When the Bass Hit My Lucky Hat

Dawn painted the lake in molten gold as my waders sank into the shallows. The scent of damp moss mixed with the tang of my hard bait oils - today's choice was a firetiger crankbait still crusted with last week's battle scars. 'Should've retied these hooks,' I muttered, fingering the frayed line just as a bass exploded beneath my knees.

For twenty frantic minutes, the world narrowed to singing spinning reel and the odd angle of my favorite baseball cap dipping into the fight. When the lunker finally rolled onto the bank, I found three bluegill scales glittering on the brim of my hat. The lake always collects its dues.