20milesfromnowhere's Blog

Gone fishin..

Gone fishin, …a perfect phrase to evoke thoughts of one’s golden years. Actually, that is exactly where I see myself in the future. Fishing. Maybe guiding on our local lake, or off in Alaska or Mexico, chasing the trophy of a lifetime at some prized destination or maybe just sitting on the pier with the grandchildren.   

As I see it, fishing is a pretty good analogy for our time here on earth. Much like in life, there are many approaches to and definitions for it, for what it means and for what constitutes success.  Regardless of whether we are casting a $500 rod and reel from a $40,000 bass boat or just sitting along the bank of a lazy creek, barely mustering the energy to toss bobber to a tranquil pool, it is all fishing to someone.   

As in life, one can plan and prepare, study and stalk, labor and hone one’s skill until every aspect is scripted and on point but the results, or the interpretation of thereof can be so dependant on one’s perception of success or failure. Too often success is measured by the outcome rather than the quality of journey. Too often the results are not a product of our labor but a result of factors beyond out control. The most meticulously planned trip can be overcome by the weather or the waves or just the fact that they are not biting that day while the off hand, unplanned last minute run to the lake can provide a bountiful harvest and boundless enjoyment. The kind of thing that leaves you and others wondering, how can that guy be so lucky when he doesn’t work for it at all and I care so much and don’t catch squat!  We all know that guy!

For the novice (or the young) this can be frustrating, when all the time and expenditure of resource can seemly be wasted if the creel is not full at the end of the day.  I remember as a kid, going fishing with my grandpa. All I wanted was to catch one, or better yet, catch many that were bigger than he did. Now as a father, I sometimes still can get caught up in the count, but more often I relish in the time spent with my boy, watching him in his pursuit of the big one, or just enjoying the time we are having together- now understanding that it is growing smaller. Too quickly he will be a man. With his own young to care for and teach, he will soon be unable to spare his attention for the old man. Often I catch myself, leaning against the bow of the boat, thanking God for all I have in my children and a good wife and health, blessed health that enables me to ply my vocation and engage in my entertainments. I know that soon, I will have not so much time. I find it already making a speedy escape from me. Like the cyclist that has labored to climb the hill, I now stand at the precipice, peering across the valley and gazing at the vast basin below, knowing that the labor is no longer in attaining the apex but in braking the unrelenting momentum of the descent. 

I’ve come to realize that the true good fortune of being over the hill is that the climb is behind you and the trip downhill, while it constantly brings you closer to the end, takes much less energy to maintain.  It is however, a bit tricky to maneuver at this speed. 

But, between here and there, I still see myself fishing. Casting a line, watching it sink below the surface and hoping, wondering, anticipating that nudge on the other end and what wonders it might hold. While I still pursue the trophy, I have come to appreciate more and more the act itself. I find I am just as fulfilled by the environment as in harvesting its inhabitants. Fishing is good but going fishing is better and hey, I might even catch one now and then. These days I practice catch and release. I hope for the fish to see another day. I pray we both do.