By John Clise
As memories go with me… most of my best ones center around fishing.
My dad took me fishing as I can remember. I suspect even before I can remember I was perched shore side with dad fishing with his infant son at his said.
I remember my first reel was a big red one with a closed face. The gears were heavy like the pole. It was black and white.
I clearly the remember the day we took the 16 pound test lines off and put eight pound test on. It was the last time I was never to use heavier than eight pound test again. I was about seven years old when dad said I was ready to change it over.
Dad and I tool fishing trips to Missouri a couple of years in a row with a group of his friends whose kids I was also friends with. We caught the biggest fish both years and weren’t invited back the third year. I think they were intimidated by our fishing skills.
I still have our tackle box. It has our names written in marker on it. That was my handy work. It still has many of the same lures in it. And a few new ones but not many.
Dad’s been gone 16 years. It’s still difficult to think about getting a new lure without him. Plus the ones we had still work just fine. Still catching fish with them. Or it could be the skills dad instilled in me as a fisherman. I see lots of guys buying new lures every five minutes and they still can’t catch a fish to save their lives.
My dad got me a new fishing pole for high school graduation in 1984. I still have the pole only with a different reel. The same asshole who broke my reel also broke my trout fishing pole my dad got me when I was 15. A yellow eagle claw pole. It was a dandy. I still have it minus the tip.
Again, i suspect the asshole in question was intimidated by my superior fishing skills. 😀 I could have outfished him with a ball of twine and a safety pin.
But to move on from the positive to the negative. I remember dad was always teaching me something about being a better fisherman even as an adult. He had seemed to have limitless knowledge of fishing.