A 100-year old maple tree dangled from a run-down railroad trestle. "The water was really high last week," Dave, my fishing partner, astutely noticed. Thirty feet below, a chocolate river churned. My first attempt at shad fishing on the legendary Delaware River already looked to be a bust and we hadn't even left Dave's car. The water level had dropped, but I couldn't imagine any fish would be able to see a lure through the brown velvet folding around blow-downs and submerged rocks.