There was the usual picture taking and a modest amount of hand shaking, but the celebration may have surprised some. We were pretty sure that we would break a record this day. That's why we had come. I knew my friend, Chris Shafer - who guides trips down the stretch of the Brazos River we were fishing - would put us on fish. He knew where two nice smallmouths had been hanging out, he had a bunch of largemouths located and there were a lot of spotted bass in the river.

And as of that day, according to the Texas Parks & Wildlife Web page, there were no records on the Brazos River for largemouth, smallmouth or spotted bass on a fly rod. The added bonus was that there was no state record for spotted bass on a fly rod either.

It was a look at that Web page that prompted this piece. I noticed how many bodies of water had no records on the fly rod, or very breakable ones. A guy who really wants to catch a record can.
So the Brazos it was.

The May morning was gloomy. Clouds hung low and the smell of rain was in the air. John Nix, publisher of this magazine, was along as photographer. We were only a short distance down the river when the rain started. The weatherman had promised a wet day, but as we approached the area the smallies had been hanging out, the rain had let up.

We could see the river record feeding on the surface in the distance.

"ThatÃs one of those smallmouths," Chris declared.

It was ripping the surface as it chased bait in one of the many beautiful spots on the river. A rock wall, stained with its history, lined the bank. Tap-clear water barely covered a dozen boulders. The largest climbed 10 feet above the water's surface, an island guarding the others.

It was several casts before the fish took the deer-hair popper. The smallmouth weighed 2.56 pounds. Not a monster by any standard, but a river record nonetheless.

I knew John was chomping at the bit. He was finding the river as charming as I had described. For eight and a half miles, the clear water runs between steep, live oak-lined banks and vertical rock walls. The angler is treated to solitude and great fishing. The clear, shallow water offers a unique visual experience. Deer and turkey sightings are common. We had heard the toms, gobbling their serenades of romance, earlier that morning.

I handed the rod to John and instructed him to catch a river-record largemouth. It wasn't long before he did. The 15-inch bass took his fly and reigned in the live well for about an hour.

John knew he would catch a bigger bass and kept fishing, but after a while he handed me the rod so he could get a drink and rest his arm for a minute.

I tossed the bait beyond a boulder that hovered just beneath the surface on a small point. The third pop left the deer-hair popper resting just above the outer edge of the rock. Again, the fish barely broke the surface as it sucked the fly under. The water clarity allowed us to see we had a nice fish on. After a feisty battle, the 3.11-pound largemouth replaced the 15-incher in the well.

Two records. Though this deal was pretty much a no-brainer, it was still a cool thought.

John's arm became well rested during my wrestle with the fish. He took the rod, and preceded to catch several fish. The largemouths were eagerly taking his offering, but none were bigger than the fish in the well.

"There it is!" Chris finally announced as John reared back on the rod.

The fish ran toward the middle of the river from the log from where it had ambushed the bait. It punctuated the sprint with a leap. The body of a fish that would have gone at least five pounds was completely out of the water when it spit the fly back at us in a mocking motion. John swung his arm as if to throw the rod at the fish, but he held on. He was facing away from me, and it was difficult to hear, but I think he said, "Ah heck!"

But Chris reminded us that the day was early, and there were plenty of good spots past where we would eat lunch.

We sat beneath a huge sycamore tree eating cold fried chicken as we contemplated catching a "grand slam." A legal-size spotted bass would give us three river records and two state records. Our conversation had a lofty surrealism to it -- if we set that record, or this record. œThree down, two to go.”

As we preceded down the river, the sun began to leak through the clouds. It wasnÃt long until John caught another largemouth. As the gloomy morning turned into a bright afternoon, fishing picked up. John landed several fish but no spots.

I knew that topping one of the fish currently in the well would suit John just fine. But as we pulled up to the last of Chrisà good spots, my two records stood.

"TheyÃre in there," Chris announced as he maneuvered the boat so that John could cast.

"Good," Chris offered as the fly lighted inside of a sunken trees trunk that paralleled the shore.

The fish took the bait immediately. The swell revealed a large fish. John pulled back on the rod in an attempt to pull the fish over the log, but managed to only get it halfway over, and the hook pulled loose. The largemouth's back had come out of the water enough to convince Chris the fish weighed at least six pounds.
There were several "Ah hecks!" as we moved on. The day was over, but we had done what we had come to do.

******

So, you want to catch a record? Then go for it.

A critical first step is to identify a record you think you can set, or break. Those two words must be used here. A surf into TPWÃs Web page will show that indeed, on some lakes and rivers, there are no existing records.

As a fly fisherman, I was happy to see there were plenty of new fly rod records to set and those that could be easily broken. It is going to be hard to move on to another story after this. So many records to break, so little time.

While you have the Web site up, download the rules and the application.

Your fish must be weighed on certified scales to qualify. It is a good idea to locate a place to weigh your fish before you go out. Around the larger lakes, one of the tackle or convenience stores will have them. Feed stores and fertilizer plants are other possibilities. The local game warden can tell you. You have three days to weigh the fish to stay within the rules, but itÃs best to have a place scoped out so you can weigh the fish and return it to the water.

When you land your fish, be sure to have your camera onboard. Takes several pictures of the fish to include: one with the angler holding the fish, and a side view with the dorsal and anal fins extended.

You'll notice there are two boxes for witness affidavits on the application. Your witnesses must sign the form along with the person from the company with the scales. A state record must be notarized. The Angler Recognition Program must receive the application within 60 days. The angler will receive a certificate in six to eight weeks.

The program recognizes water-body, and state records for all species in fresh and saltwater in four categories: rod and reel, fly fishing, bow fishing and an unrestricted category for fish caught by any other method. State records are also kept for fish caught in private waters.

TPW uses the words, "normal customs and general accepted practices" to describe the rod, reel, line and leader in the fly fishing category. "The major criterion in casting is that the weight of the line must carry the lure rather than the weight of the lure carrying the line." No running a fly rod on a downrigger guys.

But that's not all folks. There are also line-class records out there to break. The International Game Fish Association keeps state and world records in different line sizes for each species. They have a Web site to explain it all. There are still no records in Texas in some categories too.

******

I talked to Reavis Wortham yesterday and told him about my record-breaking trip.

"I've go to go do that," he said. "I've been looking for a place to go smallmouth fishin' on a fly rod."
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know what he really wants. He wants to break my record. HeÃs taken the first step. At 2.56 pounds, the smallmouth is certainly within reach. And I also know those two big fish that spit John's fly out are still burned into his memory.

Let's face it: My record will not stand long in all likelihood. But that's as it should be. Records are made to be broken, right? I hope I can be as gracious as these old ball players who show up at games to watch there records being broken and join in the hoopla.

Maybe, but I have something those old veterans don't have: more at bats.