Fishing

I have loved to fish ever since I was a small child. I can still remember the first time my father took me fishing. We were sitting on a concrete bridge abutment over an inlet to a large lake watching the bobbers float in the gently rippling water. My attention would soon wander as I watched traffic on the nearby road or the colorful boats motoring by on the lake. Suddenly my dad would grab my pole and yank it upright to hook a small bluegill or sunfish that had been tugging my line all around the inlet. I soon learned that it was more fun to watch that bobber so I could hook my own fish.

A few years later, I would ride my bicycle for several miles to a city park with my fishing rod across the handlebars. There were several picturesque ponds used for ice skating in the winter but stocked with fish each summer for kids like me. I would spend the entire day feeding my hard won earthworms, painstakingly spaded out of the dirt behind the garage, to the hungry fish. Occasionally I would even catch one.

As a teenager, as all teenagers do, I ran around with friends who shared similar interests to mine. Therefore it is not surprising that I would go fishing with many of my friends. One friend had a fairly large pond in his backyard that they kept stocked with fish; I guess his dad was a fisherman too. On trips to his house to either fish or to play basketball in his driveway, I often noticed a long bamboo pole leaning against a tree near the pond. One day, having gotten bored with my spincasting, I took a closer look at the bamboo pole. It was about 14 feet long, very springy, and someone had tied about 25 feet of heavy green string to the end. I realized that this string was actually flyline from a fly casting rod. Never having tried fly fishing, I dug through my tackle box to find a fly that I had found somewhere and clipped it to the end of the line. Not having a clue what I was doing, I flipped that line back and forth several times and finally got it out in the middle of the pond. Almost immediately, I got a strike and caught a fairly good sized bluegill with the makeshift fly rod. I released the fish... but I was hooked. From that day forward, I preferred fishing with flies rather than worms.

For many years, I enjoyed informal fly fishing although I never really got into the more advanced elements that the truly ardent fly fishermen find so challenging. But I had a lot of fun and I caught a lot of fish. Sadly, a few years ago, my home was flooded and all my fishing rods, fly and spincasting alike, were destroyed. Since placing the remains of my once proud fishing tackle into the dumpster, I have not held a fishing rod in my hands.

Well that just changed. A good friend, who, to my knowledge, never fished before in his life, just went out and bought a fly fishing outfit. Wow! That hook on the bamboo pole from those many years ago is still there and tugged hard. He seems to be really enjoying learning the sport, and my delight is all coming back too. This weekend I went out and bought a new rod and reel! The fishing license comes next and then some practice to (hopefully) bring back some of the forgotten skills. This is going to be fun.

To be continued...