Fields of southern grass

Fujifilm pro Joel Richardson verifies that crankbaits and grass aren’t solely a northern phenomenon

In the world of turf and sod, there are “cool-weather grasses” and “warm-weather grasses.” Bent grass and fescue, for instance, are earmarked for the North, while Bermuda and centipede grasses flourish down yonder.

Joel Richardson, a successful FLW Outdoors basser and Kernersville, N.C., dweller, is intimately familiar with the warm-weather varieties, but those of the aquatic kind. “We call it grass, too,” said Richardson, corroborating Bonnema’s dissertation of bass on grass. “It fishes the same, but some of the types we fish are different. We have coontail, too, but hydrilla is more common, and it sprouts earlier. Elodea is another grass that bass use quite a bit.” Elodea has an appearance and cover quality similar to cabbage.

The early spring/prespawn period in Richardson’s realm is accompanied by water temperatures in the mid 40s to low 50s, so it’s still cool, and things are just getting under way. “I look for grass that’s just emerging,” Richardson said. “It might be only a couple of inches tall, but that’s all it takes.”

Richardson spies for fresh greens in very explicit places. “I fish main-lake points on the north side of the lake,” he said. “It’s all about points.”

He, like Bonnema, begins the crusade of cranks on the outer weedline. In Richardson’s case, that means 10- to 14-foot-deep weed edges that are contiguous to a main-lake point. “The first thing I do is graph the point thoroughly, scanning for new growth and pinpointing the outside edge,” Richardson said. He does so with a Lowrance LMS-240 because of its ability to mark even stubbly foliage.

“What I’m really looking for is the tip of the grass point,” Richardson said. Oftentimes, his grassy tip is really a bar or finger projecting from the weed edge rather than a physical, visible point. But regardless, once Richardson finds a grassy haven, he whips out a marker.

With a buoy on the surface and fire in his eyes, Richardson commences bombing. The Poe’s 300 (12-foot maximum depth) and Bill Norman Deep Diver 14 (14-foot maximum depth) are his essential baits. Like Bonnema, Richardson likes seeing mostly red in the crankbait’s coat.

He casts and pulls the bait just above grass, touching the canopy on occasion. The retrieve is slow and steady. If and when the lure does slam into the grass, Richardson throttles back and affords the crankbait an opportunity to float free. Sometimes, bushwhacks come when the bait is in repose.

The changeover from deep to shallow ensues when water temperatures bounce into the mid 50s to low 60s. While Bonnema probes the body of the flat, questing for upgraded weeds and the occasional hunk of wood, Richardson fires straight for shore.

He manipulates the gap between the shore and where the grass starts, concentrating on depths of 5 to 7 feet, and he really likes areas where red clay morphs into gravel. Such transition zones typically yield irregularities in the grass, and bass gravitate toward openings that are encased by lush vegetation.

In the warmer shallows, Richardson takes it up a notch, too. He dumps the billed crankbaits in favor of lipless torpedoes like the Rattlin’ Rapala, namely the No. 7 Redfire Crawdad.

The rate of retrieval is medium to fast on a cord of 12- to 14-pound Stren Super Tough. If big ol’ gizzard shad are in the midst, which they often are in the spring, Richardson bumps up to 20-pound mono – for buoyancy’s sake – and the portly No. 8 Rattlin’ Rapala.

Richardson’s rod and reel is a precision tool, as is the way he handles snags. “I throw with a 7-foot Shimano V-Rod on a Shimano Calcutta Reel,” he said. “The rod is graphite, but it acts like glass, giving a little bit and not ripping. When I do get hung up, I keep reeling and let the rod tip load up until the bait breaks free on its own. That’s an important little trick for cranking in the grass.”