Twenty-seven degrees and time to catch some striped bass.
The drive along the Housatonic to the launch site is always relaxing.
Water and air temps were both in the low 30s most of the afternoon. 4-inch silver/white pan-tailed soft plastics on a small umbrella rig with 1/10 oz. weighted hooks trolled slow and low.
Had a brush with greatness that yielded only an inkilng of the behemoth that taunted me from below. My line came tight with what seemed like a tree stump, at first stopping my progresss, but then pulling loose. What I retrieved was familiar from other contexts (Montauk cow bass), but wholly unexpected amidst the microbass and schoolies that typically find their way to my hook. We mark them all the time, but in the winter months they're like Sasquatch; if you did catch one, nobody would believe you.
If there was ever any doubt that there are big fish down there, consider the size of the scale that was impaled on my hook.
By my estimates, that had to be close to a 50lb fish. Pete thought that it was likely a carp, based on the color, and I'm inclined to agree, though I've never even caught a carp. I've held a lot of scales from bass in the 40-pound range and they were thicker (and smaller) than this one.
As usual, the day ended with cold beverages and great food at the Hook, Line and Sinker... and another story about the one that got away.
