This morning I was in the garage looking for a lawnmower part for my son-in-law. He studied the three rod-racks (15 per rack), seven or eight tackle bags, the many storage boxes of miscellaneous spare baits and assorted fishing related doo-dads for quite a while. Now he’s no new addition to the family, he’s been married to my daughter for five years.

He asked me ‘the question’, you know it, most likely have heard it yourself more than once.

“Why on earth do you love fishing so much? Just how much money have you sunk into all that stuff? You can’t fish with more than one rod at a time.”

I calmly explained that tackle is tool, each piece has a specific application. He works with tools, it was easy to explain that aspect. He understood my comparison to driving a screw with a hammer, it can be done, but not very well.

The money question was a little harder, I had to admit I had no idea. Several thousand dollars minimum. Then I showed him an old double groove side-plate Ambassaduer 5000C. Told him a I bought it in 1969 for 60 dollars, and still used it from time to time. Now sixty bucks in 1969 was a goodly chunk of change for a newly married working stiff. Though if you amortized the cost over 35 years it isn’t too bad. I learned early from my Gramps to get the absolute best you could afford and take good care of it. Then when the time came for it to take care of you it could be counted on to do what was needed.

He understood that also.

The first question was the one that got me tongue tied,

Why?

I’ve been fishing as long as I can remember. The very first clear memory I have is sitting in a wooden home-built flat bottom with my Gramps while he ran his trotline. I honestly can say that time spent with a rod in my hand is the best way to live I can think of. I like the feel of fine tackle in my hand, it’s more fun that rolling around in a pile of hundred dollar bills. I like the smell of lake water, the touch of sunlight, the mist on the lake at first light. The sound of a good reel slipping line onward in search of an elusive prey goes a long way too. And the wildlife, the elemental wonder of the world around me. Yeah, twenty feet of two-hundred horsepower fuel injection powered fiberglass is fun thing to steer across a rippled lake. All the high-tech gadgets and gew-gaws are fun too. But that isn’t the center of a day on the water, nor the friendships formed, continued and refreshed there. Though those are very important

Is it the endless quest for the thrill of outwitting a bundle of finely honed instinct surrounded by scales?

Partly.

After thinking the question over all day I can honestly answer the question as well as possible.

I don’t know why.


But in the words of Robert Traver in his wonderful book Trout Madness* “The true fisherman approaches the first day of fishing with all the sense of wonder and awe of a child approaching Christmas.”

The day I don’t pick up a rod and not feel that internal thrill, I’ll take up basket weaving, or worse - Golf.

But for now ... and until I am no longer able, I'm going to fish every chance I get.

Everyone have a great year, and may all your bites be big ones.

Richard

*St Martins Press, Copyrighted 1960 R Traver, Library of Congress Catalog Card No 60:12885*
*Personal note - If you love fishing it’s a wonderful read, humorous, thoughtful and a perspective on fishing that often gets forgotten in these hurried harried days. I have an original edition, reread it often. No matter his preferred quarry wouldn’t make good striper bait. :D*