We ain’t just fishing

• Outdoor columnist Ben Smith shares memories made while fishing with his daughter.

If you’ve been keeping score over the last few months, you know that I sold my boat. Selling your boat when it’s 40 degrees and raining is pretty easy to do. You’re so cold you couldn’t possibly ever imagine going back out on the water. You watch someone pull away with it while having money in your hands to “do so many other things”. Then, winter fades to spring and spring to summer. All your buddies are posting pictures catching fish and you’re left sitting on the back porch staring at the trees wondering why in the heck you sold your boat.

After doing a little bank fishing a couple of weeks ago, I caught a fever. I also caught some kind of weird rash on my legs that’s kept me itching for two weeks, but that’s another story. I had so much fun catching those ditch pickles, something that I haven’t felt in a long time. Bass fishing has been a last resort fish for me for a while. I’m a percentages guy, and one fish per 87 casts just ain’t my thing. Plus, I don’t really enjoy eating them that much, so I’ve avoided even going for the most part. 

But this newfound happiness got my feet moving a little. I have two kayaks that have been hanging in my garage since we moved two years ago, and it was time to get them down. I was a little worried of what might be nesting in them as I lowered them to the ground. Fortunately, they were empty, and the only birds nest I had to worry about would be from poor casting. I got the kayaks down and got my oldest daughter to join me for a quick trip to a local private lake. I don’t really have that much gear when it comes to bass fishing anymore, but I figured we couldn’t go wrong with some black worms with a firetail since my dad has sworn by them for almost 70 years. 

We successfully launched the kayaks with neither of us falling out of them. Phase one was complete. There was essentially no breeze, which made for a hot trip, but also made it easier to paddle and fish. We hadn’t been on the water five minutes before Mackenzie hooked into a nice two pound bass. This moment was without a doubt the happiest that I’ve been in the last month. I needed it. I could tell that she needed it too. 

She was so giddy that she caught the first fish. She made a point to rub it in my face too, something that would usually fire me up. But what can you do in a moment like that other than just wear it? I got a little kick out of the fact that she still needed Dad to remove it from the hook. I tried to convince her that this was a joint catch since she needed my help and that I got credit for half of it. She wasn’t having any of that. 

I pretended to be agitated that she caught the first fish while I was removing the hook, but in reality my heart was so full that I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. All that I could think about was how my oldest baby was getting so grown so fast. If I had the ability to stop time I would have stopped it right there and lived in it forever. Luckily for me, and I don’t know how much longer this will last, she still doesn’t think it’s too uncool to go fishing with Dad. 

Now, I’m not sure how many times I’ll have to go bass fishing to get back into the swing of things, but my skills have certainly diminished from the last time we went. I cast until my arms hurt, rarely ever landing my lure where I wanted it to go. And keeping the boat pointed in the direction that I needed it to be in order to cast was a challenge in itself, even without any wind. To say that I was a bit rusty would have been a major understatement. I was downright awful, but I was sure enjoying watching Mackenzie fish. 

We fished for a little while longer catching a couple more before we resorted to kayak racing across the lake. I smoked her, of course, before we decided to call it a night. I figured since she’d out-fished me that I had to create something that I could win for the day to keep her grounded a little. She led the way back toward the truck as I trailed behind her a short distance. The last shimmer of sunlight on the water faded to black while porch lights from the houses on the lake dotted the shoreline. The few remaining ducks on the lake flew off to roost for the night. 

Watching her silhouette paddle ahead of me, I couldn’t help but think about the journey we’ve been on for the last month. When my wife lost her father, a part of her died with him. She was a daddy’s girl for sure, and they made a lot of great memories over the years together. I hold out hope that this little trip sticks with Mackenzie for one day when I’m gone. There comes a time in all of our lives, if we are lucky, when all that we have left are the memories that we create with the people we love.  If Mackenzie can look back one day with half of the fondness for her father the way my wife looks back on her dad, then we’ve done alright.