Soon after I had awakened late in the morning, viewed the weather--not raining yet--and spoke briefly with my son, I had a strong urge, an urge that persisted, to return to the Meadowlands for stripers. It felt properly nasty out, without threat of rain sufficiently heavy to make a trip a real mess. Considering my feeling, it occured to me that this is walleye weather, but apparently striper weather, too; conditions are a lot like last Saturday, or at least where we were in Baltimore, perhaps nicer here, when at least a couple were caught compared to my none on 87-degree Monday.
But I fought the urge, and compromised for a little trout fishing. I didn't want to oppose today's weather against my son who inevitably would have come along. Winds would gust to near 50 out on those open waters and lands, 45 degrees and whatever wind chill and some rain besides. Wait until tomorrow or Tuesday with pleasant, at least more pleasant for sure, weather.
Surprise hit me when I saw no cars parked at the CR 641 Lamington River bridge at the border of Bedminster and North Branch. It's Saturday. I don't want to take the time to phone the trout hotline, but last I knew, Lamington River was stocked on Friday, that would be yesterday. Nor did the river itself behave as if it had been stocked. I must have fished an hour. I worked four holes assiduously. One of them is among my favorites on any stream, with warm memories having persisted from it for a decade. Yes, the water was a shade high, no more than that, and clearer than it is through this stretch in the summer. Either carp between CR 641 and CR 665, or farming, stains the summer flow. No hits today.
With a winter jacket on, 45 degrees with sharp wind gusts, no one around at all, and very few cars crossing the bridge, it felt like a lone pursuit in December. Never before in all my life have I had a stream to myself--right near a bridge--on a Saturday in the thick of trout season.