Hi Families!
Greetings from Housatonic Meadows in the beautiful Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts and Connecticut. The trip has been off to a hot start! The weather has been great, the fishing solid, and spirits are high. After airport day, we headed north to the North Shore of Massachusetts and set up camp at Winter Island. This area is rich in both excellent fishing and early American history. It was special to spend the 4th of July where our country began, and to teach the boys about the people who came before them—both on and off the water.
Located on the rocky coast of Salem, Winter Island sits smack dab in the middle of some of the best striped bass fishing in the world. The hallowed waters off Salem Harbor gave the group a phenomenal start. Early in the morning, the boys boarded their charter boats and motored out to the striper grounds, where they found huge schools of large, aggressive bass feeding on the surface. Every camper hooked into a nice fish, with some reeling in true trophies over 40 inches. It was a morning to remember.
While catch and release is at the heart of our program, sometimes Mother Nature has other plans. One of the stripers didn’t survive after being released, and—after measuring to ensure it was legal—we made the decision to keep the fish for a meal. It was a meaningful moment, and we used it to teach the group the importance of respecting the life of any animal they harvest. The boys learned how to properly clean, handle, and appreciate the fish so that its life could nourish our own. Lessons like these stick with them far beyond the trip.
After charter day, we packed up and hit the road toward the Berkshires. We arrived at camp just in time to squeeze in an evening fishing session along the riverbank. The smallmouth bass were hungry and eager to eat, keeping everyone busy for a few hours and putting a healthy bend in the 5-weights after a long day on the road.
Back at camp, we cooked up a 4th of July feast—ravioli, sausage, and ice cream sundaes for dessert. It might not have been the most traditional celebration meal, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. We capped off the night with great conversation and plenty of laughs around the campfire.
Saturday morning started with a hearty pancake breakfast before loading the canoe trailer and heading upstream in search of northern pike. As I write this from the banks of the river, the toothy critters have so far managed to elude us—besides a break-off and a few follows—but the bass are still keeping lines tight and smiles wide. The group is learning, growing, and having a blast. Fingers crossed the pike decide to play this afternoon!
Talk to you soon!
—Sean, Gavin, Leo, the Dream Team, and the Lost Boys
