Catch of the day

It’s amazing how mild a day with highs in the nineties feels after a summer of record-smashing heat and drought. Determined to wring every last bit of fun out of summer before school starts, we loaded up the fishing poles and tackle, a couple of bikes, and some Frisbees, picked up some root beer and oatmeal sandwich cookies from the store, and spent an afternoon at our favorite spot: Shakamak State Park.

Because of the too-hot summer, many of the trees are already turning colors and dropping leaves. I could almost imagine it was early fall when I sat in the shade.  Erick and the boys headed over a hill down to a little shady spot by the lake, and the rest of us ate snacks and tried mastering the Wave (a tricky little skateboard-like toy with only two wheels that twists in the middle.) After a bit I noticed my ten-year-old, Rachel, was missing. I went over the hill and found her watching the boys fish and gazing longingly at the remaining fishing pole leaning up against the bank. She wanted to fish, too, but didn’t know how to put on the hooks and bobbers. I knew my husband had his hands full already keeping the boys from getting their lines tangled together in that little bitty spot, so I decided to help. I’m not much into fishing myself. I hate impaling worms. The way they squirm when you put them on the hook…the muddy mixture that comes squirting out their other end when the hook finally pops through…ick. 

So instead I fixed her up with one of those lures that spin and took her around the bend to the boat dock. That way she could practice casting out her line and reeling it back in without getting her lines crossed with the boys. There weren’t many weeds, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her hook snagging and getting stuck. We could see the fish easily through the clear water. It was a perfect setup…except the fish weren’t very interested in her lure. They didn’t mind watching it as she repeatedly dragged it by their fishy snouts, but not once did they move to take it. 

Rachel was determined to catch a fish, though, so she kept trying. I soon became hot and tired and so I moved up the boat ramp and sat in the shade on the curb and watched her fish. As she continued to practice, she became quite good at casting out. She would hold the fishing pole up over her head and fling her line out way into the lake. The she’d squat down and watch the fish as she reeled it back in. Again and again she tried, the very picture of perseverance and patience. 

When I finally saw her walking towards me, I figured she was giving up. I was wrong. She still wanted to catch a fish, but she was ready to try it with live bait this time. Just then I also spotted my husband and sons coming towards me from the other direction. They were only catching tiny little fish at their shady spot and were ready to try the boat dock. I talked my brave, strong husband into impaling a worm for Rachel and then went back to check on the rest of the kids. I barely made it back to the picnic table when I heard my husband hollering for me. At first I thought one of the kids had fallen into the lake, so I ran back to the boat dock as fast as I could to see what was wrong. There stood Rachel, proudly holding her fishing pole with a nice-sized sunfish gasping on the end of it. I guess she’d caught one just as soon as she’d dropped that line into the water. I pulled out my phone and took a picture to commemorate the occasion. The fish was almost big enough to keep, but not quite. My husband had to help her get it off the line so she could release it back into the lake. (I tried, but it was too slimy and gross.) She was very proud of herself, and we were proud of her, too, for catching the biggest fish of the day and for making her perseverance pay off.