Recon Prologue Please bear with me, for it's been a while since I sat at the keyboard and tried to put down a coherent thought that lasted more than three lines. As some of you may know, this column had appeared previously on a different website. However, the column fell through lethargy to utter non-use for a number of reasons, most notably my lack of motivation to write. I guess I suffered my first bout of writer's block. That, obviously, has changed. This past fall run, a combination of beautiful scenery, interesting characters, strange occurrences, and a decent showing of fish rekindled my hunger to write. I wanted to start fresh, but was embarrassed to ask for a new home. Finally, after a few weeks of nerve building exercises, I sent an e-mail to TimS from StripersOnline.com titled "Do you have room?" describing my request. To my relief, not only did he agree, he seemed genuinely happy to provide space for this column.

New Toys

By Sunday afternoon I finished all of my self-appointed chores. My new tires and wheels were firmly fastened on the truck. Getting two old ones off was an adventure in itself. In short, steel hub plus aluminum wheel plus salt equals a wheel that doesn't want to come off. With my father's help, I managed to get them off and the new tires and wheels on. I went up a tire size, and was anxious to see if the truck handled the beach any better.

Island Beach rules require, among other things, a fishing rod per person over the age of 14 and fishing tackle. Although I only intended to take a ride and scout the place out, I needed stuff. I chose two fly rods and a couple boxes of flies. Although a fish was being caught here and there on clams (including an 18 pound fish the Sunday prior), I didn't plan on spending much time on a serious fishing effort. I did want to see how some flies I had tied over the winter looked in the water. Along with the rods, I put my waders and rain jacket in the back of the truck. I was ready.

At the gate I experienced a first since I bought my first pass for the park many years ago. I was asked if I had all my equipment. I responded that I did and it was all in the back, and was sent on my way with a smile.

I stopped at Gillikens to air down. I was surprised to see the tires had almost 60 psi in them. That would explain the rough ride. I dropped the fronts to 22 psi and the back tires to 20 psi. The truck ran through the sand like a tank. I didn't need a running start to go up an incline, and I could pretty much run anywhere without bogging. The beach wasn't in the same terrible condition its found in during the summer, so at that time I'll probably run a little less pressure.

How Things Looked

The surf zone on Island beach looks really good. Lots of nice structure to be found. I won't give any specific spots because I don't need to. There were nice bars, holes and edges all over the park. As is typical of the park, the nicer stuff was north of area 23, but even south of there had potential.

I noticed by the area 7 entrance three spots where it looked like trucks had been stuck. I can only assume that they were either new to driving the beach, or assumed they didn't think needed to air down this early in the season. I'm hoping this is not an omen for the rest of the year.

I stopped at the jetty and got out to take a look around. The jetty itself looked no different, so I decided to walk back and see how the bulkhead and sand replenishment project fared. The bulkhead was leaning over a little more in the middle, but was essentially the same. Behind the bulkhead was a different story.

The last I had seen of the sand replenishment project was a quick glance while running through the inlet on the boat last November. There was a low spot in the sand barrier that the Army COE had built up to protect the sedges. This low spot looked like it might have washed over at high tide, but there was no water running through at the time. Now, there is a big gaping hole in that spot. The geotube used to stabilize the sandbar is exposed on either side of the hole. I'm not sure where it went in the middle of the hole. The water here was definitely too deep to walk across. The COE changed the template of Barnegat Inlet last year, and it looks like Mother Nature is trying to put I back. My favorite fishing spot was buried in that project last year, so I'm kinda routing for Mother Nature.

Happy Foxes

From here I left the beach at area 23. There were a dozen people walking around, most with cameras. One lady was trying to shoot a fox with a 2 foot long telephoto lens. The fox was only 10 feet away. She kept moving away and the fox kept closing the distance. She looked frustrated. The fox, however, was just looking for a handout, and seemed happy the human population in the park was rising again. I'm still wondering how her pictures of fox nostrils came out.

Bayside

I proceeded down to the kayak access point at area 15. I wanted to see what the bayside was looking like. Another photographer was there shooting scenic photos of the bay. We were soon joined by a ranger, who was just passing through. I spoke with the photographer about fishing for a few minutes, and, after he left, decided to get some fly casting practice in. The wind was coming from the south, so I suited up and waded out knee deep. I spent about 15 minutes casting to the north. I tied on my own (poor) rendition of Gene Quigley's baby angel. Even my version looked nice in the water. My casting, that still needs work, lots of work.

So I stood there, knee deep in Barnegat Bay, looking north, wind behind me, sun setting over my left shoulder, fly rod in my hand. A deep breathe, a sigh, and I thought to myself, "John, you've got it pretty good."

Until next week...