Come on, It's Time to Go

My next fishing trip was on July 27, 2014 in Hudson Park. I didn't catch anything, and I recall not staying long.

Swimming in a Fish Bowl Year After Year

   On June 13, 2014, I returned to the Hudson River in Alpine, New Jersey. I didn't catch anything or stay long. The heavens opened up, and it quickly became unbearable. In the above photo, you can normally see Yonkers across the Hudson when it's not covered by a thick layer of fog.



   As you can see from the image above, where I usually go quickly flooded, and I was standing in several inches of water.

   It was a miserable experience. I abandoned the Alpine Disaster of 2014 and returned home to dry off.

And If There Is No Room Upon the Hill

   Another day, another belated post.

   Nearly a week ago, on June 6--the anniversary of the D-Day invasion--I returned to Hudson Park in New Rochelle. I got up there in the mid-morning to take advantage of the solunar calendar's recommendation for the day. I had wanted to try Alpine again, but, with the usual traffic on the Cross Bronx Expressway, I didn't think I would arrive on time.

   The day was another disappointment. In about two hours of fishing, I had only one bite. I made another early exit by noon or so. After I packed up, I went over to this nice black lady who was fishing not too far from me. She said she had no luck either.

    I guess the fish were on vacation.

And the Anzio Bridgehead Was Held for the Price of a Few Hundred Ordinary Lives

Yesterday (Tuesday, May 28), I returned to Alpine, New Jersey in the mid-afternoon. I began by picking up two dozen bloodworms and one fresh bunker at Jack's. There, a fisherman had wheeled in his day's catch: a monstrous striped bass. It must have measured several feet, and I was told it weighed over 40 lbs. (Of course, I left my phone in the car, so there's no picture.) He caught it nearby using a piece of fresh bunker. I don't know if he was on shore or in a boat. I congratulated him, shaking his hand and saying, "God bless ya! You're my hero." He appreciated my good wishes.

I then drove to Alpine. Since there was traffic on the wretched Cross Bronx Expressway, I was delayed by 45 minutes or so. I started fishing around 3:10. I missed high tide, and it was starting to recede. The weather forecast called for showers, but over here, it was raining harder than I expected. The solunar calendar predicted nominal fishing success, but I went anyway. As I have written before, fog and a slight, bearable rain usually evoke a pleasant fishing experience I once had on the Potomac River off Fletcher's Boathouse--days after I learned that I would be getting my Master's Degree.

The rain (as you can see in the above photo) created plenty of mud. Of course, I got soaked as did everything else. There was also a dense fog in the area, and I couldn't even see the George Washington Bridge. I put a piece of bunker on one line, and a bloodworm on the other. I didn't have much action at first. I eventually managed to get a few hits on both lines, but didn't catch anything.

The rain continued to batter the area and my aging frame without mercy. (Wisely, I took my pain medication before leaving home.) I managed to hold out for about 80 to 90 minutes before making another early exit (this one due to rain).

I was extra careful driving home because of the fog. Fortunately, the bad weather kept the bicyclists and pedestrians away.

And If Your Head Explodes...

Again, I'm a little late with the updates. (Story of my life.) On Monday (May 20), I once again traveled to New Jersey. Eager to try new places, I went to Ross Dock, which is also on the Hudson River with clear view of the George Washington Bridge.

In baseball, it's called an "early exit," when the manager takes out the starting pitcher early in the game after a poor performance. I did have a few hits, including what seemed to be a big one, but my hooks kept getting caught in the rocks. I started out with two poles, although I brought three with me. At one point, I accidentally stepped on the third which was resting on the ground. It was the baitcasting rod, which I had brought out of retirement. I crushed its upper half with my boot.

Ross Dock is much cleaner than Alpine and had more people. I often prefer a little solitude. To get to Ross Dock, I noticed it's five miles from the exit on the Palisades Parkway. You have to be extra careful when driving on the road since it's frequently used by cyclists and a few pedestrians. I can get to Alpine much faster.

