Monday, June 9, 2014
One morning I asked the now 4.5 year old Hank what he wanted to do when I picked him up from preschool. He said emphatically, "Go fishing!" Of course, I thought that was great. I put some basic gear in the truck (including extra juice boxes, oreos, and some other garbage), headed out to work, and went through the day. When I arrived to pick him up, he had told his teachers, the school director, and apparently everybody else that he was going fishing. Again, I thought, "this is great!"
Once in the truck, I asked him if he wanted to fish at a pond, a lake, or a river, knowing that I really wanted him to say "pond" because it would be much more manageable for me to watch him at a pond. Plus, the shoreline fishing is usually much, much easier.
But he said, "River," and so we headed below the tailrace of the Loch Raven Dam on Maryland's Gunpowder River, just a few miles from home. And that's when the changes were apparent.
Hank tied a senko worm onto his line (no hook) with a sloppy shoelace knot. I had no idea. He expertly cast his BPS "Youth Maxx" (or whatever) rod out "several feet" into the river, and he reeled it in without a problem. All the things that had been frustrating him about fishing for two years were suddenly easy.
I had a chance at a nice bass that was chasing small fish around in the cobbles, but I couldn't get the presentation right. Flat out ignored. While the boy spent almost half his time not fishing, he kept coming back to it and he (for once) stayed within my eyesight. He also seemed to enjoy finding fish that he could see. We fished far too long, actually, and eventually called it quits when the sun started to go down. The snacks had been eaten and Hank was talking an awful lot about french fries. Definitely looking forward to next time....