SOME THOUGHTS ON REGRESSION
OK maybe I am too young to be regressing to my childhood. Or perhaps my friends would disagree. But I did catch this fish the other day on Lake Murray and it reminded me that the first fish I ever caught was a sunfish with my late grandfather Ralph E. Wood. Now I am not a famous outdoor writer in the style of A.J. McClane or Ted Trueblood so bear with me on this.
That would be Grandfather on my mother's side called affectionately "Bulldaddies". I have no idea why? But he was a fisherman and I was a five year old with a metal fishing pole and no mentor to put me on the water to chase Sir Isaac Walton's dreams. My own father was of the age that needed to earn a living for a growing family and that was OK. Fathers are for that sort of thing and grandfathers for the other sort of thing.
Bulldaddies was a stern just out of Victorian era kind of guy who still had the razor strap he maintained at the dinner table for misbehaving children, and you did things his way or else. That was the way I learned how to fish. And as such I caught the sunfish and he caught the trout because I just had not learn the principles of the appropriate way to fish. All that on the Brandywine river in eastern Pennsylvania. There has been allot of water under my dam ever since .... bless his soul. I learned how to fish and the proper way. I learned about artificials for bass, trout, salmon, and salt water critters. I learn how to make artificials and tie fies. I learned about conservation long before it became politically correct to be green.........which in my opinion has nothing to do with conserving and everything to do with a socialist power play.
But here I am full wheel 64 years later catching a sunfish again. And you know what? It was fun!
A seven foot fly rod, nine foot leader, and a Woolly Bugger fly fished slowly along the shore. The bait could have been a Royal Coachman dry fly, or a little Supervisor streamer fly, or a wet fly of any name or number as long as it looked like something these guys like to eat.
Little guy fought hard as well he should. He was not the largest one I caught over the space of an hour on the lake, but he did use his broad configuration to his advantage to pull against the line. He had no idea what was happening and thought that he was going to die for all he knew. I knew he was going back into the water, but he didn't. All I wanted was a picture and a little story. Amazing the memories a simple act such as this can conjure up.
Now, in six days I will have two grand children at the same spot on this lake with fishing rods in their hands and perhaps between swims on the beach and hamburgers on the grill, there might be a memory or two on the end of the line for one of them.
OK maybe I am too young to be regressing to my childhood. Or perhaps my friends would disagree. But I did catch this fish the other day on Lake Murray and it reminded me that the first fish I ever caught was a sunfish with my late grandfather Ralph E. Wood. Now I am not a famous outdoor writer in the style of A.J. McClane or Ted Trueblood so bear with me on this.
That would be Grandfather on my mother's side called affectionately "Bulldaddies". I have no idea why? But he was a fisherman and I was a five year old with a metal fishing pole and no mentor to put me on the water to chase Sir Isaac Walton's dreams. My own father was of the age that needed to earn a living for a growing family and that was OK. Fathers are for that sort of thing and grandfathers for the other sort of thing.
Bulldaddies was a stern just out of Victorian era kind of guy who still had the razor strap he maintained at the dinner table for misbehaving children, and you did things his way or else. That was the way I learned how to fish. And as such I caught the sunfish and he caught the trout because I just had not learn the principles of the appropriate way to fish. All that on the Brandywine river in eastern Pennsylvania. There has been allot of water under my dam ever since .... bless his soul. I learned how to fish and the proper way. I learned about artificials for bass, trout, salmon, and salt water critters. I learn how to make artificials and tie fies. I learned about conservation long before it became politically correct to be green.........which in my opinion has nothing to do with conserving and everything to do with a socialist power play.
But here I am full wheel 64 years later catching a sunfish again. And you know what? It was fun!
A seven foot fly rod, nine foot leader, and a Woolly Bugger fly fished slowly along the shore. The bait could have been a Royal Coachman dry fly, or a little Supervisor streamer fly, or a wet fly of any name or number as long as it looked like something these guys like to eat.
Little guy fought hard as well he should. He was not the largest one I caught over the space of an hour on the lake, but he did use his broad configuration to his advantage to pull against the line. He had no idea what was happening and thought that he was going to die for all he knew. I knew he was going back into the water, but he didn't. All I wanted was a picture and a little story. Amazing the memories a simple act such as this can conjure up.
Now, in six days I will have two grand children at the same spot on this lake with fishing rods in their hands and perhaps between swims on the beach and hamburgers on the grill, there might be a memory or two on the end of the line for one of them.
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