After about 90 minutes or less, my frustrations (and some physical pain) got the best of me, and I gave up. I'll try not to let this experience, which I have christened the Ross Dock Disaster of 2013 and rivals the Croton Point Park Disaster of 2009, prejudice me against Ross Dock. Next time, I'll just try a different spot.

In the meantime, I have to restock my gear.

Unladen, Empty, and Turned to Stone

   Yesterday (May 13), I drove up to Hudson Park in New Rochelle. In-Fisherman's solunar calendar reported good fishing between 1 and 3 PM. Unfortunately, I struck out.

   I just took two dozen bloodworms with me. I had two lines in the water by 1:10 or so. I didn't get a single bite.

   It was also colder than normal and quite windy. A couple of times, I took refuge in my car. (I left my jacket at home.)

  I just stayed for 90 minutes and went back home. I had some things to take care of.

On the Turning Away From the Pale and Downtrodden

Tonight, I'm gonna take that ride
Across the river to the Jersey side

--Bruce Springsteen, "Jersey Girl"

   Yesterday (May 1), I left New York for the first time in over a decade to fish. I didn't go far. I decided to test the waters of the Hudson River on the New Jersey side.

   I took two fresh bunker and about two dozen bloodworms. After crossing the George Washington Bridge, I made a right on the Fort Lee Exit and drove up to the Palisades Interstate Park. I picked the Alpine Picnic Area, which is opposite Yonkers, New York. The place (at least the long and winding road to the picnic area) is beautiful and used by numerous bicyclists and hikers. I didn't see anyone else fishing. I picked one of the benches behind the wall. The area where I fished was dirty and muddy. Several state park buildings and nearby docks still had Hurricane Sandy Storm Damage. As I understand, as the summer approaches, there will be a $5 parking fee.

   By around 3:10 PM, I had my two lines in the water, one with a bloodworm and the other with a piece of fresh bunker. The solunar calendar was once again vindicated, although I didn't catch anything. I did, however, have a number of hits with the bloodworms. In fact, since I've had no luck with fresh bunker recently, I switched the second line to bloodworms as well.

   It was sunny with a slight breeze. The rocks in the water evoked painful memories of the Croton Point Park Disaster of 2009, where practically every cast got snagged on a rock. This time, my lines got caught only three times. It's always a nuisance to attach new fish finders with a sinker and tie a got knot on the snap swivel. But it really doesn't take that long.

   I passed the time--as I frequently do--with my pipe and my iPod. I went through my chronological "Bruce Springsteen Favorites" playlist, appropriately starting with the tracks from The River (1980).

   Despite a few hits, I couldn't catch anything. Still, I enjoyed myself, and I'm glad I found another spot. I will definitely return here soon.

   It's great to be back.

The Unexpected Resurrection of a Man Called Horse

   After over two years of silence, I have finally returned.

   Like Tommy John, Tony Conigliario, Tom Filer, Rick Burleson, Dennis Leonard, Charlie Lea, Joba Chamberlain, and Chien-Ming Wang, I face the challenge of getting back into the game after a substantial amount of time on the shelf. To shake off the rust, I started simple. I went fishing one week ago, Wednesday, April 10. Ironically, it was the same place where I last fished: Hudson Park in New Rochelle.

   I bought one dozen bloodworms and two fresh bunker. By the early afternoon, I had two lines in the water. The conditions were less than optimal. There was a breeze, and the sun was out. However, the tide was high. Looking across to Five Islands Park, I notice the metal, floating dock where I fished a number of times was gone. Apparently, Hurricane Sandy took it away.

   I hoped to begin my comeback by catching something for the first time since 2010. Unfortunately, I struck out. I didn't have a single bite in the two hours I spent there. There were several people fishing in the area, and I didn't see anyone catch anything.

   Nevertheless, it was great to be back.

