Fishing is one of those interesting efforts that for some is a solitary activity of reflection and for others a social one needing a friend to make it worthwhile.
In my case I fully admit requiring a friend along for the ride.
I can sit in my comfy lawn chair tossing cast after cast if the person I am travelling with is too far down the shore to converse with, but I still need someone along for the ride.
In the truck heading to water I like someone along to talk with.
It might be my better half, and while she might tell readers we don’t talk a lot, we are always commenting on this, that, and the proverbial other thing, even if the resulting conversation is not long, or in-depth.
On trips with buds, one to an ice hut coming to mind, the act of fishing can evolve into a few hands of cribbage, and that is as good as fishing anytime.
Most fishing trips of late however, have been with my son, and we share a range of hobbies. I like to think that was good parenting on my point. Others might suggest it was parental brainwashing at work. Either way it gives us a range of topics we can dissect as we head to water, while we wait for a small move of the rod tip while jigging for walleye, and on the return trip too.
We live in a strange world when you think about. He lives only a few blocks from me, a near straight show down a single street to be honest, and we live in a world where social media inundates almost everything we do, yet we always have things to talk about when we head out in the pursuit of fish.
So a recent trip to the popular Togo Bridge we sat and chatted, in the truck and at the shore for some four hours. That was the highlight of the trip to be honest, although seeing two whitetail does in belly high grass in the ditches was a nice dose of nature too.
The older I get, the big 60 arrived with limited fanfare in April, the more I appreciate the time to just be with family, the small group that that is in my case. It’s always nice just to talk about sports and games and big fish and the weather, no thinking of the next interview to do, or the next story to write, or about what might go on the front page next week.
As an aside I recognize for many fishing is a solitary adventure. A recent trip had us fishing just down shore from a fisherman who was at the spot a couple of hours before our arrival, was still sitting there as we packed up and left. He had not caught a fish, but looked very contented for his more than four hours of relaxing effort watching the tip of his rod for even the slightest vibration that had not yet come.
It makes me wonder at times whether the fish is why we make the trips, or are they just a handy excuse to get out with family and friends.
Recognizing it is largely a lament of failure, on more than one occasion my son, or even I, have noted that being skunked was not the worst thing because we don’t have fish to clean at day’s end.
It makes me wonder, could we just go to a local park with some checkers and have largely the same experience of camaraderie? Well not in my case as my son sadly grows board rather quickly playing such games as checkers, but I am still left wondering, especially after fishing trips sans fish.
