Using a Dingbat proves to be smart on Lake Fork

A cloud of disappointment swirled around me like fog on an early morning trout stream.
I had finally made it to Lake Fork after many years of reading about this bass fisherman’s fantasy in a variety of publications. Andy Cline, of Springfield Mo., and I spent the first day beating healthy portions of shoreline to a froth with numerous bass lures. We failed to get our first bite.
Daylight was rapidly fading and I decided to try a curious lure that a collector gave me. This antique lure called a “Dingbat” was manufactured in 1937, 16 years before I was born. This lure had little value. The collector found it in rough shape. He repaired it for use in antique fishing tackle tournaments, a phase that is growing in popularity across the country. I really did not expect to catch any bass. After all, the latest modern versions failed. Why would this old timer do any better?
I was, however, curious to watch its action in Fork’s crystal-clear water. I felt a twinge of worry about losing this old plug, but felt safe because my heavy test line and the lack of bass action would not be a problem. The stretch of open water in front of me promised that no snags would claim this old lure. I did not realize that the entire 27,690-acre lake averaged 10 to 15 foot in depth. In other words, that open water covered up tops of trees and other “lure-stealing stuff.”
I released a cast that sailed off the reel a surprising distance. The heavy “Dingbat” lure landed with a heavy splash. I marveled at the vibration coursing through the monofilament line. This was action one would associate with modern lures. Soon I watch the beautiful lure wobbling through a gin-clear stretch of Texas water. The “Dingbat” made moves like a deranged belly dancer. I tried not to think about that and concentrated on the lure’s action.
The next cast landed closer to shore, but still out of harm’s way. Several turns of my reel handle brought on a jolting strike. My heavy bass rod doubled and my “Dingbat” was slicing through the water, towed by a good bass that was charging like a hot-running torpedo. Line slipped off the reel. I felt more concerned about losing the lure than about catching the bass.
Monofilament line creaked as the big bass made several deep-sounding runs. The 64-year-old bass lure’s hooks were soundly imbedded in bone and flesh. The bass was only too aware of this painful fact. He wanted to lose this persistent meal. Thankfully everything worked correctly and the eight-pound largemouth bass was soon defeated and released.
Cline and I discussed the bass over a fine steak dinner with an overly-buttered baked potato and several beers. We decided on a game plan for the next day. I had trouble sleeping that night. That big bass haunted me.
I told several guides at a bait shop about the chance catch the following morning and one said, “What do you expect, this is Lake Fork. You never know what is waiting to take your lure in this land of giant bass. We have bass in Fork that could swallow a cat – a big cat.”
His words ran through my mind the next day as I flipped a spinner bait over the top of submerged brush. I eventually decided to take a break and sat back in the boat seat to enjoy a hit of morning sunlight. I slipped my hand in the warm, shallow water and noticed a strange looking log directly below my hand. I watched the log for a minute and was shocked to see it move. Later that evening a fishing guide confirmed that there were indeed alligators in Lake Fork. I kept my hands out of the water after that.
We still had not caught another bass. Fishing was slow the very weekend we decided to visit Fork. But that coincides with the old outdoor writer adage, “You should have been here last week. They were really biting then.”
I was feeling a bit sorry for myself while I cast a 12-inch purple worm against a shoreline of rocks and brush. A light “tap, tap” brought back my thoughts and I set the hook into a good bass. The big sow dove deep and hard. I had hooked the trophy of a lifetime, the reason we drove to Texas from Missouri.
The old girl’s tail splashed the surface, sending a shock through my entire being. The tail was huge. I was fighting a bass that weighed well over 10 pounds. I will never know how much over ten pounds because she managed to wrap my 20-pound-monofilament line around a deep stump. I felt extremely sick when I realized that my bass of a lifetime was gone. But I felt at least grateful to have fought her for a little while.
That big sow was not uncommon on Lake Fork. A combination of excellent structure laced with ultimate cover and excellent forage has created an excellent fishery. Fork’s Florida/Texas strain bass average lunker status quickly. Locals recommend that you leave light tackle at home.
Recommended tackle includes: medium/heavy to heavy action rods, 17 to 25-pound test line, extra spools of line, only quality bait casting or heavy spinning reels, spare parts and oil for reels and spare tips for fishing rods. Locals all say that the bass in Lake Fork don’t play nice. Fishermen occasionally return home with broken fishing rods.
Lake Fork is an exciting lake where anything might happen. You might catch the biggest bass of your life or you could even be eaten by an alligator. The possibilities are unlimited.