mine is a summer when i was 15. i fished the illinois river in oklahoma every day from dawn till dusk. if a person could pick thier heaven, i would go back to that summer.
Difficult answer…sooo many…
Top 5, not ranked…
- Fishing for Golden Trout in Yosemite with my maternal Grandparents when I was 10 or 11 years old. Caught a 12" Golden Trout in Lake Vogelsang, after hiking in 8 miles from Toulumne Meadows. Grandmother was a Polio survivor, and was told she would never walk as a child… She was in her late 40’s when she took me and my two cousins on this trip. She died less than a decade later… That was the last fishing trip I had with her before she deid.
- Fishing for Sand Sharks in San Francisco Bay off of Redwood City with my paternal grandparents when I was 10 or eleven years old. Caught over a dozen of the sharks, all 3-4 feet long.
- Flyfishing for Rainbow Trout, Brown Trout and Dubbel (Chubs) on the Eider RIver in West Germany with my Father in the 90’s… I have been fishing with my father a total of three times in my life, next week will be #4. My father was out of my life until I was 17. So, these few trips are special.
- Flyfishing the Kenai Peninsula with my brother and father in 2000. Fished for Red Salmon, Rainbow Trout and Dolley Varden for a whole week. Stayed in Seward. This was my first trip to Alaska, and gave me the bug.
- Kayakfishing in Prince William Sound Alaska in 2007 with my friend Allen. We caught huge Lingcod in the 44" range and so many 20-25 lb Halibut in two days of fishing that we lost count after 20 each day. Saw some Humpbacks Whales withing 50 feet of my kayak, as well as a Harbor Seal, Sea Otters, a Grizzly Bear and Killer Whales. Also caught several Pink Salmon, and hooked and lost at the kayak, two nice Silver Salmon.
As you can see, hard to decise which is the most memorable…
Every trip out with my dad.
I don’t fish any more, but I now go along to walk the stream while he fishes.
we’re in the same state. would you mind telling me what is your dads fave stream to fish?
all sound great!
He’s in Pennsylvania.
York and Adams counties in Pennsylvania. I can give you a list of places we’ve fished as I was growing up.
But, I haven’t fished since I moved to MD 8 or so years ago.
best fishing memory …
...... that is really a tough one !!
I've given it alot of thought , and honestly I can't pin it to a single or even a small number of fishing memories . Everytime I recall a time out fishing , it has been either alone or with cheerished persons of my life .
There have been many different places fished , different types of fish sought after , different enviroments fished in , and different methods used to get to them .
It all started when I was a kid , my best childhood friend , his dad would take us fishing several times a year . Same friend and I were regularly dropped off at local waters on weekends to fish and explore until we got picked up again later in the day .
That expanded into other friends of our pack , when we were old enough to drive , we began to cover every concievable pond on the Eastern Shore from aluminum Jon boats .
I began my first Bay Bridge capable boat project (a derelict 16' ply rowboat) , in search of the famed and legendary Chesapeake Striper ... the Stripers fame (in my case) was due to a man named Mr.Warren who ran a local bait shop in my town .
As a boy when I came into his place to buy nightcrawlers , he would always show me his massive commercial ice chest stacked with gigantic Stripers he has just caught in it , and then proceed to tell this wide eyed boy of marvelous adventures , great quest in hunt of these elusive beasty Stripers .
He would smile at me and spin his yarn of tale and lore all the while knowing I was splitting at the seams , foaming at the mouth ... this Mr.Warren , this bait shop , was a regular scene in my youth and growing years ... and I longed to chase these Stripers , catch one , just as soon as I was old enough , mobile enough to go after them ... enter my driving license and first bay worthy boat (the derelict row boat) to hunt the bridge and follow his directions and motivations to the letter .
All that year I faithfully repeated his secret technique as advised , time and time again , thousands of cast around the poles with the bucktails he sold me ... I would come scouring back to him after total and exhusted failures , and ask why , what was I doing wrong ?? He would say I maybe wasn't holding my mouth right , or ask if could I smell the fish ?? ... just keep trying , it will happen soon !!!
Believe it or not , I tried holding my mouth many different ways , I tried to determine if I could smell the fish down there ... both were critical factors that had to be mastered !!
There was magic to all this , one had to earn the right to experience the magic , had to keep the faith , had to believe that it could be passed on by another , had to want it soooo bad that you could taste it , that it would keep you up at nights thinking about it , driving you crazy !!!
One had to enter this world alone , walk the sweat and fear trodden paths laid by forefathers and seekers of old ...
Then ...... out of the blue , it happened , almost at the end of my fortitude and will , months and months of failures ... I got a bite !!!
My natural reaction was to haul that rod tip straight up in the air with all my might ... when I did it jolted to stop , the hook set hard , I held on to my rod and reel for all I was worth , it was like a freight train was on the other end , I had never felt anything like it before ... and the battle of that first Striper was an event to be written on the slates of history , a world changing episode , the age of a new eon was rained in , and the quest for that first Striper remains to this day ... everytime I have hooked one since is almost as if it is the first again !!!