   

The Unexpected Early Return of a Man Called Horse

I have returned.

Yes, it's no doubt much earlier than the three of you and myself expected.

I went fishing on Friday, February 18. It seemed like a perfect day to go fishing. The forecast called for warm temperatures, in the mid-60s or so. An online solunar table I consulted reported that a full moon would be out on February, with the moon underfoot for a two-hour period starting at 12:28 PM. If you recall, many fishermen rely on solunar tables on when to fish. Apparently, the fishing is best when there is a full moon overhead or underfoot. During these times, fish go on a feeding frenzy.

Along with the weather and the phase of the moon, high tide in New Rochelle was around 11 AM. The day seemed to be too perfect to let pass me by. I even planned ahead.

The day before, I called Jack's Bait and Tackle, and they were out of both bloodworms and fresh bunker. I then checked with City Island Bait and Tackle. They had bloodworms and frozen bunker. I took a drive on City Island and bought my bait in advance. I stored it in a basement refrigerator. The bunker would be thawed out the next day. I made a checklist of stuff I should take. I don't I believe I ever tried fishing in mid-February.

I decided to pick Hudson Park in New Rochelle. I didn't want to go too far or walk a distance from my car, especially when I just wanted to shake off the rust from the winter and last season's disappointments. Despite the warmer than usual weather, there was still some snow on the ground. In Hudson Park, there was a gigantic mountain of shoveled snow in the parking lot. Since late December, the New York City has gotten clobbered with a number of heavy snowstorms and blizzards. (Thank God I was smart enough to buy a snowblower several years ago to spare my joints and high blood pressure.)

I got there around 11:30 or so. On this day, I brought a couple of slices of bread (the kind you slip into a toaster) to try as bait. I read that many fish will go for the bread especially when they're hungry.

Before noon, I had three lines in the water, one with bloodworms, one with a piece of thawed-out bunker, and one with a bread pellet I made.

Unfortunately, I didn't catch anything. In fact, I didn't have one single bite. There were other fisherman who came and went, and they didn't seem to have any luck either. So it's not just me.

I passed the time catching up with my reading of articles I ripped out of the Wall Street Journal. I listened to my iPod touch. I smoked a Butera Capo Grande cigar.

The bread bait didn't work as well. It just crumbled when it hit the water. I realize I should let it dry hours in advance so it won't fall apart. I threw the remaining bread in the garbage, which then attracted several Omen-like black crows.

By 3 PM, the tide was going down. The wind picked up considerably. The full moon's underfoot phase had passed. So I packed up and went home.

Maybe it was too early for this area despite the favorable conditions. Maybe I should have tried another part of the park or even somewhere else. Who knows?

If the weather is relatively warm in March, I will fish.

The 2011 season has begun.

But It Was Only Fantasy

My losing streak continues. On Friday afternoon, I returned to Hudson Park. I wanted to try something. Many fishermen often rely on solunar calendars, which chart the phases of the moon. The In-Fisherman's solunar calendar (linked above) reported that the best day to fish was on Friday, when a new moon appeared. There's no astrology or voodoo involved, but the fish seem to be more active when there's a new or a full moon based on how it affects the Earth.

In my case, it didn't work out. I didn't even get a single bite. No one else I saw fishing caught anything either. So I guess it's not just me.

I picked up one dozen bloodworms from Jack's. They were out of fresh bunker. I decided to use all three lines to maximize coverage and increase my chances of catching something.

But nothing.

Is It Just a Waste of Time?

Yesterday, I made my second trip to Riverdale. The parking attendant told me that someone or some people caught a few big fish the day before.

I went to the last area on the promenade, the same spot I used last time. It was sunny and hotter than I expected. The tide was low, and it was coming in. I started fishing around 2:30.

Early on, I had two bites, which (combined with the parking attendant's report) increased my hopes of having a great day fishing.

As it turned out, it didn't work out that way.

