2: Number of cigars I smoked, a Gispert Churchill on the drive down to Rhode Island, and an H. Upmann 2000 Reserve corona gorda on the way back to Connecticut.
5 and 9: The weight rod and line I used. Perfect for the tight confines of the first spot we fished. I could load the rod with a minimum of line, and shoot the rest with a flick of the wrist.
7 and 9: The weight rod and line Jon used.
1: Number of stripers we caught in the first spot (Jon was the successful angler).
4,957: Number of weeds I hooked in the first spot. At least it seemed like that many.
I fished a September Night variant; instead of a white marabou collar, this has one turn of yellow under two turns of ginger. The September Night is a flatwing/soft-hackle hybrid, and one of my favorite striper flies.
1: Number of stripers we saw in the second spot. Jon noticed a wrinkle on the surface in the moonlight. As we worked our way along the bank, I felt a quick little bap! And then he was gone. Other than seeing a few silversides and a juvenile fluke, the place was as dead as Julius Caesar.
86: My heart rate when we got to our last stop and saw a couple fish feeding out in the current.
10: As we were already well past our cutoff of 11pm, our agreed-upon time limit, in minutes, to catch a striper.
1: Number of bass we caught. (My turn.)
2: Happy anglers who made the drive home to Connecticut.