Made it out yesterday; took my 7wt for no other reason than that it doesn't get fished much and it seemed to be saying, "Take me! Take me!" There's something about standing by the water and setting up a fly rod for the first time each season. Fly? When in doubt, a black wooly booger. No takes on that, so now what? Looked in the bottom of the bag and there was a foam hopper with a pheasant tail dropper left over from last year. Yeah, it's the wrong time of year for hoppers, but maybe. Walked around to a spot where the bass like to hide among some submerged rocks, and sure enough; a few bumps and dunks, a couple of misses, and then a hook up. I could barely feel him on that big ol' 7; he was about 7-8 inches by the spread-of-the-hand measuring system. Missed a couple more, then decided to hit another spot where I've had some good luck on cats, and thought they might be out scavenging. Tied the wooly booger back on, but they weren't.

But hey; mid-February, out fishing in a t-shirt, didn't get skunked...can't complain!