It's odd that the bias of comfort gives you an illusory expectation about what's out there when it's cold and rainy. You do need adequate clothing and bootfoot waders, but rather then being a bulwark against misery, the experience is pleasure and levity. You have to get past the illusion as you go out the door, and perhaps deal with a little stress towards the outing's end.
When I began, it rained hard, snow mixed in, 38 degrees. I had put two pairs of socks on, including heavy wool, so my feet stayed warm the whole time. Never took the water's temp, but it's very cold. It was in the 20's last night, and hiking into the river from where I parked my car for the second time, a large puddle frozen over held my weight. Later on, the walk back to the car was even better, because going in, my anticipations for the fishing made me a little impatient. I was at least a half mile below the stocking point, and despite the chilly temperatures, I had made the deliberate choice to go without gloves. Too much of a pain to deal with them in the rain.
When later I drove off, the temperature had risen to 42, but it had become plenty chilly on wet hands, which did begin to get stiff when I decided to leave after about two hours of fishing altogether.
I had just begun to work my way upriver when my maribou jig got slammed right out in front of me. I had missed the hit, but I didn't fail to fish hard another 15 minutes or so. I had also taken two suspicious taps.
Gasoline from highway runoff.
