Opening Day

Good morning all,

I've gone to opening day of fishing with my father since as far back as I can remember.  No matter the weather - sometimes cold enough to frost the windows of our truck - sometimes warm and sunny - we go.  I have tangled countless lines in the river, lost countless fish, and caught a few.  One was even big enough to win the Hitchcock chair, if I had reported where I caught it a little differently.  I remember vividly tangling my line almost every cast, and my father patiently interrupting his fishing so that he could help me fix my rig.

We don't usually fly fish on opening day.  All the same, I bring my fly rod just in case.  There's waiting for the Riverton siren at 6 am, breathless with anticipation, and watching the sun rise as the first few casts plunk into the river.  There's the sound of the river rushing, trying to keep warm, and hoping a trout will take the bait.  There's untangling the lines of my stepson, and hoping that fishing with him will give him some of what I got from my dad.  There's seeing our breath, watching others catch fish, and being at peace with the beauty of the moment.  The mist slowly burns off the river, the birds start chirping, and sometimes we see a heron.  I always bring some pieces of trash home with me, leaving my little section of river a bit better than we found it.

Then, there's breakfast at my parents' house.  It used to be my grandma's house, until she passed.  Somehow, all that food tastes better after a chilly morning on the river.  The time spent with my dad in this way always rejuvenates me.  Then, there's time with my mom and sometimes my Aunt, telling stories of the fish we caught (or didn't).  There's a guy that makes it, most years, to the same spot we fish in.  Tradition drives us, even if we don't have much luck there.  Even though my mom and aunt don't fish, they still enjoy that morning with us as a family, hearing about the morning.  These days, it's about the only time I can get my dad to come fishing.  But we do it every year, like clockwork.  For a moment, I feel like a kid - learning from my dad and hearing him tell stories and give advice.

At any rate, good luck to all you fishermen and women out there.  I wish you good luck, some beauty in nature, and the chance to see a fish or two!

~Mark