On Not Fishing

I’ve worked hard to get my kids out fishing on afternoons where there’s no school. It means getting my day job work done ahead of time and packing the night before so we can leave as soon as the morning calls wrap up. The past weeks required a little stream side conference calling and after lunch we headed up river. I was so pumped to finally have a few hours to fish with them. We went fishing alright.

We’d started our day with a tired 6yo – his birthday in fact – and our mourning routine had quite a bit of grumbling from all parties. I put in some time at the desk in the morning and continued on the speaker while we drove to the river. I’ll say that fishing is usually about an hour for us in the winter – if we’re lucky. It’s not an epic day of beating the water. The little hands freeze up fast and the hot chocolate starts calling.  So, after feeling like I neglected my boys while talking on the phone for hours, we cleaned up lunch and geared up. If I ever complained about helping clients get dressed for the water I’m sorry. Wrestling waders on two little boys and then myself results in much sweat and cold hands! 

This particular day ended with a cold swim. I had to explain that we all take a spill every once in a while. The bag of towels and spare clothes sure came in handy that day

Two rigged rods in hand, we made our trek up river. I was hopeful! I’d tied a handful of fresh small wooly buggers the night before and we were headed for a rematch with some fish that had not made it to the net the week before. My guys’ little legs made it quite far upstream and, just as we were about to go over the bank I hear the tired voice of the birthday boy say: 

“I want to go home.” 

“Wait, what?”  I said. Surely I misheard! Could I be sweating through my many layers only to hear THIS?

“I just want to go back to the truck and go home.” Jake said.

Let’s sit on this log and talk this over” I asked, hoping to rally the troops. 

Luke chimed in, “If he doesn’t want to fish, I’m ok if we go home too.”  

“OK,” I sighed, “let’s head back to the truck and we can fire up a movie for the ride home” 

I was deflated. We never made it into the water. I was feeling somewhere between the father from Christmas Story after the Bumpass Hounds at the turkey and the dad from A River Runs Through It – “Boys, what have you done?” 

Obviously my kids were not giving up on trout fishing, they were just tired. This came to me on the long walk back to the truck where their spirits remained surprisingly high; better than they were doing while fist-fighting during lunch while I tried to do work on the tailgate. But we never even got our boots wet. They were muddy and I got some alone time that night while hosing things off in the cold out back.

Later that night my older son said, at bedtime, that he couldn’t wait to do it again. The little one even said he had fun. I have to remember that they’re young and 90% of the fun is taking a drive with “the old man” (as Luke calls me) and having lunch and snacks and hot chocolate and 10% is the fishing. Given the current events, I think I can settle for the weighting being more toward the family time. 

Thank You!

For us here at Knee Deep (it’s a group effort) the show and expo circuit is wrapping up and, while sitting in a pile of boxes, plastic tubs, and extension cords, it’s nice to know that the air is warming up outside. Traveling to the shows and meeting so many anglers has been rewarding. It’s especially refreshing to meet new anglers and see their enthusiasm. Nothing makes you want to hit the water like hearing someone talk about their first trout on the fly. For those who really get the fly fishing bug, that feeling is the same for every fish caught after that first one.  

For me the winter is a time to see old friends from near and far. As a kid, it was when family would come to town and we’d fish tiny streams for brook trout up in NJ. Nowadays, it’s a reminder of all the great fishermen (and women!) that I’ve been lucky enough to have fished with in the last 25 years and who’ve shaped who I’ve become. One pal I tied next to at the shows has known me since I was a 10 year old kid riding my bike to the river with a fly rod in hand.  Some of the guys who let me tag along on trips to NY state all those years ago came to see me in in NJ and there is no way to describe how fantastic that feels. They’re still letting me tag along on their fishing adventures all these years later. It’s all been a reminder that the fly fishing family is very large but has a great spirit and will continue on for many years down the road.

Last but not least, during this season’s show circuit I’ve met so many supportive spouses along the way. Some of us have wives who may or may not fish but are supportive enough to set us free from the house every once in a while to share angling with others. Maybe it’s easier to let us run than listen to grumble while painting the house or working on the car. I don’t know how they live with us sometimes. I know I couldn’t have done it without my wife and I’m sure there are many other fishermen out there who feel the same way. Thanks Dear!

Thank you to everyone who attended the shows and stopped by to say “Hello” this winter. Knee Deep Fly Fishing wouldn’t be here without you.

Keep your tip on the water!

Sincerely,

Micah