At first I used two poles. Since there was little or no wind, I then used three. I had a couple of more bites, but failed to catch anything. As usual, I kept losing the bait. I didn't use the treble hooks I bought last year. I didn't just didn't feel like using them. Maybe that was a mistake.

I passed the time reading old articles I had ripped put of the Wall Street Journal. I listened to my iPod. I talked with a Metro North maintenance worker about fishing.

In the evening, the temperature dropped noticeably. I wished I had brought my sweatshirt or jacket.

After the sun disappeared behind the New Jersey side, the clouds came out. I thought this might increase my chances of catching something, but it didn't.

I packed up around 7 PM. I took a second box of bloodworms home with me to use next time.

My failure to catch anything today gave me a bad feeling: that this might turn out to be a really disappointing fishing season.

Unheeded Warnings, I Thought I Thought of Everything

Yesterday (Monday, May 3), the skies looked cloudy. I figured I would go fishing since I live for those type of overcast days.

I headed up to Hudson Park in New Rochelle. I went to Hudson Park Bait and Tackle to pick up bloodworms. The nice lady at the store told me they were out of bloodworms and fresh bunker. I was forced to settle for sandworms instead.

As I drove into the lot, I noticed the clouds getting darker and more ominous. A strong wind was moving the water. It started raining, and then the heavens opened up. I stayed in my car and didn't get wet. I figured I wait 15 minutes or so.

I got there a little after high tide around 4 PM. It eventually stopped raining, so I started fishing. As I set up, another fisherman, who also waited for the downpour to end, got out of his van. We exchanged nods.

I just used two lines. As the weather got better, the lot gradually filled up with more fishermen. I also saw a few fishermen across the water in Five Islands Park. They weren't fishing on the dock, where I usually fish, but on the nearby rocks. In fact, the nice lady told those rocks were the places to fish for stripers.

I had exactly two bites. Unfortunately, I didn't hook anything. I added fresh sandworms to the lines several times as the day went on. I reeled in the lines a little to attract the attention of any stripers or flounder who might be hungry.

In the evening, the sun even came out, and the water became perfectly still. I enjoyed it as I smoked another Butera Capo Grande cigar.

I wondered how things would have turned out if I took the long way and went to Jack's on City Island and picked up bloodworms and fresh bunker. I don't think it would have made much of a difference since I didn't see anyone else catch anything.

I gave up around 7 PM.

Return of a Man Called Horse

I have returned. My fishing blog now begins its fifth year. I know I got started a little late this year.

I cleaned and respooled my three fishing poles. To shake off the winter rust, I took a quick fishing trip on Sunday afternoon. I was determined to avoid either Riverdale or New Rochelle for my first fishing trip on the season. I will certainly return to both places and perhaps even this week, but I feel I became too dependent on them last year.

I decided to try Mamaroneck Harbor (specifically Harbor Island Park) for the first time in many years. I remember catching a nice stripper (maybe 15 inches) here back in November 1996. I left my car on the street. I fished directly behind the Mamaroneck Volunteer Firemen's Memorial (probably not its exact name).

I got there before noon. There were a few clouds in the sky. There was a little wind, but not much. The water was shallow, and the tide was coming in.

I just used two poles, and used bloodworms for bait. I didn't intend to stay long. When I got there, I realized I picked a poor spot to fish.

One time, I thought I had a bite. I reeled it in, but it was nothing. I changed the bait a few times, but I didn't have any luck. I gave up around 2 PM. I wouldn't call it a wasted experience since I was determined to get started for the season.

If I want to avoid complacency, I know I have to explore more areas, not only in Westchester, but elsewhere.

This Is Not How I Am

My last fishing trip was on Monday, August 31. For whatever reason, I never got around to updating the blog. The details of the trip have faded slightly, but are still recalled.

