2/6

The weather forecasts going into this past weekend were looking promising, Sunday showed highs well above freezing accompanied by a light and variable wind, so I ended up scooping Kenny and his boat on Sunday morning and driving north to the Valley. Round Valley Reservoir is an awesome lake in central NJ, Deep Clear water and a healthy population of both naturally reproducing and state stocked trophy trout. I had always wanted to try fishing here but the 55$ fishing license and the drive alone kept me from ever actually going there, until last winter, when we had one of the most wicked ice seasons we've ever seen on this side of the appalacians. We had upwards of a foot of ice last year in during the first week of March, and it was after many Marsh Creek Musky skunkings that I asked Kenny if he wanted to go up and give it a shot. I asked Romo too, for the record, but he said "no way, too futile", a common response from him when I shoot him a bat shit crazy idea like Ice Fishing a new lake for a new species. Anyways, we did really well through the ice up there last year, one of the rare winter seasons where the Valley was locked up with a foot of ice.

There won't be any Ice on the Valley this winter, at least I hope not. It would have to get very cold and stay very cold, and I really don't want that... I would much rather see above average temps and openwater fishing to turn on. So 7am Sunday morning we launched Kenny's boat into a very favorable looking situation, no wind and mild, we thought we were going to roll out to the marks we had made from last winter and start catching Lake Trout again. Well that would turn out to be a very ambitious dream as we found out pretty quick that the fish were either not there or not on the feed. Long story short I caught 1 Lake Trout... Kenny caught no Lake Trout. It was tough like that. We did mark some fish and miss/lose a few, but bites came very inconsistently and it was nothing like our past experience at the Valley.

Weather was awesome, the water was awesome, anticipating the next bite was awesome, but it didn't happen. I hope for better action on a trip like that but this is fishing.

2/6

Nothing good to report. Living in Philadelphia is a drag. Its February now, our saltwater action is non-existent, ice fishing our overpressured impoundments sucks, the rivers are icy and muddy. Theres very few options and the options we do have are 1-20 hours away, basically need to drive far just for the hope of catching something decent. Driving out of PA is certainly the only option. Im about done with all this and am dying to go to florida, I have never been to FLA but have been reading reports, looking at pics and videos online and talking to people who know the land and water down there, why do I even live in Philly? Why do I pay so much money for such a shitty apartment in a shitty location?

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, sweating uncontrollably, with the weirdest craving for the sound of tree frogs. I've never felt such a craving, my soul has had nothing to live for over the past month. Every year, after months of agony, cold and hopelessness, it is the tree frogs who restore peace to the minds and souls of all of us. It is this noise that makes us complete once again, after falling apart and living in pieces through the dead months, the sound of mild weather is rebirthing. Walking to a fishing spot through the woods, along the river when the night is dead quiet except for the deafening roar of the tree frog colony. This is the noise that starts it off, you know the herring and shad are there if you hear the frogs, and if the herring and shad are there the Bass are there too. Just to know they're there does something in comforting the soul. These trips often produce nothing, you get skunked a lot on these types of trips, but for every skunking there will be a productive trip to come in the future, and if you never got skunked then you wouldn't feel like you accomplished anything when your time finally comes. Thats all I want - to feel complete again, driving to an unknown location, stopping for bloodworms at an unknown walmart, and to sit and wait and watch that rod tip.

Although our rivers are dead now, soon they will turn to highways and parking lots for Striped Bass Shad and Herring. Feeding commences. Cows roll. Hopes and dreams of a bigger fish than I've ever seen keep me on the water late into the night. and again the next night. Its the Spring Striper run, anything can happen. The breeders are knocking on our doorstep, at any given time we could be placing our bait or plug in front of the face of a rogue bass. I dream of a 50. or even a 60. 70's and larger have been caught in our rivers. It is within the Tree Frogs that we find hope, reason to live, and comfort in our surroundings, and the anticipation of a big run off, hooking the one we can't stop, all begins with the Tree Frog.

This is all I look forward to. It is usually around the Trout Opener that the Striper Fishing starts to pick up. I will tell you honestly, It has been over 10 years since I have fished a Trout Opener, in my opinion there is nothing worse than participating in this nonsense. Opening day trout is for the birds.

So with all that, fuck winter. Fuck February especially, there is no worse month.