Tuesday, January 17, 2012
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.
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.