Fishing is probably the most enjoyed sport, in the entire world. It isn't always about the fish that you catch or bring home. Although it is always a plus if you can prove to mama that you actually went fishing. I am sure some of you can relate. How many times have you gone home empty-handed, for me, it was more times then I care to remember. But that is another story. When we were young, for those of us that were lucky enough to have a dad, that enjoyed the sport of fishing, many memories, were no doubt created. Now that I have been fishing for 40 years, I understand why dad would only go fishing on certain days of the year. These things that dad knew about fishing, always troubled me as a child, because I wanted to go fishing everyday. Fishing here, in what us folks around here call, Gods Country, was and still is a challenge. The misquitoes and blackflies, horseflies, and last but not least the mooseflies, will test your sanity. As a child, I didn't seem to notice them to much. Of course, dad always had his trusty non-filtered camel cigarette lit. I realize now, why he was always trying to get me to stay close to him, as I always wanted to fish over there. It always seemed like the best place to fish was over there. Surely you remember. Dad was always looking out for us kids, he took us out to alot of his favorite fishing holes. He always told me, every spring, no need to go fishing, untill the leaves on the alder bush, get as big as a mouses ear. More wisdom, that I began to appreciate, as I grew older. Dad, somehow, seemed to know everything there was to know about fishing. It always amazed me, that we could be fishing at one of dads fishing holes, and not be catching a thing. Then, it was almost like magic, the fish would start to bite. He even knew when the fish were going to feed. Most avid fisherman, refer to this time period, as the witching hour. It's that last bit of daylight that is available to us, after the sunsets. And then, there is that favorite hole that won't generally produce a trout on a sunny day, untill you jump in and stir the mud up in the bottom of the streambed. It is little things like these that I remember most. As a child I used to wonder, how could he know so much. Now-a-days I reflect on fishing in a whole new light. It isn't about the fish that you bring home, its about the memories you create, while you are there. So in closing, I would like to say this. Take a child fishing, whether it is your own child or someone elses. You will be creating memories that cannot be replaced by any other sport. Not only will you profit by it, but you will be teaching them, success in fishing, isn't always, about the fish, that you bring home. |
