Sunday 1 January 2012

In the beginning

     Before I was a crazy species hunter who spent far too much time researching how to catch the strangest of fish, I was a kid who had never held a fishing rod before.

     My first time with a fishing rod was at the Ontario Sportsman show with my Dad and Uncle. I don't even remember how young I was. They had a trout pond competition where if you caught a trout, you would be entered to win a big prize pack of rods and lures. My dad and uncle wanted to give it a shot and I begged to join in as well.

     We each got a noodle rod with a roe bag (though at the time I thought it was a raspberry) and dangled the rods in the water. A few of the other people gave up and mumbled about the fish's lips being sewed shut. My dad instructed me to hold the rod as still as possible and when I felt a bite to jerk up. I didn't listen. I told my dad that he needs to do this, and started frantically swinging my rod around everywhere. Within seconds, there was a ton of splashing, and with some help from my dad, I landed my first fish. A tiny little rainbow trout.

     We were asked if we wanted to keep it. "Yes!" I exclaimed. I was excited to have a new pet fish! so I started listing all of the names we could call it, and how it would be best friends with our pet Oscar (also known as a peacock cichlid). I didn't realize keeping it meant eating it. We didn't end up keeping it.

     My first fishing experience was a lot of fun. The trips in these days were few and far between. I don't remember most of them, probably because I was too busy playing with dandelions, or my siblings to really appreciate the fishing.

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