Joel DeBoer
09-16-2012, 04:50 PM
Fishermen belong to a fraternity of sorts – adventure junkies who pride themselves on freezing, sweating, swatting, and swearing all the while waiting for a “bite” from a tiny-brained cold-blooded creature who claims victory more than any of us will ever care to admit. At its core fishing is downright primal, man versus nature just as it has been for centuries. We spend tens of thousands of dollars on boats, rigged with the latest high-tech electronics, accessories, and gadgets, all in the hopes it puts us one step closer to gaining an advantage over our finned adversary.
If you’re like me, you have boxes upon boxes of lures, hooks, terminal accessories, and the like which combined take up as much room in the garage as the vehicles – and that’s not mentioning the “secret stash” of bargain-bin buys you just happen to be “storing” (a more subtle form of hiding) in the guest bedroom. Throw in the dozens of rods and reels, the piles of assorted lake maps, fishing books, and magazines, and the various “must have” accessories (yes, I need each one of those Frabill nets!) you’ve been collecting for the past 15 years and it’s a wonder your spouse hasn’t called TLC to have you featured on an episode of “Hoarders”.
Fishing is an addiction, but a positive one at that. There are few things in life that compare to the blessings one is privy to experience while on the water: the hauntingly beautiful call of a loon at sunrise, the majesty of a soaring bald eagle amidst bluebird skies, the serenity of a Northwood’s sunset, or the absolute thrill, terror, and exhilaration of a surface bait strike shrouded in the inky blackness of nighttime.
Fishing is artistry, an up close and personal invitation to the greatest gallery in existence. Rembrandt and Van Gogh’s finest work does not rival the intricacy of the markings of a Brook Trout or Pumpkinseed, nor do the masterpieces of Monet and Picasso compare to the absolute brilliance of the full moon reflecting of the glass-like surface of a lake.
To some fishing is religion or a calling; to others it is relaxation at its finest, sport at its purest, or the ultimate adrenalin fix. Perhaps that’s why we always need “one more” rod, reel, or lure – it’s an excuse for us to venture forth to our favorite lake, river, or stream, to revisit that “old friend” one more time and experience, like a child at Christmas, the magic of anticipation. I’ll see you on the water…
Tight lines,
If you’re like me, you have boxes upon boxes of lures, hooks, terminal accessories, and the like which combined take up as much room in the garage as the vehicles – and that’s not mentioning the “secret stash” of bargain-bin buys you just happen to be “storing” (a more subtle form of hiding) in the guest bedroom. Throw in the dozens of rods and reels, the piles of assorted lake maps, fishing books, and magazines, and the various “must have” accessories (yes, I need each one of those Frabill nets!) you’ve been collecting for the past 15 years and it’s a wonder your spouse hasn’t called TLC to have you featured on an episode of “Hoarders”.
Fishing is an addiction, but a positive one at that. There are few things in life that compare to the blessings one is privy to experience while on the water: the hauntingly beautiful call of a loon at sunrise, the majesty of a soaring bald eagle amidst bluebird skies, the serenity of a Northwood’s sunset, or the absolute thrill, terror, and exhilaration of a surface bait strike shrouded in the inky blackness of nighttime.
Fishing is artistry, an up close and personal invitation to the greatest gallery in existence. Rembrandt and Van Gogh’s finest work does not rival the intricacy of the markings of a Brook Trout or Pumpkinseed, nor do the masterpieces of Monet and Picasso compare to the absolute brilliance of the full moon reflecting of the glass-like surface of a lake.
To some fishing is religion or a calling; to others it is relaxation at its finest, sport at its purest, or the ultimate adrenalin fix. Perhaps that’s why we always need “one more” rod, reel, or lure – it’s an excuse for us to venture forth to our favorite lake, river, or stream, to revisit that “old friend” one more time and experience, like a child at Christmas, the magic of anticipation. I’ll see you on the water…
Tight lines,