I struck out for the fourth time in a row. Once again, I picked Riverdale, which was a very safe (i.e. reliable and successful) area for me in the spring, despite not catching anything there last time. Since it was the last day of the month, I was determined to catch an August fish. I never had much luck with fishing in August. I know I haven't caught one in August since starting this blog in May 2006. I can't remember the last August fish I caught, though I am certain that I did catch one. So I figured Riverdale would facilitate me catching an August fish. I guess I will have to wait until next year. It's also frustrating that I haven't caught anything since May.

The trip began with a bad omen. As I was driving on the Mosholu Parkway, I suddenly remembered that my tackle box was back home in the basement. This didn't present a problem since I've started keeping my hooks, snap swivels, sinkers, and fish finders in a small pipe tobacco can. Then I realized that I forgot to buy bait. So I turned around and bought a dozen blood worms at Jack's. I probably got to Riverdale at 3 PM or so.

I picked the last viewing area on the promenande. This turned out to be a mistake since part of the fence was overgrown with foliage, which attracted several bees and flies.

Like last time, I tried treble hooks and worm hooks. I don't remember if I ever got a bite. But I would like to keep experimenting with them (especially next spring).

The only eventful thing that happened was that a man came to see me. The man (who was in his mid-50s) said he currently lives in Alaska, but used to live in the Bronx and fish in Riverdale and City Island. We must have talked for maybe 10 minutes.

I remember it being warm, but in the evening it cooled down. I enjoyed a Butera Capo Grande cigar that I had managed to recharge in my home humidor. I also passed the time listening to my iPod and reading the newspaper. Since I had no luck (despite my usual tricks), I went home maybe 6 PM or 6:30.

When I got home, I watched the Yankee game and saw Andy Pettitte lose a perfect game in the 7th inning in Baltimore. He did get the win, and that lifted my spirits.

As to why I haven't fished in September, I can't really explain it. Once again, I let time pass me by.

Although it's now October, I am not quite ready to give up for the season.

And Did They Get You to Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts?

I struck out for the third time in a row.

Last Friday (July 17), I returned to Riverdale. I admit I decided to fish there because it's been a safe and reliable spot for me this past season.

After picking up two dozen bloodworms from Jack's, I had my lines in the water at 4:30, about a half hour before high tide.

The weather was humid, and the sky was filled with omnious clouds. Heavy rain and thunderstorms were predicted, but they arrived long after I left. The water was calm.

On that day, I decided to experiment with some new hooks I bought via mail order from Cabelas. For two poles, I used treble hooks. One type I bought was snelled (which I attached on a snap swivel), while the other was not. The second type has a large-enough eye that my fish finder wouldn't slip through it. So I was able to tie it to the line. I wondered if hooking the worm on three hooks would reduce chances of the bait slipping off and also increase the chances of securely hooking a fish. For my third line, I used worm hooks, which I tied to the line.

I did have a few bites. One time I nearly hooked something, but the fish let go of the bait or managed to unhook itself. I did check the lines a few times and saw that the hooks were completely clean. I don't want to conclude my experiment was a failure until I try it a few more ones.

I passed the time reading the Wall Street Journal and the Bronx Times-Reporter. I listened to my iPod, and I exchanged emails, using my BlackBerry Pearl, with a friend.

In the evening, it got cooler, and the sun began to peek through the clouds. I enjoyed the cool weather and was treated to a beautiful sunset.

I left around 8:30 or so after it got dark.

Fishing always seems to slow down in the summer, so we'll see what the next couple of months bring.

With Your Nerves in Tatters

After a month of silence, I have returned. "Where have you been?" the three of you who visit this blog regularly must be asking. About a day after the Croton disaster, I caught a bad cold--it seemed more like the flu--which incapacitated me the rest of the week. I then caught a minor ear infection, which nagged me for a couple of weeks. My bizarre sleep patterns and some bad weather also helped derail my fishing plans for June.

Today, I went fishing at Five Islands Park in New Rochelle. It's hard to believe that I haven't fished here since April 27. Time passes awful quickly.

