08-24 REELLIFE print digital - Flipbook - Page 26
safety
Ok, I’m sitting here in our
group camp while the rest
of the gang is out chasing
walleye. I love walleye
fishing; how did this
happen? The progression
is a long one and then the
wife just had knee surgery
and needed an extra hand.
The table was set.
When I was a tater-tot, my
parents used to say that I
came out of my mom with
a fishing pole in my hand.
Although it was likely a tall
story, it is based on what
turned out to be a lifelong
obsession and pursuit of
anything that swims. Both
in elementary school and
in high school if I was late
or got caught skipping
school it was because I was
fishing. Once I could drive, I
often went to school with a
steelhead or 3 on ice in the
back of my car.
My adolescent
preoccupation with fishing
followed me through to
adulthood. My early days
of easy 3 steelhead days or
immediate chinook limits
just primed the pump.
I was obsessed, if I saw
a puddle somewhere I
believed two things; First
that there was a fish in it,
and second that I could
catch it. I think that I was
well into my 40s before I
realized that I may have
to work for the next fish.
Prior to that, I had an
unwavering belief that I
would hook a fish on every
cast, anywhere around the
world. I was lucky though;
I lived and grew up in the
PNW during the heyday of
sports fishing.
To that note: I have caught
fish all around the world.
During my suit and tie days
I was fortunate, LOL or
maybe it was unfortunate
in that I spent a lot of time
on the road. I traveled to
many regions within the
United States, Mexico, and
other parts of the world. I
always traveled with a 5 or
maybe 7-weight fly rod and
a travel spinning rod tucked
in my carry-on. These being
pre-internet days I would
research the area that I
