TULSA, Okla. — Rick Clunn remembers a defining moment with his two daughters. A dead turtle on a trotline sticks in the mind of Paul Elias. Hank Parker remembers erasing a bad memory. Guido Hibdon hooked the winning fish twice.
All the above mind snippets are recollections of winning moments from their respective Bassmaster Classic wins. You’ve read about their tactics and lures in Bassmaster, B.A.S.S. Times and Bassmaster.com.
The spontaneous question about describing a Classic winning moment produced the following answers from the champions on hand for the Bassmaster Classic Expo.
Turtle on a string
Paul Elias begins the retro rewind with this tale from his 1982 win on the Alabama River.
Bo Dowden, the 1980 champion, shared water on the narrow river with Elias. The two contenders for the title that year established an odd way of defining their respective fishing boundaries.
The story begins with a trotline tied to a tree on the riverbank.
“We agreed that neither of us would cross that line for the entire week,” recalled Elias.
Dowden fished along the shoreline while Elias fished a steep ledge on the main river channel. Somewhere between the bank and his boat was an offshore brushpile attracting the winning catches.
To make the pattern work he needed a shoreline reference point to line up his casts. He laughs when revealing the secret casting target.
“There was a dead turtle hanging on a trotline tied to a tree on the shoreline,” recalled Elias. “I used it to line up my casts.”
Casting toward the turtle lined the bait up perfectly with the brushpile when Elias grinded the bait along the bottom.
Several years ago the Bassmaster Elite Series made a stop on the same Alabama River. Elias’ first stop during practice was the nostalgic stop. Any evidence of the trotline was long gone.
“I never could line up with the spot because I couldn’t find the tree since it had grown so tall,” he mused.
Twice hooked
Guido Hibdon recalls hooking a 4-pound largemouth on Day 1 that he never got to the boat. The impact of the strike quite literally broke apart his spinnerbait, including the wire arm and lead head.
“I thought right then I’d be out of contention,” he recalled. “It just really got me down because you just can’t loose a fish like that in the Classic.”
Hibdon, in contention to win on Day 3, recalled his bad luck to press angler Wade Bourne.
“He told me all I needed to do was go back to that same spot, catch that 4-pounder and the Classic would be mine,” recalled Hibdon.
With nothing to lose the two sped down river to the spot with little fishing time remaining. Hibdon made a cast to the same submerged log and caught a bass. He won the Classic by 6 ounces over local favorite Woo Daves.
That winning bass had a defining tear mark in its jaw from breaking off the spinnerbait and a small black spot on its back. So did the one he lost on Day 1, leaving no doubt both bass were the same fish.
“I knew it was the same fish by its distinct markings,” said Hibdon.
Erasing bad memories
Hank Parker won the 1989 Classic, his second title since 1979, by fighting back the demons in his mind.
“I made a bad decision the previous year at the Classic that haunted me all year,” recalled Parker. “I second-guessed a decision to gamble and leave behind a potentially productive area.”
The move haunted him because the Classic was held on the James River both years. To this day Parker believes he would have won the 1988 title had he stayed on the spot.
“The next year I did my best to not over analyze my decisions and just go with my instinct,” he admitted.
Relaxing his mind and thinking in the moment allowed him to stay more focused. That was a good idea. Parker won the Classic by 2 ounces.
That year the black cloud found runner-up Jim Bitter. He lost the Classic after the winning fish slipped from his hands.
Get a real job, dad
Rick Clunn should have many poignant memories after winning an unprecedented four Classic titles, two of those back to back in 1976-77. The memory stirring the greatest memory is his 1990 win on the James River.
The memory had nothing at all to do with a lure or tactics. Clunn’s teenage daughters Brooke and Courtney were on hand for the event and witnessed the dramatic come-from-behind victory.
“By then I think they had matured enough to understand that I had a real job,” he disclosed. “Until then they had no way of mentally framing my job identity.”
As a pro he disappeared for weeks at a time. The young girls grew accustomed to visiting girlfriends and seeing their dads return home each evening after work. Clunn became concerned after repeatedly getting the cold shoulder from Courtney after returning from a particularly long road trip. At the time the youngest Clunn was only about 8 years old.
“She asked me when I was going to leave home and go to a store or an office and then come back home that evening,” he said. “It really bothered me at the time.”
Brooke and Courtney watched the drama unfold from their seats on the top row of the Richmond Coliseum. They were faces in the crowd until it became obvious Clunn had just won his fourth title.
The girls, by then ages 15 and 13, were escorted to the stage to witness the moment.
“I relish that moment because they were there to witness my Classic win,” recalled Clunn. “From then on they had a great appreciation for what I did and it meant a lot to me.”