The truth about toads

By Matt Williams

May 16, 2008 06:57 pm

— YANTIS — The Stanley Ribbit frog landed a bit off target, but it didn't seem to matter very much. A bass bulged the surface at the edge of a nearby grass mat and left a defined wake in its path as it raced towards the gurgling, churning plastic toad.
I braced for an explosive strike that never came. For some reason the bass veered right just shy of the speeding lure. The surface boiled, then melted into a gentle ripple as a light southeasterly breeze swept across Lake Fork.
The rejection was more than I could take. I quickly retrieved the lure, then lofted another cast just beyond the sweet spot and put the frog in motion. That's when all hell broke loose in the shallows.
The violent explosion erupted more than a foot from the lure. A bass that looked to be all of 24-inches long went airborne parallel to the surface. With jaws agape, the big fish zeroed in on the frog and pounced on it head first.
The ensuing battle didn't last for long. The fish buried up in a patch of hydrilla so thick that it was unable to tear free against the steady pressure of the stiff fishing rod and heavy braided line.
I used a landing net to scoop up the huge ball of grass and quickly peeled back the weeds to the assess the size of the fish.
It was a big one, indeed. The bass registered 8 pounds, 2 ounces on a digital scale.
Wild tales like that those are pretty much the norm on lakes across Texas when it comes time for Kermit to start punching clock. That's because a frog is prone to bring out the bully in bass like no other can.
The fish rarely hold anything back when they wage war on a frog. In fact, the strike can at times be so violent that it can be heard from 100 yards away on a windless afternoon.
Longview bass pro Jim Tutt has witnessed the brutal assault hundreds of times, but the game never seems to get old no matter how many times he plays it. Of all the ways there are to catch bass, Tutt was fast to point out that frog fishing is his most favorite of all.
“I love it,” Tutt said as eased across a grassy flat at the upper end of Lake O' the Pines. “When the frog bite is on — I mean really on — there is nothing else like it. At times it can almost be like self defense out there.”
No argument, here. Like Tutt, I have become somewhat addicted to frog fishing in recent times. Lonny Stanley is the dealer who got me hooked.
Stanley is veteran lure maker from Huntington, Tx. A few years ago he sent me a plastic tackle box in the mail. The box was neatly packed with about three dozen soft plastic Ribbit Frogs in assorted colors, a supply of “specialty” frog hooks and a detailed note explaining what to do with them.
I don't remember Stanley's instructions by word, but summarizing is easy: Rig the frog on a heavy action rod with braided line. Put your game face on. Find slop. Launch a long cast. Reel the bait fast enough to buzz the frog across the surface. Hold on tight. And by all means, keep your cool when the explosion comes.
I took the frogs to nearby Lake Nacogdoches on a sunny June afternoon and followed Stanley's directions to the tee. In three hours I caught 10 bass up to six pounds and tangled with half dozen others that were thick enough to wear saddles.
Not surprisingly, I have been a frog fishing addict ever since.
Matt Williams is a free lance writer based Nacogdoches. He can be reached by e-mail at mattwilliams@netdot.com.

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