As a boy growing up, most of my fishing was done from land and usually with worms or slugs I found under stones along the river bank.. The streams I fished could be jumped across in places. The Brook trout I brought back home for a winter’s treat were small. Milk cartons filled with water and brookies held a special place in Mom’s freezer. The January fish feed made me very proud to be contributing to our families winter supplies.
The only walleye I’d seen came from an accidental catch.
Years of paying my dues, afforded me a new boat. Now fishing bigger waters required heavier gear, new methods and boat control skills. With the help of friends and Lady Luck, bigger fish are boated; seldom; but each is appreciated. Adapting to change is difficult. Tossing a worm under a rock is not the same as trolling a worm harness at 1.5 mph into a currant about ???? miles or knots an hour. I’m not a sea captain!
Learning how to fish is hard. Learning how to fish well is a lifelong goal.
My retirement years will be spent on the water, more often than not, enjoying the view, maybe reeling in a big one every now and then.
That’s okay with me.