What fishin means to me...

Grand kids....
Nine of them.
Who's gonna pass on how to fish, iffen I don't do it? Like my Daddy passed on skills to me, it is my time to pass on the skills and the wonder and love of the out doors. My time.. and My Duty!
Most of the time we catch and release, but sometimes we have to feast.
During the 6 1/2 hour trek acrossed the desert to the Colorado River, Grandma asleep, and his Sister asleep, Chase settled into an easy chair and said...
"What's fish taste like?"
"Well, it tastes like fish. And really good if it's fixed right. Why?"
Yeah. But what does it taste like?"
Not wanting to scare him off I said, "Well, it kinda tastes like chicken. You like chicken, right?"
"Yeah." He said methodically.
"Why?" I asked.
"Well... I'd like to catch a fish....and eat it. (Long pauses in his words, I knew he was making a big transition here).
He fed all of us that would partake in one fine bass dinner with some left over for breakfast.
A right of passage took place on that trip. A boy took a huge step forward towards becoming a man who could subsist on the land and waters.
He'd caught fish before, but shied away from actually eating any.
And although we release about all we ever catch, he knows now that he can catch and eat if he need be.
And his Sister learned why we fish as well... But she won't eat....

My Daddy taught me and my 4 Sisters. And I'm handin it on down the line.
  1. chases bass 4 2007 001
  2. Clearlake Trip. The kids caught some Bluegills. 
Good dinner that night!
  3. Jordan with her small mouth bass. 8 years old.
  4. Chase with his first trout. 5 years old.
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