Monday, September 19, 2011

Fishing: It's Like Riding a Bike

Once upon a time there was a cute little boy who loved to fish.  And not the wimpy kind of Velveeta-on-the-hook/ catch-any-fish-that-comes-along kind of fishing.  No.  Even as a little boy he did manly man fishing with grown up tied flies as the bait.  The kind of fishing that is an art form of trying to get the fly to land just perfectly on the water, so that all the fishies really think there is a fly landing gently on the water just waiting for them to eat.  After a few hours of his artful fishing was done and he had a few keeper trouts on the line, he would bring them back to the cabin for Grandma to fry up and eat for dinner.   No one, not even his own mother, could replicate the perfectly seasoned fried trout of his Grandma Loughton. 

When the boy grew up, he capitalized on his future wife's great love of the outdoors and penchant for men in tan vests, and wooed her with his he-man fishing skills every chance he got.  Of course he knew that his wooing would be in vain if he didn't let her have some of the fun herself, so being the gentleman that he was, he would let her reel in the big ones and then brag to everyone later about the big ones she almost caught. 

Later on, the starry eyed woman caught the biggest and best fish of her life when he asked her to be his fishing partner forever and ever. 

Fast forward a move that brought them a long way from the Rocky Mountain trout streams where he grew up and an unfortunate adult onset seafood allergy later, and it can be said that fishing has taken a back seat in that fish-loving boy's life.   

BUT.....

fishing is like riding a bike....

it never leaves you....

You put that boy back in the mountains.  Back to Macks Inn in Island Park. 


and it all comes right back to him lickety split. 

and just as thrilling as reeling in a big one of his own, he is thrilled to be passing on his love of fishing to his own children...



Hours and hours of our time in Idaho was spent fishing the crystal clear waters of Henry's Fork,


even by boat....


and when given a choice of activities for the day, invariably the kids would eagerly choose a day of fishing over anything else. 

What about me, you ask?  Do I like to fish? 

Well, I do like to document fish stories. 

You know, so the whole world can see the BIG one that we let go...


and this fierce looking fellow that almost pulled Adam into the water. 
Yep, me and my camera.  Pretty much we're  every fisherman's worst nightmare. 


************

2 comments:

gg said...

Thanks, Babes. This post is a breath of fresh air and I will look at this one often. I definitely concur that this is my element. I love seeing all of the smiling faces on our kids - that's what fishing's all about!

Steve-Rosanna said...

Great post and an obvious fond memory for Glenn-o! Memories that your children will never forget and treasure for the rest of their lives. No matter what this long road trip may have cost you, the results and memories will always be...priceless!

Thanks again for your hospitality and inviting us along.

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