My latest most best memory was on a shallow windy pond in a canoe a weekend ago with , guess who ??
to thank you for sharing the thrill of fishing stripers with me. i did feel as if i was being pulled overboard by a train. i can see how a person could get that into thier blood. i also have many memories of fishing that are special.most of them include you.
i did notice you said you watch and not fish now with your dad. is there some reason you don’t fish any more?
I don’t fish enough to warrant a MD fishing license. Though, at the start of this season - I was paddling with a couple of friends who fish pretty often. I almost got one for that.
In Pennsylvania, they want $30 for a week or $60 for a year of fishing. I really only expect to go fishing 2 weekends per year. I just can’t justify the expense of it.
If PA pulled it’s head out of it’s derrier and only charged, $10 for a weekend - I’d consider it. But, alas - they make it cost prohibitive.
…but not on the big rivers. Up in the NE sector of the park on Soda Butte Creek. There must have been 15-20 cutbow trout on a feeding frenzy in the midst of a huge number of emergers. Tied on a bead-head Prince nymph and cast the fly into the middle of the boil. Second cast took a 24" cutbow - largest I’ve ever caught in the Park.
The other was when I was an 11 year-old kid growing up in Chicago. My cousin’s father took my cousin, my Dad and me out onto Lake Michigan one night off Highland Park. The army was dredging a channel from a barge and had work lights on the water at night. The lights were like magnets to a school of jumbo perch. We were using cane poles with double hooks. We couldn’t pull them in fast enough. Sometimes we ended up with a fish on both hooks. Within 90 minutes, we caught more than 300 of these large perch. First time and only time in my life that I actually got tired of fishing. We divvied up the fish and gave them was gifts to neighbors on our block - and the next block over - and the next… What a hoot!
Any of the times I fished in the BWCA.
One in particular I was catching sunfish, reeling one in, and suddenly the pole bent over - after a long fight, a huge northern pike was pulled up next to the canoe with a sunfish sticking out of its mouth. He got away.
Probably the favorite was during the summer, I helped my ol’ man at work. We were working horrible long hours, at hard work all summer. He woke up me and my brother at 5:00 am for work. We all went out, he drove to the lake, and took us fishing instead. Probably one of my favorite memories of my Dad. The fishing was great. The memory was priceless.
i recently paid for a week end license to fish for small mouth during the pre spawn. my man tried to talk me into buying the full year but i couldn’t justify it. it was 10 years since i had fished the small mouth in pa. he goes enough to get the yearly but alas, i have to work. i will say i did get a fabulous kodak moment for my money though. nice 20 inch 3.5 pounder. all my my space friends are jealous.
tired of fishing....trying to wrap my brain around that....sounds incredible.
i have seen
some great videos of big pike taking smaller catches off the hook. i am still waiting for my chance to fish for northern pike. we have some great pickerels around here. i have caught some good ones. i have lost some better ones.
no doubt about it …
… this is how it is with this gal … she get’s that rod and reel in her hand and it will stay in action non stop till take out (except when she has to grab a paddle , lol) … that would be early morning till dark of night sets in … she is a fishin marathoner , my kinda gal !!
the last time I went fishing.
I’ve done a lot of fishing - offshore, flyfishing in beautiful mountain streams, etc., but I have to say that my favorite memory comes from junior high, about 6th grade. I was the middle of three boys - an overachieving older brother, a rambunctious, outgoing younger brother, and I was the quiet middle child, sometimes felt a little forgotten. I remember during the fall of my 6th grade year, my older brother was off winning trophies at something, I don’t know what my younger brother was doing, but just my dad and I went down one weekend to our bayhouse, and took the 14’ aluminum jonboat out into the shallow little coves on a cold, overcast fall morning, just the two of us. Caught several nice flounder that trip.
Remember to cut and paste because the p-net hyperlinks don't like "#" characters.
What remains in the brain LR...is the terrain/environment..weather too, peatbogs with springholes, dense flyhatches, wildlife(birds, moose, deer, bear, fox, rabbits..etc..and blackflies Yes!), NO WIND!!..LOL...and after cleaning the couple of smaller trout kept..would raid the logging camp's dining hall cubboard where newly baked chocolate cream pies were kept...didn't fit into ANY of my pants once I returned to upper NYS home(in Sept. 66')...LOL.
The large brooktrout were new to me, but over time it was, and still is...the remote terrain of Maine that is still relatively wild...that stays with oneself. Logging firms cut but then leave for years. I enjoy checking back regularly to the area to see what Man thinks about accomplishing. Used to spend summers with granddad who hiked around tallying/scaling the wood cut for paper company...before mechanical harvesting entered the picture.