The truck is loaded down, the boat is gassed up, and I’m chomping at the bit to pull out of the drive. This week, I’m headed to Cherokee Lake in Tennessee to compete in the B.A.S.S. Nation Regional event. The top 10% will move on to the B.A.S.S. Nation National Championship, where the top three finishers will punch their ticket to the 2027 Bassmaster Classic. I aim to do just that, and then win it all.
This has been a goal of mine for the last few years — to win the Classic by way of the B.A.S.S. Nation. If I needed any added inspiration, I just got it in the form of 2026 Classic champion Dylan Nutt, who walked this same path all the way to the top of the mountain.
As fired up as I am, the current landscape of competitive bass fishing along with the particular fishery I’m headed to definitely dampen my confidence. I’m still learning the live sonar deal, and I’m lightyears behind the young guns like Nutt with it. Add to that, I’ll be competing on a deep, clear smallmouth fishery, and my strong suit lies in shallow muddy water chasing largemouth. Just judging by the map study, it doesn’t look like there’s any mud up the river or creeks, no matter how far I run.
So, this will be a true test for me when it comes to versatility. Looking at online resources of past events held there, I’ve seen where these bass are willing to bite big baits, so I’m hoping a casting jig and a Berkley Cull Shad will work well for me. I like those two ways of fishing for sure, and I’d be glad to grind out three ‘five-bites-a-day’ bags if I can catch good ones doing it and advance to the National Championship.
But, there’s a good chance I’ll need to be a little more well-rounded here. I’ve got eight spinning rods rigged up to take with me and a broad assortment of little baits to put on them. Drop shots, Damiki rigs, jighead minnows and Ned rigs — I’ve got them all. I don’t really know a ton about how to use them to catch big fish, but I’ve got them. And it’ll likely come down to the phase the bass are in as to whether or not I’ll have to fool with them.
Here, where I live in central Alabama, the bass have been spawning between cold snaps for over a month. The first few nights at Cherokee will flirt with the 40-degree mark. So, I’m thinking the bass will still be in the immediate prespawn phase — up nosing around a little shallower and not all suspended chasing around bait. These are all assumptions, though, as I’ve never even seen the lake in person and haven’t talked to a soul that’s ever fished there.
But, truly, that’s the way I like it. I remember when I used to fish the Opens and other semipro events. I loved going into a tournament blind and then having to figure out a whole new fishery on the fly. I was confident — borderline cocky — and relished the opportunity. Now, nearing 40 and having been out of the regional and national game for nearly a decade, that cockiness has definitely been worked out of me. But, I do want to build up some confidence again, qualify here and keep that momentum rolling to Lake Hartwell in the fall, and in the spring, since both the National Championship and the Classic will be held on that same fishery.
Winning the Classic is a massive goal and a tiny target to shoot at. But I am confident, at least, that this is what I’m supposed to be doing. I believe God has me on this path, and if it really is His will for me to win it all, nothing can stop me from doing just that. But, as much as the trophy and the money and the respect would be something to savor, my real goal in all this is to share the Gospel — the good news that Jesus Christ saved me, and He can save each of you.
A few years ago, I was in a really dark place. I didn’t care if I lived; I was done. But God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. As the words of Psalm 40 read, “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord, and put their trust in Him.”
This is what I want to tell the world. And — in my world — there’s no bigger stage to do it on than the Classic. So, that’s what has me confident enough to go give it a try. I’ll do my part and trust Him to do His. God’s got a track record of making fish do some pretty wild things — filling empty nets, spitting up coins and swallowing whole men. If He wants a few bass to bite my bait that I have no business otherwise knowing how to catch, He can. And I’m praying He will. Not for my glory, but for his. We’ll see how it all shakes out.
