Vintage Glass on Bass
7/19/25
I wanted to kayak and fish for smallmouth in the river. I decided to put together my 6 weight fiberglass Wonderod. I wasn’t sure how old it is but I’m pretty sure it’ll be in the vintage category. The cork handle is pockmarked from years of use and felt like the cork was dried out but not to the point of crumbling in my hand. The windings are still in good condition though the marking are pretty much worn but I’m still able to see the Wonderod, weight description and length of 8’ 6” on the butt section. When I was putting the two section together I noticed the ferrules weren’t very tight. I got out my duct tape and taped them together. Hey, like a well used vintage piece of equipment., sometimes a little fixer up makes it more useful. I lined the rod with WF6F line being I planned to use surface poppers. I noticed right off how much heavier it is than my graphite 6 weights I’ve been using. I brought a graphite fly rod anyhow in case I started aching from the weight of casting the glass rod. I don’t know how those old guys could fish with these old heavy fly rods all day?
I launched in a flat section of water and planned paddling up river until I felt I was far enough upriver to fish my way back down to the launch. I got out a little later than I wanted to so the sun was pretty full figured up above shining down on the river, boulders and green trees that lined the water like a big ole’ flood lamp in the sky. The water was pretty much gin clear so I figured the fish should be able to see my poppers for some distance which means I’ll be casting as far as I can with the glass rod.
After missing a gulp early I was able to nab one in a back eddy near the bank. He came up as I was stripping the popper towards me. Instead of coming up underneath he grabbed the popper from the side. I whipped the rod back in a hurry and tagged him. He wasn’t all that big but he put up a good fight flexing the glass rod as I got him to me. The popper was stuck to the side of his mouth, like a lip piercing, and could have came out any time bringing him in
I was about 75 yards from my exit point. I was still concentrating casting along the banks most of the time but every once in a while I’d throw out towards the open water. I was dropping my anchor and then casting. When I covered the area well enough I’d pick up the anchor enough to clear bottom and let the kayak drift some before dropping the anchor again.
There was about a 12” diameter branched tree log that Y’d upon the bottom of the riverbed out from the bank. The log was pretty deep but with the sun shining down like a spot light I was able to see it below. I wasn’t sure how deep the water was between the log and the bank. I know if I cast out towards the bank it was a risky situation if I caught a decent size smallie to get it from going underneath the log. I was anchored and decided to try it anyhow.
My first cast was on the other side of the sunken log but not quite near the bank. I gurgled it my way without a strike and was ready for my next cast. I whipped the rod backward and pulled line for my forward cast. I felt every movement of the heavy flexing glass rod while I casted. My popper fell near the bank and I started to gurgle it my way. A fish exploded up out of the water from beneath my popper like Old Faithful from the earth surface. I waited till he took it under, waited a little more and yanked the glass rod backward with authority. (I learned, because of the soft action of a glass rod, I have to really pull the rod back hard to set a hook on a bass). I felt the glass rod bow when the line tightened. The surface water was left in a big swirl as the smallmouth took off downriver apiece away from the log. I held the old cork handle gripped tightly as the smallmouth pulled and tugged the line. I had a good hold on the fly line with lots of tension when the smallie decided to turn upriver heading for the far side of the sunken log. I took in line quickly and lifted the rod as high as I could to keep him from going under the log. He fought just below the surface but evidently the arcing of the glass rod was enough to keep him from going under. Before I was able to get him over the second branch he had enough strength to swim down river some between the log branches. He splashed on the surface and then tried to go deep enough to swim back under the second branch. The glass rod bowed deeper as I struggled to keep it as high as possible. He disappeared beneath and I thought he got under the logs as I couldn’t feel him fighting much anymore. I whipped the rod down stream hoping to guide him that way, out between the open branches. I knew if I tried to bring him towards me he would have a better chance of getting stuck under one of the logs. I believe that move saved the battle in my favor. The smallie turned down stream and I got him cleared of the logs. I gave him some line hoping he would keep going away from the sunken log but Nooo’. He decided to turn and was determined to get under the logs again like a groundhog ditching back in his hole. I brought in line and kept the fly line tight between my fingers as I lifted the rod high and back. I watched as he cleared the top of the log and I had him coming my way. Having enough line in, to get him to the kayak, I reached for my net. I had him just beside the kayak and he splashed water about like a beavers tail in disgust. I reached down and scooped him up. The popper was embedded in his tongue. After a picture it didn’t take any time at all to unhook the popper from his mouth with my hemostats. He swam away in a hurry like a scared young kid leaving a spooky carnival haunted house!
At the launch area I took my time emptying my kayak before dragging it up the path to the parking lot. The afternoon sun was throwing down heat like a blast furnace in a steel mill. My button down shirt was soaked with sweat and my palm leaf hat felt like it was a matted permanent fixture on my head. I couldn’t wait to get in the truck and turn on the A/C.
Well, what a way to end my fishing with the vintage rod than to smoke an RP 1990 Vintage cigar on the drive home!
~doubletaper
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