I stocked up on supplies at Jack's and bought two dozen bloodworms and two fresh bunker. Once again, I bought more bait than I needed.

I got to the dock around 12 PM, about 90 minutes or so before high tide. The sun was out, and it wasn't too hot. There was a slight breeze. The dock often moved back and forth, perhaps due to the breeze and the water, which was unusually active.

I used three lines, two with bloodworms and one with bunker. Today, I also experimented with snelled Kahle hooks, which are shaped like this. Unfortunately, the ones I bought at Jack's had too much flourocarbon leader (at least three feet) attached to them. I was able to cast my lines with these hooks, but they're more suited for deeper water.

I had exactly one bite. When I reeled it in, the line snapped. I didn't have any other bites. I guess the fish were on vacation.

I packed up around 3:30, as the tide was going out.

I do have a few things to do before my next fishing trip: organize my tackle box, throw out stuff I don't need, clean and then respool one reel, and wash my fishing rags.

Can You Show Me Where It Hurts?

Yesterday (Monday), I followed up on a pledge to try a new place to fish. (Complacency has always been a big problem with me.) I picked Croton Point Park in Croton-on-Hudson in northern Westchester County. The park is adjacent to the Hudson River.

I tried scouting it late Saturday night, but I missed the exit and ended up in Putnam County. After checking a map, I found it Sunday afternoon. I drove up the Bronx River Parkway, switched to the Sprain Brook Parkway, and then the Taconic State Parkway. I got off at the exit for Route 9A, which took me to the park. I had to pay $8, as a non-resident, to access the park. Since it was a Sunday, the park was packed with visitors. I asked a man who fishing with his girlfriend what type of fish were in these waters. He said that someone recently caught a 40-pound striper. He also said there catfish in the water. I thanked him and wished him luck.

After picking up bait (two dozen bloodworms and two fresh bunker), I got to the park around 3:30 PM. Before fishing, I had some lunch at a picknic table. Since it was a weekday, the park was relatively deserted.

The day turned out to be a disappointment. After doing a little research on the Internet and checking the map, it seemed I didn't really fish in the Hudson River, but Croton Bay, which is in the southern part of the park. (You can see land across the water in the above photo.)

I started out by using bloodworms on two lines and a piece of fresh bunker on the third. The weather was sunny, and it was quite windy.

It seems the bottom of Croton Bay is quite rocky. I kept getting my lines caught on the bottom. When a fish hook gets snagged on a submerged rock, it's very difficult to get it loose, especially from shore. It's almost like hammering a mountain-climbing spike into rock. After fishing for about an hour and 45 minutes, I ran out of sinkers. (At one point, I did see one my lines moving, suggesting a fish was nibbling on it.) So I gave up.

I should rescout the park and find a more suitable place to fish, especially on the Hudson River.

There Is No Pain, You Are Receding

Today, I tried Kensico again. I returned to an area not far from the dam, where I fished several times before with some luck.

I wanted to do try something different today. Instead of sawbellies, I thought I'd try bloodworms instead with my larger poles with heavier test line. In the early days, meaning 1996, I did catch a couple of fish that way.

I picked up just a dozen bloodworms at Jack's. (Wade's doesn't carry bloodworms.) I got to the rock around 2:15 and had two lines in the water with bloodworms.

The weather was overcast and quite cool. There was little wind, and the water was still.

Going in, I honestly didn't expect to catch anything or even stay long.

I met my expectations. I didn't have a single bite. At one point, I tried to reel in one of the two bloodworms, but it got stuck. I pulled and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. I just didn't feel like cutting the line, especially after respooling it recently. So I just put my rod down with a hope that a fish might free the line for me.

I opted not to listen to my iPod. Instead, I read more of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I enjoyed the sounds such as the wind blowing through the leaves. At one point, I heard knocking. I could tell it came high up, off the ground. It must have been a woodpecker. I named him "Woody," after a childhood favorite.

