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What if Lake Fork didn't exist? Take a trip through the past, present and future; the answers may well surprise you.
By Don Zaidle
Page 2
Fork's economic impact goes much
further than that. According to a recent Texas A&M University
study, in a Forkless world the state's economy would be $27 million
poorer. An estimated 325,000 anglers from literally all over the
world visit Fork each year.
No doubt the question on most angler's
minds in a no-Fork world would be: "What is the top
bass lake in the state?" To old bassing hands, the answer
comes as no surprise:
Sam Rayburn.
"Based on the numbers
and the habitat quality, it would be Rayburn," says TPWD
Inland Fisheries Director Phil Durocher. "In making an assessment
of a lake's trophy potential, the primary question is; 'What are
the chances of catching one 8 pounds or better?' Second to Fork,"
Durocher says, "that would be at Rayburn."
Big Sam's posting only four fish
on the No-Fork Top 50 list is no disqualifier for "premier
fishery" designation, according to Durocher. "There's
a lot more to assessing a fishery's trophy potential than the
number of entries on the Top 50," Durocher says. "An
awful lot of big fish are caught and released that we (TPWD) never
hear about. In fact, the ones we don't know about outnumber
the ones that get registered for record listings or ShareLunker
participation."
Speaking of ShareLunker (the program
formerly known as "Share a Lone Star Lunker" and later
"Share-A-Lunker"), program director Neal Ward independently
cited Rayburn as the Numero Uno understudy. He also has
some interesting things to say about Fork's importance to ShareLunker.
"Without Fork, we'd still
have the program, "Ward says. "But I do not think we'd
have the same level of angler participation due to lack of publicity,
and there wouldn't be as many fish in the program."
Since ShareLunker's 1986 inception,
283 largemouths weighing 13 or more pounds have been entered.
Of those fish, more than 180 came from Fork, including the first
fish ever entered in the program-Mark Stevenson's 17.67-pounder,
which at the time was a new state record.
"Without Fork, we'd be averaging
five to 10 fish per year instead of 15 to 25," Ward says.
"Like I said, we'd still have a program, but it would be
drastically changed. As Fork goes," he observes, "the
program goes."
Ward made another rather astonishing
observation, seconded by Durocher, that speaks volumes about Texas
bass fishing.
"In any lake of reasonable
size in the state, you can catch a 10-pounder. Obviously, you
stand a better chance on some lakes than others, but the fish
are out there. It is just a question of how hard you have to work
at it."
Official TPWD optimism notwithstanding,
it is conceivable, even probable, that the quality of Texas bassing
would not be at its current lofty levels without Lake Fork. Fork,
after all, is the archetype upon which reservoir-fisheries are
now modeled. From day one, Fork has served as a laboratory for
the study of fisheries management and the production of trophy-sized
bass. Without these and other contributions, bass management would
be way behind the current state of affairs.
So, is life worth living in a Fork-deprived
world? You bet. Sure, there would be some losses, but Texas would
still be a bass man's haven.
Gains? Improbably, yes. Part of
the big bass mystique would be restored, the sense of mystery
and adventure rejuvenated in the minds of lunker-questing anglers.
Big bass would be bigger news, rarer, and 10-pounders would once
again turn heads and make headlines.
One question our research did not
answer is still bothering me, though.
When an angler catches and releases
a trophy bass, does an angel get his wings?
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