Yep, I'm done. No this isn't quit #1 like I do each year. I've had enough of striped bass for 2024. And looking back is was a mixed year. And with that I'll call it quits, I think. But today I heard the Fat Lady warming up as she begins her final performance for the year.
What usually does me in is a skunky kinda day with air temps below 30 degrees. This morning out west it was a balmy 24 and I had to run the truck for a bit to get the frost off my windows and some heat on the seats. As I age the cold just doesn't sit with me like it used to. I can't even imagine playing football in the snow for hours, and enjoying it, like we used to do as kids.
It was another ride down 195 until the Route 34 exit where I had to make a decision. Belmar to The Hook or Bay Head to Lavallette. I chose the later and made it down for first light.
As I made my way up to the top of the dunes I almost pulled a Triple Lindy as my smooth-bottomed Croc's met the frost on the plastic wood. You know that split second of terror when you're about to bust your ass as you get old, well I felt that.
Luckily there was no wind so the air temps around 25 weren't all that bad. I liked what I saw and was getting the vibe that the birds had defrosted and were up and starting to look around.
There were a few anglers out and the smart ones drove up and down the beach from the comfort of their heated cabs and seats. The sand was just starting to give off that crackling sound as I walked. The birds got more active and there was some fish under them but they never got close.
Word must have got out or the guys south saw the birds up around where I was and soon the headlights pointed north and guys were running, literally, over the dunes. It was the Normandy Beach charge without any invasion of fish. Of the 50 guys fishing I didn't see a fish caught.
I stood at the waters edge for two hours without making a cast. If the spin guys weren't getting them then me and my frozen fingers weren't going to get one either. I figured I
stand at the ready if the bass pushed the sand eels in closer to the beach. But soon the birds fizzled out as well as did the anglers on foot. The trucks, well, they just kept going back and forth and back and forth again. I swear I saw the same Ford Raptor go past me six times.
So after I lost all confidence I knew it was time to pay Brad a visit. I opened up the door and I could smell breakfast and feel the heat. That with a cup of coffee and my morning was complete.
Brad and I had a smile on as we re-created a Popovic's moment, "Coffee and a Fly". After the heat, the food, and the coffee, it just made me want to go over to Brad's couch and grab a throw blanket and close my eyes for a few hours. But after the two-hour visit I marched back to the beach to see if it was going down on the flip of the tide but was barren.
I did get to check out the Normandy Beach Beach Tree that Brad's brother started putting out the year after Sandy. It's adorned with painted shells that have a note or a memory on them. Brad says when it's dark and the moon is just right it makes for a very pretty scene.
I was done. And my year was done. But, I did stop at Bay Head again and looked up towards the inlet. The birds were everywhere, not in any big concentrated and working flock, but just flying around and around. There were some guys up on the beach and a look through the binoculars didn't get me jazzed up enough to make the effort to go. But I didn't want to quit.
Dog Beach? The inlet? Forget it. How about Route 34 north to 195 west. Nice. But wait, what about sneaking around to the other side and at least checking out the bottom end of Spring Lake and Sea Girt? I never check there. So I went and walked the boardwalk and stood up on a bench and looked south towards the inlet. And what did these lucky eyes see? Life, and lots of it.
The birds were off, then way off, then in close. Fish would break now and then but way out of fly rod range. But I felt like I was close, well closer than all morning, to the action. I jumped in my truck and headed south just a few blocks and was right where the action was. Action meaning tons of birds, six anglers, and bass showing from time to time but way out.
