Fishing is addictive. I know some of you don't get it, and that's cool, but for me, there's just something about sitting on the water's edge, watching a bobber, that relaxes me. And if something bites, well, that's even better. It's me against the fish. Will I set the hook quick enough to catch it? Or will it steal my bait? Fun stuff.
One of earliest memories is fishing with Dad. I don't remember a whole lot of it - I was like 5-6 and I lost a lot of my childhood memories in the Great Head Injury of 1994. I do remember sitting on the bank of Kearsley Creek with my rod (Dad's rod that he was letting me use) set up on a Y stick, watching the bobber. And then someone said something about food. While I was distracted, a fish took the bait... and then the whole rod and reel, right down the creek. Man, was Dad mad. Mom said yesterday that she thinks Dad was more mad about the potentially large fish we didn't catch than the lost rod. ;o)
The other day I bought a new pole. One with a closed reel like I used when I was a kid. And it's pink. Because having a pretty pink fishing pole amuses me. We took it out on Tuesday. I still like the other rod I use, but this one is cool and nostalgic.
Any this n that for me today? Any fishing stories? Do you even care?
My dad liked to fish. We used to go out to stock ponds on the ranches of friends. I used a cane pole and a bobber. Then Dad discovered trout fishing. Every trip to Colorado involved a stream, fly casting, and trout. I remember one summer, we overheard the Fish & Game guys talk about dumping a load of trout into the stream feeding the lake where our campground was located. By the time we got back to the Airstream and loaded up fishing gear, it was raining. We stood under the bridge where the stream fed into the lake and to make it sporting, I picked out a specific trout and Dad had to catch it. Any other trout was released. It was a fun afternoon. Dad would be 98 his next birthday. Hard to believe he's been gone 20 years. :/
ReplyDeleteI've never been fishing, either with or without my Dad. His passion was golf and he tried to teach me. According to him I was quite good when I was about 9, but sadly I wasn't really interested. My Dad would have been 77 in January.
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