03-28-2010, 03:32 AM
I’m getting a too little old to be getting lessons, especially from a 6 year old, but today I got one.
It was around noon when Wrongway Johnson and I returned to the launch ramp at Lincoln Beach to meet his daughter and pick up his grandson, Ryan, for a few hours fishing in the afternoon .
The morning was cold and windy with white caps on the lake that didn’t lay down until late morning. Still the afternoon promised to be sunny and warming and the young fella was determined to go fishing with his grandpa. Who was I to argue? If the boy wanted to go, I wasn’t about to stand in his way.
I’ve fished with young master Ryan a couple of times in the past, both on Utah Lake and for pike at Redmond. If ever there was an enthusiastic angler, Ryan is it. He began fishing with his grandfather about the time he could toddle around and Wrongway has spoiled the boy with a couple of rods and reel that are his own. Although a bit young to have mastered fishing knots, the boy has the casting down pat. A couple of times during the afternoon when I saw his lure splash far from the boat I had to give him a second take. Lord, can that little kid cast and bait fishing is absolutely out of the question….it’s lures or nothing for this young feller.
We had fished around the shallows and at the mouth of the slough. The electric motor moved the three of us slowly along as we cast jigs with grubs for white bass and the unlikely walleye. Water temperatures were around 45 degrees and warming. Ryan would interrupt his casting occasionally to study the depth finder mounted on the console. After a while I heard him tell his grandfather that “the water was too shallow here and we should try over by where all the boats were”. Neither of us wanted to argue, after all we weren’t doing too well where we were, but instead of starting the big motor it was deciding we would slow troll over the 1,000 yards or so to the “L” with the electric motor.
I asked Ryan if he wanted to try a bottom bouncer with a worm harness. It was obvious that he didn’t want to consider fishing with a worm, but became more receptive to the idea of bottom bouncing when his grandfather explained that this wasn’t like fishing with a worm on a bobber, but rather a way to slowly troll a worm on a tandem hook with a spinner in front of the worm to attract fish and a lead weight to get the outfit on the bottom where the fish generally live, he started to warm up to the idea.
The rig was dropped to the bottom and the rod placed in the rod holder with him standing nearby watching the tip intently. I figured this was an exercise in futility and busied myself rigging another rod for our arrival at the “L”.
“A bite, a bite,” he said. I looked at the rod tip and could not discern anything that looked like a fish on the line, but didn’t say anything. Ryan deftly removed the rod from the holder, dropped the tip and took up slack until it was apparent that there was, indeed, a fish on his line. Rod in hand he jumped to the aft deck and worked the fish, now thrashing, around the big motor and into the net his grandfather held. When the small male walleye came aboard and Ryan grabbed it with the fishing pliers for a picture I don’t know who was prouder, Ryan or his grandfather. The three of us beamed with happiness. “Thanks grandpa”, he stated. “Thanks Henline” he then said as he placed the fish in the live well. “Now, let’s go catch another one.”
A feeling as warm as the afternoon sun swept over me. I thought to myself, “No…….. Thank YOU, young master Ryan. Thank you for the lesson and for reaffirming what fishing is really about!”
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It was around noon when Wrongway Johnson and I returned to the launch ramp at Lincoln Beach to meet his daughter and pick up his grandson, Ryan, for a few hours fishing in the afternoon .
The morning was cold and windy with white caps on the lake that didn’t lay down until late morning. Still the afternoon promised to be sunny and warming and the young fella was determined to go fishing with his grandpa. Who was I to argue? If the boy wanted to go, I wasn’t about to stand in his way.
I’ve fished with young master Ryan a couple of times in the past, both on Utah Lake and for pike at Redmond. If ever there was an enthusiastic angler, Ryan is it. He began fishing with his grandfather about the time he could toddle around and Wrongway has spoiled the boy with a couple of rods and reel that are his own. Although a bit young to have mastered fishing knots, the boy has the casting down pat. A couple of times during the afternoon when I saw his lure splash far from the boat I had to give him a second take. Lord, can that little kid cast and bait fishing is absolutely out of the question….it’s lures or nothing for this young feller.
We had fished around the shallows and at the mouth of the slough. The electric motor moved the three of us slowly along as we cast jigs with grubs for white bass and the unlikely walleye. Water temperatures were around 45 degrees and warming. Ryan would interrupt his casting occasionally to study the depth finder mounted on the console. After a while I heard him tell his grandfather that “the water was too shallow here and we should try over by where all the boats were”. Neither of us wanted to argue, after all we weren’t doing too well where we were, but instead of starting the big motor it was deciding we would slow troll over the 1,000 yards or so to the “L” with the electric motor.
I asked Ryan if he wanted to try a bottom bouncer with a worm harness. It was obvious that he didn’t want to consider fishing with a worm, but became more receptive to the idea of bottom bouncing when his grandfather explained that this wasn’t like fishing with a worm on a bobber, but rather a way to slowly troll a worm on a tandem hook with a spinner in front of the worm to attract fish and a lead weight to get the outfit on the bottom where the fish generally live, he started to warm up to the idea.
The rig was dropped to the bottom and the rod placed in the rod holder with him standing nearby watching the tip intently. I figured this was an exercise in futility and busied myself rigging another rod for our arrival at the “L”.
“A bite, a bite,” he said. I looked at the rod tip and could not discern anything that looked like a fish on the line, but didn’t say anything. Ryan deftly removed the rod from the holder, dropped the tip and took up slack until it was apparent that there was, indeed, a fish on his line. Rod in hand he jumped to the aft deck and worked the fish, now thrashing, around the big motor and into the net his grandfather held. When the small male walleye came aboard and Ryan grabbed it with the fishing pliers for a picture I don’t know who was prouder, Ryan or his grandfather. The three of us beamed with happiness. “Thanks grandpa”, he stated. “Thanks Henline” he then said as he placed the fish in the live well. “Now, let’s go catch another one.”
A feeling as warm as the afternoon sun swept over me. I thought to myself, “No…….. Thank YOU, young master Ryan. Thank you for the lesson and for reaffirming what fishing is really about!”
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