A fallback tactic might include plugging the mouths of creeks or the points inside them with crankbaits and even plastic worms.

But you don't have to hoist a 50-pound tackle box into your boat to make sure you have the perfect lure. If you're not prejudiced against live-baiting, then just head below Wheeler Dam. Here you'll discover why live baits are taboo in bass tournaments; it's because they catch "too many" fish, too easily.

THE TAILRACE
Jerry Crook of Gardendale once could've been called "Mr. Tailrace": No bigger fan of Wheeler's tailwaters could be found anywhere. Nowadays, however, his enthusiasm has waned because he can no longer guarantee those once-in-a-lifetime trips he once guided on these waters. That's not because the fish have moved. Part of the problem is because power generation is no longer as dependable.

"A lot has changed there over the years," Crook pointed out. "I believe the main reason it's so hard now is that the water schedule is so erratic. Plus, there's a ton of baitfish now. The fish do not have to look far for their next meal. I guess that's wonderful for the river, but it sure makes fishing tough."

Still, when mid-September arrives, Crook is back below Wheeler Dam. He believes the last two weeks of September and the first two in October are the absolute best times to be on the water there.

He never has been the typical bass fishing guide, at least not in Alabama. Instead of a 48-quart tackle box filled with $6 lures, he's content to carry only a box of hooks, a plastic margarine container full of lead weights and a 20-gallon tank of "yellowtails" -- the local name for threadfin shad.

Neither does Crook have a dozen rods strapped to a gleaming bass boat's flipping deck. When I last fished with him, he didn't even own a trolling motor. In fact, Crook prefers an 18-foot aluminum boat with a 60-horsepower outboard for guiding.

His choice of gear makes perfect sense. Having a fiberglass bass boat with a 200-horsepower outboard below Wheeler Dam would be a bit like bringing picante sauce made in New York City along on a cattle drive in the Southwest. Fishing this small piece of the Tennessee River with such a rig lets the local anglers know that you're not from around there.

"It's almost like a fraternity or a little club," Crook said, whose prowess and love for fishing there has gained him a membership. "There is no better boat for this kind of fishing."

Crook quit his job as a gasket-maker a decade ago to open up a full-time guide service. He specializes in fishing with live bait -- mostly threadfin shad he catches himself -- for both largemouth and smallmouth bass. He adores tussling with striped bass, too, but adds that they're few and far between these days.

Crook ties on a hook, ranging from a No. 4 to a 2/0 size, depending upon the length of the yellowtails he's hooking through the nose, Next he pinches on a homemade split-shot, and then makes a short cast. More often than not, he reels in a fish -- anywhere from 20 a day to 40 a day, or more.

His success was so well known, he had friends waiting in line for invitations to accompany him. Making the transition to a full-time fishing guide was a natural choice.

"I was already set up for it," he said. "I had the boat, the tackle, the know-how. I knew it was going to be tough, but I didn't do it to get rich."

He also fishes the Coosa River, mostly Neely Henry and Logan Martin lakes, but he says none can compare with the numbers of fish below Wheeler Dam in Wilson Lake.

"Now this is a dam -- 1 1/2 miles long, two locks, 60 floodgates and 11 turbines," he admired. "It makes all the rest look like science projects."

Crook said the time of day doesn't much matter, and the weather isn't that important in fishing below the dam. What does matter is if the Tennessee Valley Authority is generating power, regardless of the number of turbines running.

During the summer, TVA generally keeps the turbines churning for between seven and 12 hours a day, depending upon how much electricity is being generated above the dam on Wheeler Lake at Browns Ferry Nuclear Power Plant. It is the moving water that turns on the largemouths and Crook tosses his baits into that current.

When there is an absence of current or if the fish stop biting in the turbulent water, he starts drifting across mussel beds and underwater Indian mounds. These are places where he is more likely to catch smallmouths and catfish.

However, on any given day he is apt to catch drum, saltwater-strain stripers, hybrids and white bass -- all in addition to the largemouths that are his customers' primary targets.

"It's just the nature of the way we're fishing," he said. "You can catch anything that'll eat minnows."

The largemouths he catches average about 3 pounds apiece during the late summer and early fall -- small compared to other species, but still his favorite. And he releases every largemouth he catches.

Crook noted that the water nearest the mounds is usually about 15 feet deep. On top of the humps, it is only 7 feet deep.