Took awhile but I've finally resolved my fishing problems, at least here in the city. Some years ago I bought what was in those ancient days, a near, state of the art, float tube. Back then I didn't as yet have a solo canoe so the tube became my go to when it came to fishing by myself.
She's an old fashioned, donut shaped affair and not easy to propel. If you're thinking about crossing a small lake or bay, forget about it. Flippers on feet while sitting in a fancy truck inner tube move a body along at speeds measured in feet per hour. But if it's possible to enter the water at a good looking location, a float tube will get you off the shore and just maybe into some fish.
If that doesn't butter my bread there's always the chest waders I wear when tube fishing. Wade fishing is one of those time honored things a body can do while whipping a fly rod. Throw in another upside, that of the mix of fish swimming in local waters, and I've got some real possibilities.
Ever the sceptic, I'll add a maybe to that. And tack on the falling water temperatures of fall. There's always long johns.
While up at the cabin last week I learned a forty-seven year old, fiberglass rod still casts like it's new. And carries an air of familiarity and youth with it. The rod is one of the two I bought on ebay, a Heddon Mark IV with the plastic wrapping still on the handle. Has a slow action and she lays down line in a way that brings back memories of being seventeen again. Throwing bass poppers with it is enough fun to take my mind off getting skunked, almost.