It is time to prepare
With the coming of fall, it is time to begin preparing for the upcoming seasons. As for me, the first preparation is to get all my walleye and small mouth bass fishing gear in order. As I clean my spinning reels, my thoughts go back to all the great times I have spent on the Allegheny River. I will check everything – especially the drag. I do not want a malfunction when the “Big Boy” decides to make a run down the river towards Pittsburgh. I will check my lines and my guides on the rod. Sometimes without knowing, a guide will crack, which can lead to line failure. Line failure reminds me of a story that happened years ago when I was fishing the Allegheny with my dad. As I reached my teens, my dad and I held friendly competitions.
On one such trip, the day started with us fishing for bass. Around noon, I landed an 18-inch bass. At that time it was the biggest fish of the trip. In a little while, my dad got a 19-inch bass, and the bantering started. “Who got the biggest fish now?” was the first comment he made after landing the fish. Luck must have been on my side because in about 10 minutes, I tangled into a real good small mouth. After fighting the fish for several minutes, I landed a bass a little bigger than 20 inches. It was now my turn to merrily quip back, “Who has got the biggest bass now?”
There was no way that dad was going to concede that I had the bigger fish. The big bass must have been on the feed that day, because we had caught several more bass in the high teens. At about 6 in the evening the “Big Boy” hit my soft shell crayfish. The battle was on and for a long time I was losing ground. Finally, the fish began to weaken and I got the upper hand. I had never seen a bass that big in my life. When I measured the fish, it was 23 inches in length. As I admired the catch, my thoughts went to, “Who has got the biggest fish now?” My dad was coming down river, and I could not wait to show him the fish. Needless to say, a silent calm had permeated the air when he saw the fish. It was a strange quiet, the kind that only happens on odd occasions in the wilderness; it oozed tranquility.
Soon dad stated that he was going to get the “Grand Daddy.” He lighted a cigar – one of those small King Edwards – and he made a cast. Just as luck would have it, another monster fish struck his soft shell crayfish.
This fish was huge and the battle began. After jumping several times, the fish began to weaken and dad began to win the fight. As the fish came closer to the shore, he gleefully started, “Who has got the bigger fish now?” The fish was not done and the fight was still ongoing. During the whole time, I was getting bantered about the large size of the fish. As if in response to his comment, the cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth grew fiery, red hot with his next breath. Focusing on the fighting fish and the taut, quivering line, dad quickly turned his head back toward an upstream position. The line went slack and began to leave his rod. The hot cigar had burnt through the line as he was holding his rod upright! When he realized what had happened, he literally plunged into action. He threw down his rod and began to chase the end of his line as it snaked away into the water. Being unsuccessful in the attempt and dripping wet, he expressed a few choice colorful metaphors.
After dad calmed down, I just had to do it. Of course, at a time like this it is best just to be quiet. Yet, sometimes, you just cannot help it. “Who has got the biggest fish now?” I asked, holding back a chuckle. Well, needless to say I was told about the fish in a manner that I will not go into.
That evening as we sat by the fire and discussed the days fishing, we all had a good laugh about the cigar and the fish that got away. The story has been told many times over the years, and still the humor remains as fresh as the day it occurred.
Memories like this make me appreciate the past and look forward to the future. Maybe some day my granddaughter will have fishing stories to tell about her granddad. Most of all I hope to teach her to really appreciate the out-of-doors and to take care of what has been given to us. Always remember that church on Sunday seems to make the week go better.