A WELL-TUNED GLIDE BAIT FLIRTS WITH FISH LIKE A SIREN, DARING THEM TO STRIKE.
You can’t take your eyes off the sway and shimmy — so subtle, delicate, lifelike and tantalizing — nor should you. I broke my gaze when a sharp pop rang out to my left. By the time I shifted my eyes, the fish was gone. All that remained was a soft, dissipating swirl and Keith Thomas’ glide bait hovering perfectly still just below the surface.
The 10-inch lure mimicked an adult gizzard shad, all white save for its large, red eyes and sparse blood spatter effect across its back. Thomas dropped his shoulders and cocked his chin to the sky. “That was a good one,” he bellowed through clenched teeth. “Dammit! That bass was at least 7 pounds.” Thomas may have been upset, but I was astonished. The prespawn female didn’t so much as graze the bait with the skin of her lip, but the miss proved the potency of a glide bait.
Lake Nockamixon in eastern Pennsylvania is right in Thomas’ backyard. It is heavily pressured and notoriously fickle — a hero-or-zero fishery, and today everyone seemed to be a zero. Muskie trollers within eyeshot never reached for a net. Crappie anglers moved constantly, searching for a willing school. A few bass
