I really did think fishing was primitive, a mindless passing of time. But now I'm addicted. There's something deeply exciting about battling an unseen creature from the deep - to see your line race left, then right, your pole bending to the breaking point as you struggle with your drag. I love to clench my teeth as my eyes race over the water and my hands feel the resistance of pure muscle. Ah, as I lift the creature out of the water it is now my decision.
Sure fishing is a fun family activity.
The kids giggle as they pull out a dangling crappie and name him Bubbles. But that's not what keeps me up at night. It's the idea of being alone, the wind and rain whipping across Goose Island. I lower the brim of my cap to protect my eyes and continue casting into the waves. Then the big ones start biting. . .