I eventually tried the line that got stuck. I was able to reel it in. How did it get loose? Did a fish help me out, or was it something else?

With my third pole, I tried a lure, a spoon with green tails. I don't know the exact name, or how it got into my tackle box. Although I was able to cast it far, I had no luck with it. All too often, I buy things I never or rarely use or really need.

As I was standing on the rock and looking at the water, I asked myself, "Where are the fish?" I was hoping to see a fish jump out of the water, but I didn't see any. I also didn't see a single rowboat. I reminded myself that I keep trying Kensico because there is always a chance I might catch something.

I gave early, before 5 PM. We'll see what the rest of the week brings.

Running Over the Same Old Ground

Today, I made my return to Hudson Park in New Rochelle for the first time in over a year. If you recall, the last time I was here I lost a large striper.

I picked up two dozen bloodworms and one fresh bunker from Jack's. I got to Hudson Park around 4:30 at high tide. It was sunny and warm, but with no wind. I chose Hudson Park because of its convenience. I was feeling a little under the weather with a couple of pains, and I didn't feel like carrying my fishing gear over a distance.

I began the day by respooling two of my poles with 17-pound test. By 5 PM, I had my lines in the water, two with bloodworms and one with a piece of fresh bunker.

I didn't get a single bite all day. I said my prayer. I changed bait. I reeled in the lines a little to draw attention to the bait. I recast the lines. Nothing worked.

What's funny is that there were fish jumping out of the water. One fisherman, using a bunker sinker (a sinker with several hooks), caught a few bunker.

I passed the time by reading the Wall Street Journal and listening to my iPod. In the evening, I smoked a very good cigar.

I gave up around 7:10.

I hope to try Riverdale on Sunday and maybe a new location during the week.

The Price of a Few Hundred Ordinary Lives

Yesterday (Monday), I finally made it to Kensico for the first time in two years. I brought my two smaller poles I use for trout and bucket with the aerator.

My first task was to find Wade's Bait and Tackle, which moved again. It went from North White Plains to Valhalla and now Hawthorne. I stopped at the Kensico Dam Plaza to study my roadmap. After driving for about 10 minutes (up Columbus Avenue and then left on West Stevens Avenue), I found Wade's, which is right next to the Gate of Heaven Cemetery and maybe a block or two from the Mt. Pleasant Metro North Station. (I also discovered that Wade's is right off the Taconic State Parkway.)

The man there said they were out of sawbellies, but had shiners. I bought a dozen of them. I also bought three new lures. The man said the trout were biting and advised me to fish one shiner with a bobber and one off the bottom.

I decided to return to a rock, off Rye Bridge, which I haven't tried in over ten years. That rock is very significant in my personal history. It's where I broke my ankle in August 1996. I did return to the rock maybe a couple of times afterward when I was healed up, but I don't think I've been back since the 1990s. I guess I got used to other spots at Kensico.

The only change I noticed is that a sunken tree on the right side of the rock was no longer there. Everything else looked the same.

I also brought along the long pole I usually use for New Rochelle and the Hudson River. I wanted to use it for lures.

I started fishing around 4:30. The sun was out, and the water was still. Using the small poles with egg sinkers, I could never get a good cast. With the bobber, I got the line only a few feet off shore. I also forgot that one of my poles has a defect. Whenever I cast the line out, it always got caught on a slight nick on my reel, which caused my line to drop. I should either replace the reel or find a way to fix the nick before using it next time. I lost a few shiners when casting the line. I didn't have a single bite.

With the long pole, I tried numerous casts with a Krocodile. But I didn't have any luck. In fact, I got my line tangled. Now I probably have to respool it.

I gave up at 6:30, earlier than I planned. I dumped the rest of the shiners in the water.

The day was frustrating. I never had much luck with trout. So why does Kensico keep luring me? It's a nice drive up, and the area is very beautiful. I also have hope that I'll catch something big here someday.