by Uncle Wes, March 01, 2003

As I sit here and prepare my tackle and get everything in order for my fishing adventure tomorrow, I think back to 36 years ago. That’s when my dad put a bucket in the middle of the yard and tied a rubber weight on the end of my line. I can still hear him telling me that when I can make most of my cast’s into the bucket, then I will be ready to go fishing with him. For me like most kids my dad was a god. For him to take me fishing would be a dream come true. So this challenge he put before me was an honor, a chance to prove myself a worthy fishing partner. Needless to say I practiced everyday after school and weekends for 2 weeks. I had finally mastered this skill, a great feat for a young man. I remember waiting for him to come home from work so I could show him what a master of this skill I had become. As soon as he got home I ushered him outside to prove my worthiness. I had 10 casts to make, I remember putting 9 right in the bucket and bouncing one off the bucket. I remember the father’s pride he had in his eyes as he patted me on the back and said we would go trout fishing that weekend.

That was four whole days away and I don’t think I slept a wink for those four days. Finally after all of the agony and anticipation the big day had arrived. After getting up quite early and eating breakfast packing our lunch and getting my very own thermos full of hot chocolate we were ready. I remember the trip seemed like it took forever, but finally we arrived. This lake seemed huge, we picked our spot and got our fishing sticks to prop our rods on and then cast our lines out. I remember he explained to me how I would know if I had a bite and that I had to watch my rod and be on the ready. I can’t tell you how happy, excited and proud I was to be there side by side with my dad fishing just like a man. I must have watched my rod for an hour (which seemed like an eternity) before I got my first bite. He explained to me that as soon as he said “now” I was to set the hook and start reeling. As soon as he said the word, I set the hook and the trout must have come out of the water 3 or 4 times. As I reeled this, my first fish in, I remember the pride and excitement I felt. When I got him up on the beach I remember seeing that bright red band down its side, it was a beauty. My dad took the hook out and put him on the stringer.

I must have checked him out a 100 times, admiring my very first trout. What a thrill for me. I was now officially a fisherman. By the end of the day we had caught our limits, and started the long trek home. I remember getting home and showing them off to my mom and giving her a fish by fish description of how each one fought and how many times they jumped. I can still remember the smile on my folks face as I described each one. I know I was bursting with pride. I had gone out many times after that with my dad and always had a good time. He was in the Air Force so we had the opportunity to fish in many places for all different kinds of fish. But trout fishing has always been my first love. I often think of the many trips I had taken with him and remember each one of them fondly. I never got the chance to fish with him in my adult years; he passed away 28 years ago this month. I will always remember our times together. So for some of you that have kids take them out and share those special times with them. They will remember those times spent with you, and for you guy’s that have the opportunity to take your dad out fishing with you and create some new memories, just do it. Enjoy each other’s company and remember times past. I think that you will find it very rewarding.