Yesterday, I had Friday off, so I decided to spend the day at Kensico.
My first task was to find Wade's Bait & Tackle in North White Plains. It's on North Broadway in North White Plains, a little south of the reservoir on Route 22. I found it easily. I bought a dozen sawbellies, which are widely considered an effective live bait for trout. I also picked up two Krocodile lures. The young gentleman at Wade's was very helpful. He advised that I use a very small hook and hook the sawbelly through the lips.
I chose a spot I had visited 10 years ago, about a mile or so north of the dam. I caught my very first bass there. It's a bit of a climb from the side of the road and then maybe a five-minute walk. It's a big flat rock area and more open. In some spots, trees on or near the shore often interfere with proper casting.
I started fishing around 1:30. I had one line with a sawbelly. I also tried a Krocodile with the other. It was cloudy. The forecast called for a storm, but I was told by the gentleman at Wade's that it moved north. I did get a slight drizzle. By 5 PM, it cleared up, and the sun came out.
On Thursday, I went to church for the Feast of the Ascension. I asked God to help me to catch some fish up at Kensico. I also lit a votive candle to Christ and sought the intercession of St. Peter, one of the patron saint of fishermen. Yesterday, they answered my prayers.
In the first few hours, I had a few bites on the line with the live bait. I caught two perch (which I incorrectly thought were smallmouth bass), which were both 11 inches. I think they are the first fish I caught at Kensico since 1999. So thank you, God, Jesus, and St. Peter.
I didn't catch any trout. I had no luck with the Krocodile. But I'm grateful I caught something.
By the late afternoon, I stopped getting hits. Was because of the time of day or the fact that the sun came out? I had one hit in the late evening, but nothing else.
By late evening, I still had lots of sawbellies left. So I was replacing the bait more frequently. Sawbellies are quite fragile, and they seem to die faster than minnows, which are tougher.
In the water, which is clear, I could see very small fish swimming. I guess the trout and bass feed on them.
As I waited, I took a few pictures, glanced at a couple of newspapers, and smoked my pipe.
I learned one of life's joys is lying back on a big, flat rock, resting my head on my tackle box, and looking up at the sky. I listened to the sounds of the area such as a distant siren, a car, an airplane, birds, small fish jumping out of the water, and wind blowing through leaves.
I packed it in around 8:30 when daylight was nearly exhausted.
Now that I know where to shop for bait and have a favorite spot, I think I will visit Kensico more often in search of the elusive trout.
