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Discussion Starter · #21 ·
Both my boys started bobber fishing in local lakes when they were 5 or 6. I would tow the driftboat around and they caught enough fish to have fun. When they were about ten they got a two-handed and started going to the river to learn. Once they turned 11 they got to go to the Snake for a five day fishing trip each fall. It took K two years to get his first fish to hand. His younger brother O got his first within 20 minutes the first morning.

They both still fish with me when they can and I treasure those times very much. This last November K and I spent five days together on the Snake and touched zero fish. It was still a great trip. One afternoon after fishing hard all day in a strong wind, I had hit a wall and was ready for cocktails at the cabin. He was leading the way down a run that at low water you can keep fishing all the way around a rocky point. We had fished it several times that trip but had always pulled out at the point. As darkness was falling I kept waiting for him to pull out but away he went around the point - throwing perfect cast after perfect cast. I shook off my grump and followed him. When we met up at the end of the run in the dark he said I should have pulled out but it looked fishy and I don’t get to fish with you that often. I almost cried I was so proud.

Enjoy your time on the water with them as they grow up too quickly.
Lovely story. Thanks for sharing! Moments we dream of and will cherish deeply.
 

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Discussion Starter · #22 ·
Tomorrow is the Hallmark Holiday known as Father's Day. My two sons took my wife and I out for dinner tonight. We are so proud of them which is just how parents should feel. When they arrive in our life we think we can mold them but creating a fisherman is not so easy.

When my oldest was five or six I took him out to the Feather River to fish for steelhead or actually to watch me fish for steelhead. In no time he was bored watching me cast repetitively with no results and wanted to go home. There were spent salmon on the bar, some of them pretty ripe. I took out my pocket knife and dissected one of the "fresher" fish showing him the gills, the heart, the shrunken stomach the bones and explained each to him. Then I gave him my knife and set him to work on a corpse of his choosing and waded back out. He went at it with a will. When we got back home his mother was appalled by my choice of babysitters and her reeking first child.

He learned to fish but never found the predator spirit that all fishermen share. Thirty years later he is a little squeamish about slimy things and maybe I contributed to that. As parents we make a lot of mistakes but mostly our kids forgive us for them.

A rare float on the Dolores with the boys. Keeping their slalom boats race ready was a challenge.

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The Middle Fork of the Salmon. Number one son rowed the kitchen barge.

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I could out fish them but never out paddle them.
that is quite a first outing LOL! Lessons learned. Thanks for taking the time to write.
 
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