"Gone Fishing"

Many years ago while I was still living at home, my mom bought me a "gone fishing" sign that I hung from my bedroom door.  At this point in my life, I was doing one of about 4 things.  I was either at work, hanging out with friends, hunting with friends or most likely I was out fishing with friends.  For a while, fishing was all I thought about and looking back, I have so many good memories that are wrapped around fishing trips.

Most of these fishing trips were impromptu events.  I'd either be at work or at home and the phone would ring.  It'd likely be my buddy Horton.  "Hey Prick, you want to go fishing?" he'd ask.  "Yeah, I'm off in an hour.  Let me gather my stuff and I'll be right over."  We'd go to pick up that Carter kid and head out to Vegas Wash or one of our other haunts and fish all of that afternoon and well into the night.  Sometimes we slayed them, other times we sat around and laughed our asses off.  Nothing too special, just a bunch of buds out screwing around.

All of this started for me when I was much younger.  My dad used to bring me to the lake, in the boat, in my bassinet.  He'd rig the bassinet up in a fashion where he could either rock me with his foot or bump me with his knee and keep casting plugs into the brush for bass.

Later, that evolved into me getting my first fishing rod.  It was a blue colored Abu-Garcia with a Mitchell open faced spinning reel, probably with about 6-8 lb. test line on it.  I started to learn how to tie knots, how to handle live bait, how to cast and since then, I don't think I turned down an opportunity to be on a boat with the old man.

Somewhere between the bassinet on the boat days and learning to do these things for myself, I got to spend some time with my grandpa and great grandpa fishing everywhere between Las Vegas to Idaho to Nebraska.

Right before my grandpa retired, he bought a motor home.  We all hopped in to go to Idaho for a week of visiting relatives and fishing.  All of the relatives were older folks and I can't even recall their names.  Family was and still is important, but I remember starting to ask, "Are we going fishing yet?' before we even got out of the driveway in Las Vegas.

We finally made it to Lewiston, Idaho.  Seemed like it took days.  We pulled up to this cabin in the woods that sat about 100 yards away from a small lake.  I looked at my grandpa and great grandpa and asked, "Now are we going fishing?"

We went over to greet these relatives and grandpa excused us so we could make a quick trip down to the lake.  In a matter of a couple of minutes, I caught my first trout.  Then another, then another.  It seemed like every cast I was reeling in something.  That night we ate some trout cooked over the camp fire and my great grandpa told me that he had a secret spot he was going to sneak me into at first light.

Most of my family was kind of full of shit.  Great grandpa wasn't, as best I could tell.  I woke up that next morning and had mom get me into my overalls and get my hat on my head.  I ran over to the cabin where great grandpa was and knocked on the door.  There he was, ready to fish and dressed for success!  He had this old hat with a dozen or so flies and lures stuck to it.  He had a look in his eye that to me said, "We're going to get 'em."  He looked down and said, "You ready boy?" and off we went.

I thought I was in for this big adventure.  Fact of the matter was, great grandpa didn't want to get too far from the motor home, just in case he had to turn me back over to mom for some reason.  But there we were.  Great grandpa turned over a couple of milk crates and told me to take a seat.  He sat next to me and started telling me some fishing stories of this very lake, many years earlier.  All I wanted to know is if they caught anything.

Great grandpa cast my rod into a good spot and told me to watch the bobber.  As soon as he got ready to cast his rod, I had a fish on.  He was coaching me on how to real the fish in.  It was a monster!  I started laughing, he started laughing and we thought we were going to wake everyone in camp up.  When I got the fish close to the bank grandpa said, "Back up and drag him through the weeds."  I start backing up and all of a sudden, there was Moby Dick flopping around.  I couldn't believe it.  I looked at grandpa and he said, "Let me get the hook out of his mouth, then you have to put him on the stringer."

Grandpa removes the hook and sets the fish back on the ground.  He whispers, "Well, get him."  I bend over and pick the fish up around the belly with my small hands and he squirts out the other side.  I do it again and again with the same result, each time making the old timer laugh harder and harder.  He leans forward and says, "Get him by the mouth."  I looked at him.  The information seemed legit so I reached forward, jammed my thumb into the trouts mouth and stood up.  When I stood up, the fish clamped down...  it didn't hurt but startled me, so I kind of jumped and dropped the fish.  Its so quiet out that great grandpa whispered, "What happened?"  I looked at him and said, "The son of a bitch bit me!"

Great grandpa fell off the milk crate laughing.  I thought I killed the poor old guy.  My grandpa came out of the motor home laughing his ass off.  My grandma came out with her hand over her mouth trying not to laugh and my mother came out with tears in her eyes from laughing.  Next thing I know, the cabin door opened.  A couple other old people came out laughing, so there I sit with a smile on my mug wondering what in the hell was so funny.  We laughed for at least a half an hour.

Mom gathered me up told me that I wasn't allowed to swear, probably especially around great grandpa.  I thought that was odd because he appeared to have the most fun with the whole experience.

I'll never forget that.  I heard the story probably at least 100 times from my grandpa and great grandpa and it got funnier every time trying to watch them get through the story and maintain their composure.  I bet I told the story at least another 100 times and hope I live long enough to tell it 100 more.  I've taken my kids fishing and hope to be able to take some grand kids fishing one day.

If you don't have a good time fishing, you're doing it wrong.  Whether it be with family, friends or by yourself, fishing is about having a good time.  I believe its what fishing was invented for.  Get out of town, get in the sticks, get on the water and relax.  Take it all in.  Bring a friend, bring your kid, bring the wife... just get out and go fishing!