Housatonic River (April 2019)

Passover is always a busy time in the Glass household.  With so many cooks in the kitchen, it's often courteous to take the morning off for a bit of striper fishing.  After flying in late to Hartford and shutting my eyes for a few hours, I woke up in the still-dark morning and hitched a ride to the river with my brother-in-law and fellow striper fisherman.

I had heard good things about the Housatonic River, but had never actually fished it.  In short, it was one of the most action-packed days of striper fishing I've ever had.  We weren't catching monsters, but we were catching feeling nearly every cast, and could watch them chase our plastic lures to the boat.  We had fun doubling and tripling up on fish.  Then in was off to Seder!

Neuse River to SNP (March 2019)

The Neuse River in North Carolina has become somewhat of a destination for mid-Atlantic fly fishermen desperate to break out of the winter lull.  The Neuse is home to a population of stripers that spend much (if not all) of their lives in the river, unlike most estuarine populations that migrate to the ocean.  

For the second year in a row, my esteemed fishing buddy organized a trip down from Washington, DC.  In tow were two other buddies itching for adventure.  Base camp was an rental cabin right on the river, complete with kayaks and a killer view.  

We woke up early our first morning, grumbling at the lack of coffee (more later)...saddled up the kayaks and hit the water.

Can't beat the location

In short, the fishing was slow.  Very slow.  We eeked out a few tiny schoolies and a white perch.  It wasn't clear whether the hot temperatures the week before had moved the fishing, or whether some other unknown was at play.  Either way, we weren't catching.  The highlight of the day came when Buddy #3 hooked into something big.  "Are there largemouth bass in here?" he hollered.  Sure enough, he'd hooked a whopping largemouth.  Unsure whether we'd catch another fish bigger than our hand, we decided the bass would be lunch.

As our other buddies continued the hunt, the two of us headed for the kitchen.  After filleting the bass and noting the overpowering and unpleasant muddy odor, we determined frying was the only sufficient preparation method.  Scrapping together some Old Bay, hot sauce, flour, and other spices found around the rental kitchen, we turned out a surprisingly tasty lunch. 

Trophy of the weekend

Bass chef at work 

Failed attempt at afternoon coffee

White perch

Kindergarden schoolie 

When the fishing stinks, you'd better be with some good friends.  And we were.  I can honestly say I've never had so much fun not catching fish.  As the day ended, we quit fishing and paddled leisurely, enjoying the marsh and witnessing a once-in-a-lifetime sunset. 

No fish - good friends

 Sunset for the books 

Rather than try the river a second time, we decided to head back to Virginia early the next morning to mountain brook trout streams.  The fact that no one had a trout rod (most of our rods were laughably heavy for trout water) didn't deter this group. 

Our rough plan 

I
I can't say the fishing was much better in Shenandoah.  At this point, though, it barely mattered.  We were having fun road-tripping around with our rods, comparing fishing saltwater on Saturday and freshwater on Sunday, laughing about the lack of success, and enjoying the warming spring sun that meant better fishing was just around the corner. 

Fishing Hero

Shad Madness (April 2019)

Spring in Washington, DC brings the famous shad run to the Potomac River.  Last year, my fishing buddy and I hit the run perfectly...catching American Shad nearly every cast.  This time around,  I tried to manage my expectations as my befuddled Uber driver headed toward Fletcher's Boathouse around 4am.  A hard rain had been falling all night, but sure enough, the DC Shad Faithful were lined up in rain jackets with strong coffee.

DC's Shad Faithful gearing up in the middle of the night

A profile of grace

After piling in our rented row boat, we oared into the middle of the river and dropped anchor in the mist.  After a few casts...we knew we'd hit the run perfectly again.  With sinking lines and homemade shad darts, we quickly lost count of fish landed.  Sore arms and big smiles abounded as we wondered aloud whether we were outfishing every other boat on the river. 

Around mid-morning, we took mercy on the running shad.  It's not often that we stop fishing on account of having caught too many...but the shad run can be just that ridiculous.  Feeling confident, we headed for a quick lunch in Silver Spring, picked up the dog and a few compadres, and headed to the Gunpowder River in Maryland to try for a few trout.

Trout fishing was a whole new ballgame.  We casted endlessly with nothing to show -- dry flies, nymps, streamers.  Nothing would budge the fish in the high water.  Toward the end of the afternoon, we each squeaked out a fish on a dark streamer tossed at the opposite bank.  

Exhausted, we headed for the car and back to DC.  We'd been fishing for what felt like 20 hours straight.  The next morning, we'd both wake up sick...but still stoked! 

Heading out for the second fishing adventure of the day

More problem solving required than for shad