People enjoy the warm weather, afternoon fishing, and the setting sun at Alvord Lake in Cesar Chavez Park in Laveen, Ariz., in late November.
When my wife and I moved back to Central Texas a couple of decades ago, I got to reconnect with all the favorite fishing spots I’d had growing up here, and I also got to reunite with my favorite fishing buddy — my dad.
Whether we’d be out on the boat or ankling it through the high grass to the honey holes that only local anglers could know about, we always had a good time, and usually caught at least enough for dinner.
He also introduced me to some of the guys he’d been fishing with since I had moved away, and one friend, who I’ll call “Hoyt” because I think that was his name, came along with us one day to catch some crappie at the boat slip.
Dad and I had already put a few fish on the stringer by the time we saw Hoyt’s truck pull in, and I was surprised at how fast he drove, remarking that he must be in a hurry to fish.
Well, driving wasn’t the only thing that Hoyt did fast. He got out, grabbed some poles and a tackle box out of the back, and almost sprinted down the ramp to the dock. When he saw that we had already caught some fish, he went to work almost frantically tying on hooks, clamping on weights, and baiting up.
After lowering his baits into the water, Hoyt paced the dock while keeping a sharp eye on the rod tips. When one would start to bounce, he’d pounce on it and start cranking.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted. He was a good guy, but he never stopped moving — like a tennis player waiting on a 100 mile-per-hour serve to come flying at him.
On the way home, Dad said that Hoyt’s doctor had told him that his intense focus on work was hurting his health and he needed to make time for recreation. Something like fishing might just be the thing to relax and disconnect from the stresses of his job.
Well, that didn’t work, and a few months later, Hoyt’s blood pressure and other vitals hadn’t improved at all, so he gave up fishing and took up golf. He explained how he was good enough at fishing to pressure himself into getting better at casting and other skills, but he was so bad at golf that there was no reason to stress about wayward shots and missed putts.
I fall into both the “serious” and the “casual” fisherman categories, depending on the situation. Recently, I’ve been more like Hoyt — hard-nosed fishing, trying to put some fillets in the freezer while the weather is nice. But on the days when the fish aren’t cooperating, I’m perfectly happy counting turtles sunning on laydown logs, watching the waves lap at the shoreline, or just drifting with the breeze.
With 2020 in its final days, a lot of people are looking to 2021 for relief, making promises to exercise, eat better, and so on. My personal goals for the new year include staying alive, getting outdoors more, doing my part to beat back the pandemic, and hanging on to the lessons I’ve learned over the past nine months.
There’s nothing magic about a new calendar year. Like days, weeks, months, centuries, and even seconds, the only thing making them different is the people making a difference. Don’t hate the year 2020. It just came along. It was the people in charge who made it what it was.
I will eat some black-eyed peas and sweet potato pie for luck just in case, but then I’m gonna suit up and work like Hoyt to make 2021 a better year.
Applause for the baggers
I’ve spent a lot of time and space in this column pointing out the ugliness of litter, but I’d much rather shine the spotlight on folks who’re doing things right.
One warm afternoon last week, the urge got the best of me and I loaded up a kayak and headed to the lake to catch something for dinner.
After launching, I paddled past a young couple fishing from the shore, and after exchanging wishes of luck, continued across to the opposite shoreline to drag a spinnerbait through some timber and along an old roadbed.
A little while later, I noticed some movement across the way, and saw that they were packing up to leave. He was picking up the rods and other gear, and she was emptying their drink containers.
As she finished dumping their drinks, I watched and wondered what would happen next — would she toss the cans on the ground or not? There was so much other garbage on the ground that a few more cans and wrappers wouldn’t make a difference, but she stuffed their cans in a bag and walked away with it.
If everybody carried a trash bag, we’d have a lot more nice places to go. Nobody wants to have their kids or dogs running around and playing in somebody else’s nasty trash.
Need a little incentive to clean up some messes? Check out Group W Bench Litter Patrol’s program that lets folks pick up litter and exchange it for a gift card. Visit the group’s Facebook page for more details, as well as other opportunities to clean up and beautify our part of Texas.
December 27, 2020 at 04:39AM
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Outdoors: Either hard-nosed or lazy fishing can bring enjoyment - Waco Tribune-Herald
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