Fishing with my dad as a young girl was so memorable. It's something I'll cherish forever, and arguably, it's the best part of fishing for me (fishing with the people you love).
My dad is an avid fly fisherman. I know everyone says that... but you have NO idea. This man retired (finally had more time on his hands) and broke 3 state records. SEE EXAMPLE HERE. Every year he would go to the Bahamas and fish for his favorite fish: bonefish and tarpon. It's his favorite.
Anyway, I remember him waking me up early in the morning most weekends and asking me to go fishing with him. Most of the time, I said yes. Spending time with him was so much fun. He taught me patience, but he would take me to the most beautiful places. Some of my favorites were Fish Lake, the Duchesne River, the Boulder Mountains, Bear Lake (especially in the dark), Lake Town Lake, Koosharem, lots of weird places I didn't know the names to, the Weber River (but he doesn't like that one), East Fork Blacks Fork, the Madison River, Kemmerer, ah, I could go on and on.
One morning he woke me up, I was probably 10, and shook me, asking, "Do you want to go fishing with me? It's kind of far away." I said yes, and off we were at 2:30 AM. We, of course, stopped at the gas station to get Krispy Kreme doughnuts and chocolate milk. Then off we were in his little work car.
A few hours later, I woke up, and we were in Nevada at Wildhorse Reservoir. I had never been there, and it wasn't the prettiest sight; however, it looked promising. It was windy and cold, and we fished until the sun was fully out. Of course, my dad was catching them right and left. But I'll never forget a thought I had while watching him catch fish.
At that moment, I understood that this life was more fulfilling when you find peaceful places doing peaceful things. I wanted it to be part of my life forever. From that moment on, I would go fishing with my dad, grandpa, and brothers. We would sometimes break up, fly fishing and I, I'd leave it for a boyfriend or whatnot, but I always came back to fly fishing.
It became more than a skill passed down; it evolved into a connection with nature, family, and the simple joys that only fishing could offer. So, thank you, Dad, for imparting not just the art of fly fishing but for embedding in me a love for the tranquility that accompanies it. Your lessons have become the thread weaving through the fabric of my most cherished memories and a guide for a fulfilling life.
Thank you, Dad, for teaching me this wonderful sport.
