In search of bass

CAREFREE, Ariz. — It might have started on the golf course, probably after one of us hooked a drive onto the roof of a house or biffed a 3-foot uphill putt.

"Who decided this was a good idea? The 'towards' on my clubs doesn't work. Suppose there are any bass in that pond?"

And there it was. Surely, my adventuresome buddy Mike Wirth and I mused, there must be more to the desert southwest than bogeys, biking and bocce ball.

So off we went last March in search of the elusive largemouth bass in a world far removed from our beloved Mississippi River.

Back in Iowa, we might see an occasional raccoon or opossum in the back yard at night. At the house where we stay here, it's a wild kingdom after the sun sets with bobcats, coyotes, javelinas, foot-long roof rats and great horned owls prowling the neighborhood.

Maybe they'd run off if we went outside. Maybe not.

  Buy Photo

Back in Iowa, a fox squirrel might skitter across the deck to tease our cat, Wally. Here, there's a bobcat that has stopped by to visit Wally a couple of times during the day. We're not sure if it wants to play or if Wally looks like filet mignon.

Fishing here is different, too, in the land of cacti, cocklebur and a variety of reptiles and even mammals that can hurt you.

Our best options are massive reservoirs carved into the mountains that are cold, deep and challenging to traverse with their rocky shorelines and changes in elevation. Last year, we unlocked the secrets of Lake Pleasant. It only took about a dozen outings to produce about a dozen bass while hiking miles of shoreline and sight fishing.

  Buy Photo

Occasionally, we’d run into somebody else who likes to fish down here. We've heard tales of giant crappies up to 18 inches, catfish large enough to consume a small animal and big-bellied bass that venture into the shallows in March and April. However, it's not Lake Pleasant that they rave about.

"You've got to try Bartlett Lake," we've heard several times. "It's way better than Pleasant."

Our curiosity piqued, we set off for Bartlett, which is roughly 50 miles northeast of Phoenix nestled along the Mazatzal Mountains in the Tonto National Forest. It was the first reservoir built on the Verde River, and it covers 2,800-plus acres when full with an average depth of 100 feet and a max depth of 175 feet.

A brief review of maps available on the internet pointed us toward the north end where there is plenty of water less than 20 feet deep and a variety of rocky coves to explore. Theoretically, the bass should be cruising the shallows as the water warms up looking for suitable spawning sites.

Apparently, the fish haven't read that chapter. While Bartlett is much easier to get around, at least along the west shoreline, our first visit was a lot like our first outings at Lake Pleasant. Most of the boats we saw were working deep structure off the opposite shoreline. We never saw a fish.

Over the next few days, the temperature climbed into the 90s and I watched a couple of encouraging videos on YouTube.

"This has got to get those fish perked up," I offered as Mike weaved through the morning traffic at 80 mph.

At the lake, we went off-roading and drove as far north as a rocky, one-lane path allowed to water we hadn't reached on our first trip. We cautiously picked our way down the stony bank where one wrong step can trigger an avalanche or a trip to the emergency room.

After a few unproductive casts, I decided to explore the next section of lake.

"I'm heading up this little mountain," I told Mike. "I might be coming down a bit faster than I'm going up."

An hour later, we reconnected. Neither of us had seen a bass, let alone caught one. For a brief moment, it occurred to me that maybe we should have gone back to the scene of last year's glory at Lake Pleasant.

"Nah," I told myself. "That would be like quitting a round of golf after making a par."

Over the next couple of days, we pondered.

"Time's running out," Mike said. "We've only got a couple more days we can fish before we go back to Iowa. They're bass, for crying out loud. How hard can it be?"

Pretty hard, I thought to myself.

"Want to play golf tomorrow?" I offered.