The Sooner State's fishery has had a tough year; not much rain has fallen and the bout with LMBV has all but decimated the state's oldest and probably the best self-sustaining reservoir, Grand Lake. But Grand wasn't the only lake affected.

If I can't fish Grand, either during a tournament or just for fun, my second choice would have to be Hudson - the second lake in the chain of Grand, Hudson and Ft. Gibson. The lake has all the offerings I prefer when chasing bass weed beds, laydown logs, docks, creeks and the main river channel, and probably the most important thing of all, BIG bass! But it too, was caught off guard and succumbed to the LMBV onslaught. But it is returning.

Our club, the Bartlesville Bassmasters, fishes Hudson once a year. Out of the last four years, I have either won the tournament or come close and last year I was fortunate enough to win with a five-fish limit weighing 17-13 including big bass at 6-9.

Even more amazing was the fact that those five fish came from one small area and in the span of 20 minutes!

Many of our club members have had on and lost, bass they swear would weigh over 10 pounds. And one member recently related his story of the "one that got away" that would have gone at least that much. His partner caught one that same day that went over 9 - and this guy was a guest and only fished about once a year!

So you see, Hudson can produce some quality fish, and it's not just to the anglers that are experienced.

Our club had a tournament there September 23 and as usual, I spent the previous two or three weekends pre-fishing. The first weekend I was there was not as productive as in years past. But I knew if I stuck with it, the fish would show me a sign of some kind and I could develop a pattern for tournament day.

It never happened.

The next weekend, the Sunday prior to the tourney, I spent the day pre-fishing in the river, up lake. It was like night and day! The fish were shallow (the lake was two-and-a-half-feet high), and were relating to anything made of wood. I caught and released eight keepers that day, my best five weighing over 20 pounds.

"Yes!" I thought to myself. "If only the GRDA will keep the lake level constant and it doesn't rain too much, I can chalk up another win!"

Guess what? The next weekend, the GRDA had lowered the lake by 1.5 feet and a front was to move through on tournament day - with cold temps and a 30 mph north wind.

During the tournament, my fish were nowhere to be found. My shallow bite had all but evaporated - except for small non-keepers. My partner had heard of some guys doing well way up the river. So, off we went.

Thirty minutes later, two small 15 and 16-inch bass were swimming in my medicated livewell - my partner blanking.

As the day wore on we tried several other similar spots, all to no avail.

In desperation, and with only an hour left in the tourney, we headed to my former honey hole, arriving with only twenty minutes left in which to fish. It turned out to be the right move.

My partner was lamenting about how bad it was that he had blanked today and was really feeling in the dumps. Even though I had tried to put him on fish, his method or tactics just wouldn't pan out.

Feeling sorry for him, but still needing to finish out a limit, I suggested we approach a small patch of scraggily brush, between two docks. Surely he could pull a keeper from its small branches in two feet of water.

The front had passed about two hours before and I figured the bite would be even tougher. I had switched baits to a 12-inch ribbon-tailed worm in tequila sunrise - one that had paid off in past trips, he, a small Bulldog spinnerbait in white/silver blades with a chartreuse trailer.

As I said, the front had passed and the wind had picked up to at least 25 mph and was blowing right down the shoreline where the brush pile was located about two feet off the bank. His light bait sailed to the bank behind the pile, while his line became entangled in the small brushy limbs protruding from the water.

"&%#!@%^&!!!" he yelled as he retrieved the bait to the limb on which his line had hung.

As I looked to see what his problem was, a giant head came out of the water at the brush pile, inhaling the limb, bait and a foot of line in one explosive gulp! I turned to see if he had hooked up and sure enough, there he sat, a huge grimace on his face, as he cranked for all he was worth to head the fish away from the brush and towards the now-waiting net.

I guessed the fish at six-and-a-half as I dropped the net in the bottom of the boat, cursing under my breath as I returned to the trolling motor.

We quit ten minutes later to make the 15-mile run back to the launch site. Me with two fish; he with one.

The scales pulled to 4-4 on my two giants; his to 6-7. Only a couple of other fellows had found more than one fish, but theirs were just a bit larger than mine.

My partner had front-ended me from the back of the boat!! And to make matters worse, he won the tourney with one fish!! And big bass as well!!

But Hudson can be great. Even for a fishery that is returning from LMBV, the club members caught several nice fish that day. Just not a great number of fish.

Try Hudson when you need a break. You may hit it as I did that previous Sunday and catch some whoppers. Or then again, you might end up with a livewell full of dinks!