Embarrassing Photo by: Whoever was at the Gate 43 shed
It’s without a doubt one of the best things we take away from fishing is the memories. Even those with only a few years of fishing have already had a chance to earn memories on the water. For those of us who have fished for many years our memory banks are chalk full of things that have made us into the anglers, or people we are today.
Some days are obvious as being a day to remember. Days you may have caught your best fish, or a day you may have caught a ridiculous number of fish. But most cherished days you come to appreciate later tend to slip by you disguised as just another day on the water until one day you look back and realize just how important that day was.
Combing back through photos gave me the idea to write this post. I thought about all those memorable days I’ve had which have defined me and I wanted to share the oldest one I can remember.
The most vivid and earliest memory I have of fishing was when I was 10. I was sitting between my father and older brother on the bench seat of my father’s new Jeep Comanche truck. My brother had just gotten over being sick with chickenpox the previous week and we all thought somehow I had evaded the virus. We were headed out at first light to rent a boat on Quabbin Reservoir. It was a favorite trip we took only a couple of times a year. Half way there I found my first bubbly blister on the inside of my thigh. It was easy to spot in those rad 80’s short running shorts. I remember not wanting to tell my Dad when I discovered it because I didn’t want it to end the trip before we even arrived. The funny part is that when I did tell him, I remember the exact look on his face; part concern and part disappointment. He didn’t want it to end the trip either. He only asked, “are you ok” and “do you still want to go”. I remember smiling because I knew by his tone that he wouldn’t turn around and wanted to go just as much as I did. I just shook my head yes. That addiction to fishing is definitely in my DNA.