After waiting all-winter-long for the return of Sax to our waterways, there's no better feeling than that of the sudden strike to a lure left wiggling in a nighttime tide by a fish coming to bend the hell out of your rod. With any luck of genuflecting graphite strain, the blurred shape, profile, and hinting colors of the season's first fish soon emerge to coalesce within boiling surface convections atop an aqueous conveyor of inky blackness to an angler's hungered sight. A 34.5" Striper. "Something important had continued." |