I’d rather be casting jitterbugs for largemouths on the midnight shift. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle — whump! Each moonlit surface strike sounds like a record-setter. Lunkers prowl with evil intent after dark, but other surprises lurk just beyond the view. I once snagged a popper in an overhanging willow. As I drew within a few feet to shake it free, dozens of bats suddenly exploded from the branches. I think my partner pissed himself.