With all the relatively new inland lakes in our state, bass anglers have turned to the west for a lot of their largemouth bass fishing. It didn't used to be that way.

Even though our tidal streams aren't the most favorable for largemouth bass in terms of reproduction and growth, these were the waters that were available to a lot of us for years.

Being an avid fan of Field and Stream magazine and wanting to catch some of these noted sport fish, we kids had to make do with whatever access to the bass we had, and this often meant fishing in estuarine brackish water. We picked up an occasional bass, but most of our efforts at fishing were directed at such fish as croakers, spots, trout, puppy drum and bluefish.

My father wasn't exactly as into fishing as I was and noted my sometime futile efforts at catching largemouth bass. We had an old wooden skiff and a small outboard motor and I had a young collection of dime-store fishing lures. An old metal casting rod outfitted with a direct drive-casting reel was handed down to me by one of the family friends who lived up in Raleigh. Of course the reel was loaded with 25-pound test braided-nylon line, which attached directly to whatever plug I could put my hands on that day. No leaders were used.

This was the same rod and reel that took the first fish I'd ever caught on an artificial lure. I was probably about nine years old and was fishing in the little creek that was behind my aunt's house in Washington Park. Using a little wooden darter-type plug, something threw a wake as it left the thick growth of moss on the water and smashed the lure just like the way the experts had described a strike. I cranked on the little reel as hard as I could and soon had what cousin Jimmy Hill described as a "Jack Pike" flopping around on the grass. There was no turning back. I was hooked on fishing with a rod, reel and artificial lures.

My interest in catching some of those bass like A.J. McClain wrote about in Field and Stream magazine was pretty evident to my father so he asked the local bass expert if he'd mind taking me out in our boat one day to show me how it was done.

"Uncle Mike" Thigpen lived just outside Aurora and was considered to be the local expert on fishing no matter what kind of fish you were after. He felt that we would have no problem catching a few "chubs" as he described the bass we were out to catch.

Uncle Mike's choice of creeks to take me to was the twin creeks of Jacobs and Drinkwater off the main creek of South Creek. These were the days before Texas Gulf Sulfur came to the Aurora area and facilities such as the barge loading slip were not there. (Jacobs Creek does not exist anymore, but Drinkwater Creek is still there.)

Uncle Mike's tackle box probably contained a dozen or so lures that each seemed to have some sort of history to go with it. The various fishermen from upstate that had engaged Uncle Mike's services over the years would usually leave a few of their favorite lures with him as a keepsake for their successes, and Mike had looked after the lures well.

I later learned that he'd rinse the lures and all his gear off after every trip into these marginally salty waters, and the gear showed the respect that had been shown to it.

Likewise, his rod and reel was a wonder to me. The reel had a side adjustment that used a ruby jewel as a bearing, and its side panels were engraved with fishing scenes. If my memory's correct it was a Shakespeare as was the pistol-gripped fiberglass rod. Old tackle collectors would kill to get their hands on one of these old items these days.

His first choice of lures when casting into these grass-choked creeks was a lure that's still well known today. The Johnson Silver Minnow (with a three-inch, white, pork rind trailer) would work well through the weeds without hanging up and was effective on about any fish to be found there. The occasional puppy drum, jack pike, large yellow perch and speckled trout liked that lure nearly as well as the largemouth bass did.

After landing a few chubs on the spoon Mike told me, "Now it's time to have some fun. Let's put on a top water plug and watch these chubs eat 'em."

Explaining how the chubs would patrol the edges of the waterweeds looking for baitfish, Mike tied on a plug he referred to as a "Zargosa." It was a wooden lure painted remotely like a frog. It was roughly shaped like a cigar and had nothing attached to it to give the lure some wiggle. To me anyway, it looked like no self-respecting fish would bite on it.

Casting the Heddon Zaragossa roughly parallel to the line of weeds Mike Thigpen retrieved it with short jerks on the line. The lure seemed to dance across the water as if it were a wounded minnow. Mike was right. The chubs figured it was an easy meal and smashed into it with their mouths open.

Anytime a decent largemouth bass smashes into a top water lure, it's an impressive sight but to my young eyes it seemed like a small bomb went off in the water where the lure was. I was quickly becoming even more fascinated with the sport of fishing.

I made several trips with Uncle Mike, and we usually took enough bass home for what we wanted to eat.

I don't recall any size or creel limits then, but smaller bass were returned to the water alive and Mike insisted that we only take what we could keep alive until we got back to the landing in Aurora. We didn't have an icebox, and the fish that we intended to keep were placed on a stringer and kept alive in the water alongside the boat.

Things have changed a lot in this day and time. Thanks to Ray Scott and Forrest Wood the new breed of bass angler usually has a specially-designed, high speed fishing boat. It usually contains enough fancy fishing gear that would have supplied the old Kugler-Nicholson sporting goods store well.

With the popularity of bass fishing the pressure on the resource increased dramatically. Catch and release is the rule rather than the exception among bass fishermen now and, frankly, I think the bass have learned every lure in the book by sight and sound.

The inland lakes of our state have become pounded to death every weekend and bass anglers are again turning to the coastal rivers and sounds trying to find some bass that don't have their jaws scarred with hook marks.

With the economy gone South more and more anglers are returning to the basics and fishing the old, simpler ways. Decent tackle may have marks on it that identify it as having originated in China, but with proper care it can last a long time.

A few simple cane (or fiberglass) poles can put fish on the table and there are lots of good spots to sit on a bank and drown worms these days.