Not a remarkable day particularly, fishing-wise. My purpose was to stretch out the territory a little and maybe even try for some carp. The rain that was forecast never came. It was a warm morning and there was only one other person, a boater, out there with me. That said a lot; that there was nobody there. The locals won't typically waste much time when they're not biting.
The bass had moved down the the (Housatonic) river about a mile and a half. I think that it's as much about the time of day as the location. When they're biting, they're biting, and you can waste a lot of time running from one spot to another hoping it will happen somewhere else. If I invest two hours in a location and get nothing out of it, I'm outa therr. Such was the case this afternoon. Pete and I had already heard grumblings during our last visit about greener pastures down river, so I invested the second half of my trip in the waters near Sikorsky.
It paid off. The warmer outgoing water produced a steady bite that more than made up for my lackluster morning.
Home in time for dinner.
