Articles With the Tag . . . Aiden

Lessons from the Salt (2022) — Strike Zones, Sensitivity and Persistence

The churning waves, the cuts, troughs and sandbars of beach water mimic the flows of a good river that is full of structure. And tearing apart the differences to find the similarities between the two water systems is a challenge that’s renewed with each trip to the salt . . .

Aiden’s First Brown Trout

Hundreds of times Aiden has snagged the bottom, pulled the rod back, and either asked me if that was a fish or has told me flatly, “I think that was a fish.”  This time, he finally experienced the certainty that a couple of good head shakes from a trout will give you . . .

The Twenty Dollar Cast

“Okay, Dad,” Joey bellowed over the whitewater. “Here’s the twenty dollar cast . . .”

His casting loop unfolded and kicked the nymph over with precision. And when the fly tucked into the darkest side of the limestone chunk, Joey kept the rod tip up, holding all extra line off the water. It was a gorgeous drift. And the air thickened with anticipation.

We watched together in silence as Joey milked that drift until the very end. And I think we were both a little surprised when nothing interrupted the long, deep ride of over thirty feet.

“Not this time, buddy,” I told him.

Joey flicked his wrist and repeated the same cast to the dark side of the rock. And because the world is a wonderful place, a no-doubter clobbered the stonefly nymph . . .

Eat a Trout Once in a While

I stood next to him on the bank, and I watched my uncle kneel in the cold riffle. Water nearly crested the tops of his hip waders while he adjusted and settled next to the flat sandstone rock that lay between us. He pulled out the Case pocket knife again, as he’d done every other time that I’d watched this fascinating process as a young boy.

“Hand me the biggest one,” my uncle said, with his arm outstretched and his palm up.

So I looked deep into my thick canvas creel for the first trout I’d caught that morning. Five trout lay in the damp creel. I’d rapped each of them on the skull after beaching them on the bank, right between the eyes, just as I’d been taught — putting a clean end to a trout’s life. I handed the rainbow trout to my uncle and smiled with enthusiasm . . .

The Little League Series: Some Teams Are All Heart

The Little League Series: Some Teams Are All Heart

I pulled over to check the map for a second time. A few cars whizzed by, fifteen feet away at seventy miles an hour, and I ignored the rocking motion of my own truck as the minor wave of flexing blacktop passed underneath my tires. Where’s the ball field? I scanned to...

I want to, but I don’t want to

I want to, but I don’t want to

** Note **  This one's from a couple November seasons back. And as I fished past the same spot today, the memory of this day came alive again . . . -- -- -- -- -- -- My favorite eight-year-old looked at me exasperated, with his signature furrowed brow and troubled...

Peace In the Valley

Peace In the Valley

Dad and I didn't set up camp in our usual spot. For as long as I can remember, we’ve chosen primitive, state forest lands rather than campgrounds. It’s quieter, and there’s more of a sense that you’re truly getting away from everything for a while. But this year the...

Spring Camp With Two Boys | 2016

Spring Camp With Two Boys | 2016

My Dad and I have often visited a campsite in the same remote spot atop a state forest mountain for almost fifteen years now. The spring trip is a four or five day event focused on fishing for wild brown trout in the limestone waters at the bottom of the mountain, and...

Gear – Kids In Waders

Gear – Kids In Waders

Took Aiden fishing today.  No, it's really not too cold if you dress for it.  For my youngest son, that means three pair of socks, three pants, two heavy shirts, winter coat, hat, and waterproof mittens. Sure, it takes about fifteen minutes to get dressed, but then I...

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