The Intro ..........

This has been many years in the making.  Procrastination and plain laziness has been the root of not creating a personal blog. I do not consider myself much of a writer. The thought of not being able to keep up with others has always been an insecurity growing up. Now in my 46^th year, I am still growing up in many respects. I hope those that come across this will enjoy and take away something positive from it. Here goes……….

10 years old and nothing to do for two months.  I found the river and the Thames Valley Trail that would be my summer playground. My friend and I would spend every day running around that path. Every few steps we would look for the trail-marking white rectangle that was painted on a tree trunk. We would venture a few trees more each day and after two years, we would be miles from home. Add to this adolescent freedom, a fishing rod and there you have it, instant daycare. Netting minnows. Trapping crayfish. Snatching dew worms late at night with a flashlight and an empty coffee can taped to my leg. Catching bass, pike and carp every day was heavenly. I remember it felt like the world was coming to an end when we could not fish because the rivers blew out and turned dirty.

Fast forward a few years and wouldn’t you know it, I still get bummed out when I can’t make it to the river when I want to. That big pout face and carrying on all sucky-like would make the girls in the office laugh, just like my mother used to.  The daycare has now turned into a major league stress reliever with non-medicinal results of biblical portions. Time and time again, I look for it to pull the tension (that builds up from the daily grind) out from within.  Every time I arrive,   it takes me to a heightened level of zenquility.

This sport / pastime is growing at a very fast pace. Nothing to look down upon as I was part of this evolution. Growth however, has also placed strain on the resource I worship. Even at non-peak times of the season, there are more vehicles at various access points than I recall just five years previous. It is to be expected but also avoidable. I would drive an extra hour or hike a mile further to fish in seclusion. I am thankful that there are still a few places that can afford me such a luxury.

Fall 2011 has all but come and gone. It was a tremendous season angling wise as I had some incredible days on the tributaries I grew up steelheading. I could not help but toss that old “ it’s not about the numbers” philosophy out the window. At times, the action was too good to be true and I wanted one after another, hoping it would not end.

Things are now settling into winter. The home rivers are closed for the season. This is usually the time the long rods are set aside and the ice fishing gear comes out, however, there is no safe hardwater in sight. At least not within acceptable driving distance. It may be a long few months. Here we come 2012!