I had planned to leave a few hours earlier to be able to fish the first part of the outgoing tide. Now I would just catch the last of it, the flow steadily slowing, stopping, and with the near new moon, it would hang at low tide for a good long time, nothing stirring, before everything stopped, turned back again, flowing in the opposite direction. So I decided to head to an old, secret spot well upstream from the mouth of the river where the tide would hang on a little longer, a poorly tended dead-end road, a sliver of public land providing access, a narrow, thorn-filled path leading down the river.
The Skunk
The Skunk
The Skunk
I had planned to leave a few hours earlier to be able to fish the first part of the outgoing tide. Now I would just catch the last of it, the flow steadily slowing, stopping, and with the near new moon, it would hang at low tide for a good long time, nothing stirring, before everything stopped, turned back again, flowing in the opposite direction. So I decided to head to an old, secret spot well upstream from the mouth of the river where the tide would hang on a little longer, a poorly tended dead-end road, a sliver of public land providing access, a narrow, thorn-filled path leading down the river.