If you've read Gone Fishin' you know that I spent many fond days fishing with my Grandfather when I was a child growing up in Missouri. But as I got older other more pressing issues took precedence in my life--like going to college, the Army, moving to New York, starting a career and getting married. Next thing I knew I hadn't been fishing in 25 years.
My good friend Allan has two passions--golf and fishing. I never could get excited about golf, although in all honesty I've never tried it. The idea of whacking a little ball around an oversized manicured lawn just seems excruciatingly boring to me. And it always looks so prissy, what with those funny pants and shoes they wear and the little go-karts they ride around on so they don't have to work up a sweat. Besides, I don't like games anyway. Never have, never will.
But fishing--well that's something I could relate to with Allan. Fishing lets you get close to what is left of nature. You can get dirty, wet, smelly and sunburned. You can let your beard grow, wear the same clothes several days in a row and cuss all you want. In other words, it's lots of fun.
About six years ago Allan
lent me one of his many rods and reels to take with me on one of my trips
back to Missouri. No pun intended, but I was once again hooked. Since then,
the two of us have gone fishing together every year in the Adirondacks and
on Lake Champlain. We always stay in Plattsburgh, NY, which is getting up
pretty close to the Canadian border. It's a college town and the people there
are very friendly. We either hire a guide with a boat or hook up with one
of Allan's friends who has a boat and knows the many lakes intimately. Allan
always catches more fish than I do, but I don't care. As I said, I'm not into
it for the game. The following pictures are an amalgam of the last five trips.
This is a good representation of what it looks like in the Adirondacks. This
picture was a couple of years ago and, as you can see, it is almost fall.
The trees are starting to turn colors. It makes for a little colder fishing,
but as it turned out it actually got quite hot a couple of days on this trip.
This is one of the smaller inland lakes—don't remember which one.
This is Allan and me with our guide, Russell. As you can see, Russell is fairly
young. But he really knows his stuff. He grew up in the area and knows every
nook and cranny of every lake. He's also a great teacher. It was from him
that I learned the correct way to fish plastic worms.
Allan getting ready to help launch the boat.
Haulin' ass to get across the lake. At fifty mph you don't wear your caps. Hang on, Allan!