SIX AM, THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON,
was so cold that small ice crusted in the ferrules as I reeled back in and cast again. They were there. A few would nose my spinning lure but never get around to biting. I shared my thermos coffee with another angler there. He did not say thanks. He wrote it. He also wrote, "They are biting over on... Sign in to see full entry.