Time and fish wait for no man

I tend to live a pretty hectic lifestyle. Between working all week at my normal job and coming home every day to take care of my house and yard, there sometimes has to be a middle ground. Also, for the past few weekends, I have been on the road quite early to reach the lake and fish all day. Toss in the prerequisite soccer and swimming lessons for my son and you have a text book case of burnout.

So this past weekend, with the weather finally looking good, it was decided that I would try to sleep in for once and just take a couple of days to laze around and relax.

Unfortunately this plan was devised by me and not my better half, who sometimes likes to work me like a rented mule. So, suffice to say, early Saturday morning found me being shaken awake with lights on in my eyes and the sounds of cartoons blasting from the television.

Gingerly I dragged my bedraggled frame out of bed and wandered into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee and to check the itinerary for the day. To my surprise she had no jobs lined up and figured we could just go for a country drive as a family. To her this meant, well, driving of course, but to me and my son it meant that perhaps a little bit of fishing could be involved as well.

After a quick stop for more coffee and some Timbits for the road, we were off. A check of the map book had us heading north from Huntsville on the highway for only a handful of minutes. With a myriad of gravel back roads ahead of us it was kind of difficult to decide exactly where to go, but the indecision just made it more interesting. After a few twists and turns in the road, our first real glimpse of wildlife decided to cross in front of us in the form of a pair of porcupines. Leaving them to waddle back into the bush amid a cloud of blackflies, we carried on our way.

Over the next hour or so, I managed by sheer luck alone to avoid stopping at a handful of markets and antique shops only to slow down and pull over at any and all water bodies possible. Under the guise of stretching out my legs and back, my son and I would scamper over to scan for any signs at all of aquatic life. A few of the ponds held minnows and a few frogs, but nothing of real substance. I figured that at least some of these areas must hold speckled trout and I was determined to find them.

By and by the day began to fade into late afternoon and it was time to begin heading for home. Even if the fishing rods had stayed in the van all day, we’d all had a good time throughout the drive. It was then, after rounding a particularly sharp turn in the road, that I saw it: an old bridge spanning a small bush-lined creek. My wife moaned as I slowly pulled over to the makeshift parking lot at the edge of the water. Quickly I popped the hatch on the van and pulled out my son’s fishing rod and a container full of worms. “All right,” she said with a roll of the eyes, “five minutes.”

Hurriedly, father and son rushed to the water and after deftly flicking the worm into the current, I handed it over. Being the proud papa, I couldn’t have been happier when he screeched over at me, “Daddy, help, I got a fish.” Expecting to see a small river chub or the like, I almost fell over as something resembling a foot-and-a-half long speckled trout writhed in the current before deftly scooting beneath an overhanging branch and breaking the line. My wife, who had been taking photos of the whole incident, couldn’t quite believe what she had seen either. My son on the other hand just took it in stride and began to search for tadpoles and frogs in the shallows. It was then that I realized here was someone who really knew how to relax; no worries of time, job or anything else for that matter. The only important thing was that he was with his family and was having a great time.

Later that night after my son slept, my wife and I chuckled as we reviewed all of the day’s pictures. Most were of the obligatory child playing and posing by the water, but near the end there happened to be a handful at the river including a very special photo of my son with the large trout fighting before it got away. The sheer joy on his face spoke volumes as he did battle. After the pair of us stared misty-eyed at the image before us, my wife turned toward me and remarked on how big he had grown, and the customary “it seems like just yesterday.” Then she said, “I hope that now you will begin to slow down your schedule a little more.”

“Of course honey,” I replied, “just after we head back and get that trout tomorrow.”

Oh well, at least my son won’t have far to find me in the morning to wake me up — the couch is right in front of the TV.

Till next time, good luck and good fishing.

Ed Haney is an avid fisherman who lives near Huntsville.