Old Fish New Fish

When I was a kid, I never passed up an opportunity to go fishing with my dad and/or brothers. Never. Rain, snow, sleet, hail, sun, dark, cold, hot, you name it, I would brave any condition for the chance to feel that sensation of a fish on the end of my line, not to mention the great fish that we would get to eat if we were successful.

We fished the local creeks, the local ponds, the ocean, the lakes, the reservoirs. Some of the fish we considered edible and some we did not. Old Fish New Fish. You'll see what I mean.

Me, back when I was about 18 years old. I had just arrived home from fishing a local mudhole in my float tube. My sister thought she would snap this picture to remember the moment. I was being kind of goofy in the leather hat that dad had bought me. I loved that hat! Unfortunately, it didn't stand the test of time. This would be old fish.

One of the creeks, which was about 3/4 mile from our house was aptly named Muddy Creek; a tributary to the Willamette River. On many Saturdays my brother's and I would pack up some fishing gear, which usually consisted of a couple of old fishing rods, a few yards at least of some old mono-filament line, a couple of hooks and some worms we'd dug up in the yard or night crawlers we'd caught the night before. We'd also take our knives and our BB guns and make the walk down to Muddy Creek to do some fishing and spend a day of adventure, building forts, rafts, etc.

We'd catch suckers, bass, carp and some other fish that I cannot name. I tried to find a picture that I saw just a few weeks ago, it seems, of my brother and I with some trophy carp we had caught at Muddy Creek. Well, we thought they were trophies anyway, at about 14-15 inches each. Sadly, I couldn't locate the photo.

My dad came home from work at the local paper mill one day and told us he'd heard that canned carp was quite tasty. Well, that inspired us to go catch some carp and bring it back for mom to can and we'd give it a try. However, in our zeal we apparently never fully committed to actually eating it. I remember that jar of canned carp did actually look quite delicious. But it sat in the cupboard, in the pantry, in the fridge, etc., for months, maybe years, and nobody ever cracked open the seal on that bad boy as far as I know. I remember seeing it on many occasions and thinking about giving it a try but never got up the gumption, remembering the origin of that fish flesh (the Muddy Creek) and the fish's bad reputation for edibility. Old fish!

We had many adventures at Muddy Creek. Some were dangerous. Some were probably illegal. We definitely were witness to some illegal activity on a few occasions, anyway. But those are stories for another day. There was always a level of mystery and we always had fun. Those were the good old days.

On to the new fish. Last Saturday, my younger son and I went back out to the lake. Like I say, l would never have turned down the opportunity to go on a fishing trip, especially to this lake, which we actually did fish dozens and dozens of times when I was a kid, as I wrote about in a recent post. Despite all my desires, a little begging and pleading, my older son opted to sit this one out. I was a little saddened that the allure of video games is stronger than fishing for this one. I can't say I am not (yeah, that was a double negative) largely to blame as I was very much addicted to playing video games when he was a small child and he definitely caught the bug from me.

I usually choose to not push him. I don't want to make him go against his will, though I do insist sometimes. He usually enjoys himself when he goes and I feel more complete for sure.

The fishing was great last Saturday and the weather was amazing!

Being a little superstitious, I often choose not to stock the cooler with ice before we head out. Don't want to jinx our luck. However, for this trip my confidence was quite high and since I had some ice in our deep freeze I stocked up the cooler so we would be ready to put these fish on ice because these fish are quite edible indeed. :) These are new fish!

Action shot! Look how that heavy rainbow trout is testing the strength of that cheap $20 fishing rod. Note the look in his eyes. That is a determined fisherman. New fish.

Here's your proof. It's really me. Granted, I am not quite as photogenic as my son but now you know that I was really there and I put my finger through a fish's gills. You can assume I caught this one. That would be correct. You can assume that my six year old son took this photo and the angle wasn't quite right. My head is really not that big. I am okay with the size of the fish being distorted in my favor but leave the head alone, please, mister smartphone camera. There is only so much to work with and I am not getting any help from that lens. No filter on this bad boy. I guess this would be old fish, new fish! Feels like I'm an old fish most days anyway, haha. But read on, there is hope for my youthful energy to be replenished.

We wander up and down the bank until we locate the hole the fish are residing in that day. A little snack always helps pass the time and increase the level of pleasure of being out there on that beach. As you saw in the previous photo I chose to expose my bare feet to the ground and the sunshine. It was quite energizing. I haven't gone barefoot at a fishing hole in years it seems! A close examination of my feet would probably prove that, but don't do that to yourself. The inspiration to go barefoot came from a post I read here on Steemit by @thegiftofself. I felt energized for the rest of the day. I went home cleaned the fish and then mowed the lawn and got other chores done too! Old fish, new fish.

He's usually off having fun not paying attention to his rod, so I keep an eye on both of them. I usually am the one who tells him he is getting a bite. He is always quick to the rod once he is aware of the situation. Sometimes he does notice the bites before I do though. He is learning. Here he is waiting for the take-down but the fish was being camera shy, I guess. Old fish, new fish.

Well, we caught our limits of rainbow trout and headed back to the Fishwagon. We offed our boots and put on some more comfortable shoes for the ride home and the inevitable stop for a Happy Meal.

Twas another great day. Hope you enjoyed this post. Old fish and new fish were involved. Both are special to me. You saw things that can never be unseen, like my bare feet and how handsome I was in my leather hat about 20 years ago. Oh, and my son is pretty dang cute too.

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All of the photos in this post are brewer originals and taken by myself, my son and my sister.