#6 Worms

Sometimes the simplest solution works the best. Growing up fishing small ponds, I’ve always had faith in the basic worm and bobber set up. If there are fish, they will bite it. For my money, there isn’t a more relaxing form of fishing than drifting in the canoe with a worm and bobber floating off the side and hooking into a bunch of feisty bluegill. Occasional, you’ll even get a bass to indulge in the juicy nightcrawler.

Worm fishing is all about waiting and I think it is the inactivity of this form of fishing that draws me to it. You almost have to bet on your senses and believe that the fish will be waiting right where you drop that worm. Worm fishing takes all the patience to can muster up but the payoff is worth it. Watching that bobber pop a couple times and then disappear under the water is like seeing the last bar line up on the slot machine. Cha Ching!

I’ve spent many summers on small ponds in the canoe with my brother. I think my obsession with worm fishing gets to him after a while, especially when the bait machine at the lake is out of nightcrawlers. I carry with me a small plastic box with a snap top just for this occasion. Before shoving off, I’ll flip every rock along the muddy shoreline and snatch up all the worms I can find. Usually, within the hour, I’ll need to refill. We’ll pull over to the bank when I see a group of rocks under a shady tree near the water that looks like the perfect worm bed. I reload my little box and we head back out. For an artificial worm fisherman, like my brother, I’m sure it becomes annoying after the fifteenth time I’ve disturbed “the perfect spot” to jump out and hunt worms but, he needs to understand the addiction.

The rush I get when I hook into a hungry group of ‘gills is something I come back for over and over. Knowing that there is a school of fish waiting for your next cast is exhilarating. A big part of that thrill for me is catching those fish on the worms I find. There’s something so primitive and raw about that style of fishing. It’s a method that has worked for centuries. It’s a connection to the earth; a self-reliant, living-off-the-land kind of thing. It’s the kind of fishing that lives deep inside of us. It is our roots.

So, the next time you drop a worm in the water, think about our ancestors and the millions of fish they caught doing the exact same thing. And, if you’re brother is an artificial worm fisherman, make sure you only stock up on enough worms to last you to the next big rock under a shady tree.