From Pandemic Adjustments to a Frosty Fishing Mission
After three long years of strict pandemic controls, the sudden shift in policies hit me like a ton of bricks. Wuxi had always been ahead of the curve with COVID prevention—we did over 100 rounds of free mass testing in 2024 alone, all thanks to everyone’s discipline and cooperation. But when they stopped checking health codes, travel records, and switched paid, voluntary testing last week, I felt totally exposed, like walking around without a coat in a blizzard.
Sure enough, COVID cases popped up everywhere faster than dandelions in spring. Schools switched to online classes, and I’ve been clinging to Dr. Zhong’s advice like a lifeline: delay infection as long as possible. So I stocked up on masks, Lianhua Qingwen, and antigen tests. Better safe than sorry, right? But even with all that, I still needed my weekly fishing fix—nothing beats being out by the water to clear my head.
Chasing the Bite in Sub-Zero Temperatures
Last Sunday was the second day of a brutal cold snap, with a low of -4°C (24.8°F)—the first time it’s dropped that far this year. Did I care? Not one bit. I got up at my usual ungodly hour, made breakfast (a warm congee and two eggs, classic pre-fuel), and started brainstorming my fishing spot. After weighing wind direction and fish density, I landed on my top-secret grass carp spot—never lets me down, mostly.
I pulled up to the spot at 6 a.m. The sky was still dark, though the east was starting to glow pink. The water looked unfrozen, but the mud under my boots was so hard it felt like walking on concrete. I first tossed out a handful of Dayuwang’s secret musk-scented rice to build a nest. Today’s setup: a 3.9m rod, leftover bait from the day before, and an electronic float for the dark. I planned to switch to a regular float once the sun came up.
The First Hour: Freezing My Tail Off with Zero Action
Let me tell you, the first hour was pure torture. My bait got zero bites, and even when I switched to red worms, all I could catch were tiny, annoying minnows that I couldn’t even hook properly. At first, I didn’t feel the cold—too focused on getting a bite. But after 60 minutes of nothing? I was freezing to the bone.
My hand towel turned into a stiff, frozen slab, my bait turned into an ice cube, and even my water bucket had a layer of ice on top. I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave! I was rubbing my hands together so hard I thought I’d start a fire, but nothing helped. I swear, this was worse than any COVID quarantine—at least indoors you’re warm!
Finally! A Bite Worth Freezing For
Thankfully, around 7 a.m., the fish finally decided to wake up. I slowly came back to life—still cold, but at least I had a reason to stay. Dealing with the frozen bait was a nightmare: I had to warm it up in my hands until it softened enough to shape. I stuck with the one red worm, one bait hook combo, even though the red worms were so frozen they crunched when I touched them.
By 8:30 a.m., I’d caught a few small white bass and tiny crucian carp—way smaller than the ones I usually get here. I was grumbling to myself, wondering if I’d wasted my morning, when suddenly my float popped up one full inch. I flicked my rod, and immediately felt that solid, heavy tug—this wasn’t a minnow.
I used a 0.6 main line and 0.3 leader, so I didn’t dare yank too hard. I reeled and let it run for three or five back-and-forth rounds. I didn’t even bother grabbing my net—just flipped it right onto the bank. When I picked it up, I could tell it was a monster: easily over 200g (7 oz), the biggest crucian carp I’ve ever caught at this spot! It was a little dark in color, but its scales were shiny and perfect. All that freezing was totally worth it!
The Rest of the Morning: Slow but Steady
After that big catch, I landed a few more regular-sized crucian carp, but nothing else exciting. By 9 a.m., the sun was out, but the wind was blowing so hard it was impossible to see my float clearly. My fingers were still numb, and my energy was starting to fade. I decided to call it a day—no point fighting the wind and cold when I already had my trophy catch.
My total catch wasn’t huge, but for a -4°C day? I was thrilled. Look at the bucket—there was even ice forming on the inside! And yes, I released all the fish back into the water, like I always do. My friend Chao kept teasing me, saying I was wasting a perfect fish for soup, but hey, I’d rather let it grow bigger for next time. Call me crazy, but I love seeing them swim away.
My Winter Fishing Tips (Learned the Hard Way)
After this freezing adventure, I’ve got a few key takeaways for anyone crazy enough to fish in sub-zero temps:
- Skip the early morning rush: Even if the water is unfrozen (thanks to being a flowing river, in my case), the first few hours are just too cold. Save yourself the pain and fish between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m., when the sun is highest.
- Treasure your go-to spots: My grass carp spot and the small sluice gate might not always give me trophy catches, but they never go totally quiet. In winter, you don’t need fancy spots—just reliable ones.
- Dress for the apocalypse: I thought I was prepared, but I was wrong. Next time, I’m bringing extra hand warmers, a waterproof jacket, and maybe even a portable heater (okay, maybe not that last one, but a guy can dream).
On my way home, I stopped to get some seedless strawberries for my daughter—her favorite way to end a cold day. Fishing in this weather really felt like going through a trial, but that big crucian carp? It was like being reborn. If you’re a fellow winter fishing fanatic, tell me about your craziest cold-weather fishing story in the comments. Stay warm, and tight lines!
