Mastering the Walking Boss: A Fall Topwater Lesson: Rick Clunn
Every fall, something happens in the world of bass fishing that never fails to capture my attention, the surface comes alive again. October brings shorter days, cooling water, and a sense of urgency to the fish. Shad start to bunch up, bass begin to feed more aggressively, and topwater lures suddenly reclaim their place as the most exciting tools in your tackle box.
Lately, no bait has made that point clearer than the Livingston Lures Walking Boss.
Over the past few weeks, the Walking Boss has taken center stage across the country. Laker Howell won a major tournament on it, throwing the full-size Bone model. The very next weekend, his father, Randy Howell, finished third and pocketed $80,000 on the same lure. The pattern, the timing, and the results all lined up, and it doesn’t surprise me one bit.
I’ve been fishing the Walking Boss since before those wins, and I saw the same thing coming. During a tough Open event at Lake Mead, every fish I weighed came on this lure. There are plenty of walking-style baits out there, but none that act quite like this one, especially when you stop it.
That’s where the magic lies. Most topwaters come alive when you move them and die when you don’t. The Walking Boss is different. When it’s sitting still, it’s still talking. That’s because of Livingston’s EBS™ (Electronic Baitfish Sound) technology. Even on the pause, the lure is emitting the biological sound of a distressed baitfish, a signal that triggers a predator’s instinct to strike.
If you understand the natural order of things, you know predators target the weak, not the strong. That’s what this bait represents. It’s not just walking side-to-side; it’s imitating something injured, something struggling and that taps into the primal instincts of bass in a way few lures ever have.
This time of year, the Walking Boss shines brightest in the backs of pockets, creeks, and coves. That’s where the baitfish push, and it’s where the biggest bass follow. In fact, if you look back at many of the Bassmaster Classics held in October, that same pattern repeats itself, big fish in the backs of pockets.
Now, here’s where most anglers make a mistake. They think topwater is a dawn-and-dusk deal. That’s true in summer, but not now. In the fall, once you commit to it, you can keep that bait in your hand all day. Sunup to sundown. Bass in October aren’t shy about coming up for a meal, and when they do, the Walking Boss gives them the perfect reason.
But this kind of fishing requires patience. You’re not chasing numbers, you’re hunting for quality. One concept I’ve used for decades is “fish per hour.” When you throw a bait like this, you’ve got to mentally establish that pace. If you’re fishing eight hours, a bite every hour or hour and a half is solid. Some days you’ll go two hours without a strike, then get two in the next fifteen minutes. You have to commit to the long game.
That commitment is what separates success from frustration. Too many anglers bail out too early, they lose patience, switch to a worm or a jig, and miss the moment. With the Walking Boss, every pause could be the one that changes your day.
When I first heard about the Howell family’s back-to-back success, I smiled. They had figured out what makes this lure special, the combination of cadence, pause, and sound. Laker talked about seeing fish rise to the bait, look at it, and go back down, only to rise again moments later. That’s the EBS™ at work. That lure keeps calling them, even when it’s sitting still.
That’s also what makes this bait so dangerous in pressured conditions. When other topwaters get ignored, the Walking Boss keeps getting noticed. It’s alive in a way fish can’t ignore.
I’ve been at this game for decades, and I can tell you this: the best baits are the ones that let nature do the heavy lifting. The Walking Boss isn’t just a lure, it’s a lesson in how predators think, how prey behaves, and how timing, patience, and commitment intersect in the fall.
So, as you get ready for your next October trip, do yourself a favor. Head to the backs of those creeks. Slow your cadence. Trust the pause. Let that EBS™ sound work for you.
The fish are listening.