper or stealth bomber. Then you can cast a weighted bugger down by the damn and hookup time and time again. Like I said, you know what’s coming, and you still love it anyway.
You wouldn’t want to fish farm ponds all year long and nothing else. You want a little challenge. You want the chase, the unknown. You give the big girl a call when the well runs dry and you’re in a slump. She’s there for you and she asks nothing in return, except maybe a visit a little more frequently.