But snow is not a wonder of nature to all. Lousy weather made for better “war stories,” and often better fishing. Some old friends always went striper fishing as their Thanksgiving Day tradition – snow, wind and cold? Not a trip deal breaker. We were young and on another “adventure.”Īnd so we went fishing in one of America’s fabled streams. In the Adirondacks, tent camped in a field aside the Willowemoc, we awoke to a meadow of white and big, wet flakes lazily landing on canvas, campfire, breakfast – and us. In the very same Peapack, we actually caught trout (Muddler Minnows, slow and deep) when it was snowing sideways, the banks were frosty sugar coated and midstream rocks icy dicey. Unlike golfers being rained out, we fished in it and as fall turned to winter, in the snow. So, myself and a good friend, who also had one of those pesky jobs that interfered with fun, trout fished on weekends, with not a care about the weather. and got home, maybe, two hours later, if the trains were running on schedule, always a public transit crapshoot. Little opportunity for that existed when I left 45th and Madison at 5 p.m. shift that allowed me to get out and trout fish and deer hunt after work. I lasted two years in the bowels of New York City before going back to the newspaper game and a 7 a.m.
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