Hadn't fished since the 18th. Since I had to go to the vet out in Branchburg, I planned on making a stop at the U.S. Route 202 bridge. Last I pulled onto the gravel, October, 1993, I caught 15 of those little trout the state used to stock in the fall, a couple of them about eight inches, the rest about six. Since I knew there's a hole under the bridge or used to be, I imagined bass.
Hole's still there. My Chompers worm took a hit from a bass. It had leapt for a damselfly and I winged a cast right to the splash. But the water stained somewhat, I knew chances of any other takes had no favor. Too lazy to tie on a snap swivel and spinner, I left after 10 minutes.
And then this evening I went to a spot on the same river near home for nearly an hour. Here water's a lot clearer, though still not clear as a bell as I like it and the bass do too. My son spotted a 19-incher in this stretch about a week ago while walking our black Lab. Stretch is extensive. The bass could have been up or downstream--or in another stretch entirely, since bass apparently move around rivers during summer.
My fourth or fifth cast didn't go where I intended. Nevertheless, I had that odd feeling telling me this is the cast that will result. I let the worm sink and settle for a good 15 seconds, and forgot all about my hunch. It was a long cast and all out of sight. I never noticed line twitch. And I just began reeling to retrieve the worm, rather than testing the line as should always be done. Fish on. Drag gave a little before I could really set the hook. And then the bass came free.
Anyhow, I'm supposed to fish the South Branch with Noel soon. I hope I can report a catch, but I'm afraid water just won't be clear enough.
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