This was the scene outside my house this morning: 3 inches of new snow, 30 degrees, and a west wind gusting to 30. Not exactly the kind of warm, soft morning when I most like to go fishing. So maybe I’ll hang it up for the winter, at least locally.
While doing some late-fall fishing in Alaska years back, I first heard such early snowfalls called “terminal dust.” For the locals up there it meant the end of a season. Salmon runs were over. Time to fire up the snowmobiles.
This good be a good thing. If I lived in the Deep South where I could fish all year ’round, I’d probably fish myself to death or bankruptcy.
There’s still deer hunting to be done. The new snow will make them easier to see in the woods. And I can chase ruffed grouse around here until the end of December. But hanging up the rods is still painful. At what point do you quit, if you quit at all?