It was cool and misty out when we arrived at Location X, but at least the wind wasn't howling.
A typical walk-on trip. One person I'd fished with many times before, Pat, an authentic SMIB, and hard core fisherman, and 2 new people to the boat, Mark, a retired Marine aviator (Lt. Col.) and Don, the relative youngster in the crowd, whose job seems to somehow involve building motocross tracks across the country.
According to Pete, fish had been being caught there the past few days, but the bite was on a downward trajectory.
Not to put too fine a point on it, fishing sucked. I managed the only fish on the boat, a "regular grade" striper, unmeasured but somewhere in the mid 20 inches.
Pete called the trip early, and only asked for some gas money.
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