Fishing

I'm not sure why, but there's something deep inside my soul that gives me the ability to stand on the side of a lake, river or stream all day long, and toss and retrieve a lure or bait for hours.  Until it gets dark. It's just so hard to put the fishing pole down. I can remember camping at Atwood Lake, in my early teens, getting eaten up by mosquitoes, basically doing the mosquito dance at dusk, until I absolutely couldn't stand it anymore.  I don't care what type of fish I catch, I have always loved fishing.  I can thank my dad and my grandfather for that passion.

They got me started at a pretty early age.  My earliest fishing memory is Goodyear's Wingfoot Lake Park, a private retreat area for Goodyear workers outside of Akron.  It isn't private anymore- in fact, it's now a state park.  But there, probably at the age of five or six I remember catching a tiny little bluegill and a nice fat crayfish.  The rest is history.

I don't remember my grandfather fishing very often.  He just didn't participate in the sport very much in retirement.  I think by that time, he put most of his effort into golf.  But when he passed on last February, I went through his THREE tackle boxes, and found some pretty amazing fishing tackle spanning decades of fishing history.  I've been going through it this weekend.  I'd like to select the most valuable and interesting pieces and mount them on a shadowbox to hang in the wall.  Heck, I think there's enough stuff to fill three shadow boxes.

Although I don't do it much anymore, fishing is something that first sparked my interest in nature and wild animals at a very young age.

-Tom