Lake Poway

July 27 2007, Lake Poway – north of San Diego

(At this lake I meet a gentle, two-decade Marine Corps helicopter pilot whose favorite activity is fishing – with his family. He was the one who prepared the cut fruit for the day’s snacks – and who cooks omelets every Saturday.)
It’s hot and sunny and breezeless and my boat rests on Lake Poway’s surface which is as flat as a puddle of purple paint. This small lima-shaped lake, less than a shout from one end to the other, is cradled among hilly canyons.
On the shore in front of me rest a half-dozen buzzards – one frozen in a wide-open wingspread worthy of a cactus pinnacle. High above, along one of the canyon paths, runs a woman trailing three feet of bright blonde mane. And deep below me – maybe over 100 feet deep – swims what Poway’s proprietor says is the world-record bass. My lures – everything I can think of – go fishless all morning.
I meet four other first-time-Poway anglers: the Beldings – Mike and Lisa and their children W.D. (10) and Jessie (9). They moved here from Virginia just two weeks ago: “Fishing was the first thing we thought of when we got here.”
Mike is a 22-year helicopter pilot in the Marine Corps – the Nam-era “phrog” used for troop and cargo transport. Lots of them in Iraq right now. Mike’s Corps experience spans 23 countries and 6 deployments of a half- year or longer. He expects to be deployed again.
Mike grew up in Pennsylvania fishing with his dad and grandfather. In college he and buddies did trout trips to Colorado. Lisa grew up fishing in the North Carolina coast. Their children W.D. and Jessie – military kids – are growing up in lots of cities, but always finding a place to fish. Last weekend they went out on a head boat for sea bass and yellowtail. Catching fish on today’s outing at Lake Poway is more of a challenge. “We like it even if we don’t catch anything,” smiles Jessie.
And I meet the other end of the angling spectrum: Matt McMahon and Jim Cavanaugh III, both 18 and both claiming to be 17-year bassing veterans of Poway. They have 7 rigged bass rods in their boat and they will have caught 3 bass by mid-afternoon, all on dropshot rigs, and all about a pound and a half.
“There’s a 25-pounder in here, “ says Jim with no expression. “I’ve hung 15-pounders and I’ve seen bigger. You’ll see a huge shadow swim beneath your boat . . .” He doesn’t complete the sentence.
Matt and Jim are among the 6 or 7 bassing regulars that fish this lake. The lake’s proprietor tells me that on a hot and sunny July day a “regular” may catch 3 bass. He says the regulars say that if you can catch bass in Poway you can catch bass anywhere.
Matt and Jim are obviously in the full-tilt bass zone – confirmed by the fact that they arrived early this morning and will stay until 11:30 tonight.
You need to understand that this lake is so small that every square inch of it has been continually pounded by bass lure after bass lure after bass lure. And whenever you do see a spot that looks like a likely bass hangout, you have to know that every other bass angler before you has said the same.
For example, there is only one fallen tree along the shorelines of Poway – only one on the whole lake. It is THE bassiest looking spot on the lake. I of course throw my lures to it, and of course they are ignored by whatever bass are in the tree.
“I like casting,” responds Jessie to my question about why she likes to fish.
Then I ask the kids to tell me something about themselves. Jessie says she loves sports and competition. W.D., with a confident grin, says, “I’m the brains of the family. I keep the whole operation going.” Nobody argues. But Lisa raises her eyebrows and waits for more. I ask W.D. for an example – just one example – of how he “keeps the whole operation going.” And he comes through: he was the one who put together the family’s game plan for their visit to Sea World.
Back in my boat after lunch, and without much bass confidence remaining, it is now 1:30 p.m. and the sun is hotter. The only shade on the lake is beneath the string of log-shaped buoys that block off the area near the dam. They stretch across a deep area of the lake. Earlier today I threw plastic worms at them with no response.
I decide to now do something radical and slow. I tie on a #8 hook with no weight and hook a 6-inch worm through the middle. I drop the hooked worm in the water and count; it takes a full 6 seconds for it to sink 12 inches.
I take my boat to within a long cast of the buoys and start casting – one by one as I proceed across the lake. A VERY slow process – letting each cast sink for 60 seconds.
But it works. In the next hour I catch 2 bass this way – each about 2 ½ pounds. Now, according to Poway wisdom, I can catch bass anywhere.
I ask the Beldings if they care to offer any words to live by.
“Play hard, eat fresh,” Jessie lifts as she says it. Lisa reminds her that that’s a Subway commercial.
W.D. of course offers this: “Work should be as close to prison as you ever come.” Lisa and Mike shake their heads.
Mike: “Just be nice to everybody.” Lisa: Family first.”
And I learn that August 22 will be an important day: W.D.’s 11th birthday as well as his and Jessie’s first day back in school.