Last week I didn’t post at all because I was busy roughing it in the Canadian wilderness. Mike and I spent the week fishing with his parents, who have been driving around the country for three years now in their suped-up RV (talk about a HeSo project!).
Now let me make this clear: I had never been fishing before. The thought of impaling a worm on a hook so that I can sit around for a few hours and wait for a bite filled me with anxiety and guilt. Yet, fishing was an important part of my husband’s childhood, so I really wanted to get a better sense of what draws people to this past time.
I am not a morning person, but waking up at 5 am, trudging through icy water to get to the boat, and holding on to your thermos of coffee like it’s your lifeline, was surprisingly fun. Being a New York City girl, I hardly ever feel alone when I’m outside. If I want a taste of nature, I end up in Central Park where a three piece bands is playing Take Five, kids are screaming, tourists are asking me for directions, and some guy is trying to sell me $4 water. Out on the lake, the water was absolutely still, we were the only people out, and it was blissfully quiet.
I really wanted to prove that I wasn’t a sissy, but the truth is I am a sissy. For the life if me, I could not bring myself to put the writhing worm on the hook. Mike and his mom took turns hooking my bait. At first I caught a bunch of these little guys:
We had to throw these back in the water because they were too small. Then we caught some bigger fish. I tried with all my might to hold the fish for picture time, but they were too gross and unpredictable. My father-in-law had to hold up the fish in each of my pictures:
Mike was a natural at fishing:
Eventually I got the hang of it:
The best part of this fishing trip was that we got to eat fresh fish every night. The worst part about eating fresh fish every night is that you have to gut and skin the fish. Yuk! I have a whole new appreciation for the perfect fillets of fish in the supermarket.
So now that I’m back home, and no longer smelling of fish, would I do it all again? I quickly realized that fishing is not about the fish at all – it’s about slowing down your pace, your expectations, and your thoughts. One day you can catch 20 fish, and the next day you can catch nothing but seaweed. While the underwater tug-of-war is exhilarating, it’s the hours of staring off into the wilderness that felt like an exotic experience for me. Having nothing to do but just observe, and relax, was a vacation in of itself. So, yes, I would go fishing again.
- Bass Pursuit – Lake Minnetonka (justinlundborgfishing.wordpress.com)
- 7-21-13 – Panfish And A Drum (dbiceadventures.wordpress.com)
- Fishing Season Hits Full Swing in Montana (prweb.com)
- Gone Fishin ” in Seattle (apartmentguide.com)