Monster Fishing

We all have monsters that we remember, the ones that got away, but how about the times fishing when we truly got scared?  My two most memorable lake monsters came from the same place.

In summers, growing up in Wichita, I would often visit a small lake outside of town named Lake Afton.  While my mother would sit by the swim beach and read paperbacks I would swim and fish all day.  I gained most of my early fishing skills at Lake Afton.  As I got older and had a driving permit I would sometimes drive out to Afton on my own.  Both Lake Afton Monsters, like all good monster stories, have no other witness than my own eyes, but I still remember some of the minutest details of these events.

Lake Afton Park is 720 acres with a 258 acre lake located near Goddard, KS.  A road surrounding the lake provides easy access to swimming, camping, picnicking and fishing areas.  As a boy at Lake Afton I generally fished with light tackle for blue gill, crappie, white bass, catfish, and I gained a rudimentary knowledge of black bass fishing for largemouth in the 1-2 lb. average.  The shore alternates between camping and picnic areas with mowed grass and shade trees, to reed choked cover with grass beds.

Lake Afton Monster #1 was the good kind, except for the final result.  I was standing in the shade of a large oak, hiding from a hot noonday sun, and fishing a small edge of Catfish Cove at the north end of the lake, I was catching small bass and crappie on a white beetle-spin along a steep shoreline.  The eroded mud bank dropped into 3 feet at the edge and I was casting my Zebco 33 and 5-foot Ugly Stik parallel to the bank where stick-ups and lay-downs extended into the water. 

I cast out and suddenly my rod just about jumped out of my hand.  The beetle-spin got slammed right after it hit the water and the fight was on.  The line, whatever 8# line came on Zebco 33’s back then, held up to several runs after I would get the fish within 10 feet of the bank, the light drag on the little Zebco frequently voicing its objection.  The fish never jumped, and big fish often do not, but it did leave large swirls on the otherwise calm surface whenever it came up.  Finally, after what seems like 5 minutes or more, I got the fish close enough to try and lip.  It was a largemouth bass at least 8 lbs., and possibly larger.  As I held the rod high with one hand and kneeled down next to the edge of the bank to reach out, the bass made a spectacular last surge and broke my line.  I was not scared of a bass, but that monster had me shaking with adrenalin for 15 minutes.

Monster #2 has the true meaning of the term associated with the name: an unknown entity that seemingly attacks with sudden ferocity and then disappears forever, never to have revealed exactly what it was.  Soon after my very first subscription to Bassmasters magazine I received in the mail an assortment of lures for signing up.  The package included off-set worm hooks and a package of orange and pumpkin colored 6-inch ring worms.  The newest issue had an article about fishing along reed lines with worms and I knew just the right place to try it out.

Early one summer morning I drove out to Lake Afton and parked my grandmother’s ’74 Malibu Classic in the grass near a large bank of reeds in the water.  There was about 20 feet of mud flat in front of the reeds, and then a massive patch of thick grass extended out towards the middle of the lake.

I did not own waders, so I wore an old pair of tennis shoes, cut-off shorts, and t-shirt, but it was a hot and humid summer morning and the cool water felt good.  I waded out, with the mud often squishing over the edges of the shoes, until the water touched my chest and I was standing on one end of the channel with the reeds on my left and the grass bed on my right.  Still using my trusty Zebco 33 and Ugly Stik combo, I cast the worm to the edge of the reeds and caught my first small bass.  A few small bass later and I was glad to have read the Bassmasters article and to have received my first ever bass tackle from them.

Finally, I made a long cast to the reed’s edge.  Right as the lure hit the calm water there was a swirl, and then a wave, created by something large under the surface, arcing away from the reeds to the middle of the channel and turning right towards me!  It did not have my lure and I didn’t know what it was, had never seen this before, and I began to panic.  There was at least 40 feet between me and where the lure landed and it took me a few seconds to realize that something was coming my way fast, something larger than I had ever caught.

It was probably a carp; maybe a catfish or even a large turtle, but I will always call it the Lake Afton Monster.  My first reaction was to turn and run, but standing in mud with water up to my chest, I would not be able to.  The monster’s wake was 20 feet from me when I started to beat the surface with the rod, whacking the surface franticly with the Ugly Stik.  The thing kept coming.  Knowing I couldn’t move efficiently and probably frozen with fear, I was planted in place.  I slammed the rod down harder and faster as the monster got closer and closer.  Until, just as I was half turning to try and run but still slapping the rod down on the water, the beast curved away and the wake disappeared at the edge of the grass bed, never to be seen again, and leaving me wide-eyed and shaking.