The t-shirt would read, “I slogged all over the Farmington River for three hours in the dark, and all I got was a handful of small hits.”
Maybe it was the weather change. Maybe it was the slight stain in the water from the rains. Maybe the DEEP pulled all the big fish out for breeding. Maybe it just wasn’t my night.
After outings like this, I tell myself this is the price you pay for those off-the-charts nights where you get two dozen bumps and three or four quality fish.
Truthfully, it was worth it alone for starting off in the rain and finishing under starlight, watching my smoke rings drift off into the cool blackness of the night.
Wherefore art thou?