the rules… regarding life and fishing

Last weekend we decided to get out on the river, take some pictures, and maybe catch a few trout.   Hitching up the trailer, I was painfully reminded of the fishing laws.  I fingered through all of my keys but couldn’t find one that unlocks the trailer tongue.  It took a while to fathom, but there it was: law number one, staring me in the face.  My friend Jason, with whom I do most of my fishing, coined it the “deductible rule”.   It’s more of an explanation of things rather than a dictate for behavior.  You can call it karma or the universe balancing itself out, but it’s basically this:  if one is rewarded with something like… good fishing, a price must be paid.  The toll can be remunerated up front or afterward, but you can be sure it will be paid.  Deductions can be: broken rods, sunken boat motors, or maybe (in this case) a missing key.  Without the key we weren’t going anywhere, at least not with the boat.  After a ten-minute drive back to the house, I found the damned thing right where I left it (on Gina’s key ring).

Forty minutes later we were at the ramp, which is a nice segue into law two (being broken now):  NEVER.  EVER.  DIVULGE THE LOCATION OF A FISHING SPOT.    The logic behind this one varies but I’m sure it’s due to scarcity of resources.  If everyone went to the same spot at the same time well… there’d be pandemonium, anarchy… or a butt load of fisherman standing too close to one another, waiving flippy sticks around in dangerous fashion.

This image reminds me of law three: ALWAYS NAME YOUR BOAT.  There’s a lot of superstition involved with fishing.  It’s like any activity where success is heavily determined by chance.  When something works, we want to attribute it to the tangible – like having a boat name, a certain color of hull, and of course my favorite – never having a banana on board.   Huh?  Anyway, karmically speaking, floating around with an unnamed boat is akin to driving on bald tires.  It’s just a matter of time before you are stricken down.  Which brings us to the name of my boat:  The Clackattack.  To explain, she was manufactured by Clackacraft Boat works, out of Idaho.  I’m not going into a lot of detail here (mostly for legal reasons) but there was an incident and henceforth she was so named by one of my very “witty” friends.

The last law, of course, is to REMEMBER WHY YOU CAME.  Forget all the frustrations of getting there.  Forget the expense. Forget how many fish you caught.  Live in the moment, breath clean air and appreciate all that surrounds you.  At least that’s the idea.  I haven’t always been able to abide but that’s fishing.  The day was overcast and cold but not so much that we couldn’t take a deep breath and enjoy the view. We motored around some.  I rowed.  Gina rowed a little.  I even managed to cash in on that deductible.   Enjoy the view – karma free.

 

Scott

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