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Three's A Charm

By Susan Oloier

Found in: | Outside | Fishing | Spin Fishing |

Fishing with an adult is a far different experience than fishing with a child. For grown-ups, there is usually an appreciation for the process and a patience that seems to accompany the journey toward the reward. For kids, it is all about the end result.

My husband and I are not big fisher-people. However, my dad purchased a light-weight rod and reel for our five-year-old early in the summer and offered to take him fishing at a private lake nearby when he and my mom came to visit. It was Justin's first outing. Aside from practicing casting and capturing a few weeds, Justin had no luck with the fish. "I'm bored," he declared, so we gathered the tackle box and headed home. Maybe next time.

Huck Finn Days are held as part of a summer program for kids at Ridgway State Park at the Pa Co Chu Puk ponds. As part of the event, the park hosts a fishing derby for children. The waters are amply stocked with rainbow trout, which means that some lucky kid or two should hook something. Our visit there marked Justin's second attempt at catching a fish, so we hoped that he would be one of the lucky ones.

When we made our camping reservations in Ridgway, we knew nothing about Huck Finn Days. We happened to venture into the Visitor Center to look around and gather some information about the area. That's when the woman behind the counter told us about the fishing event that weekend. We had planned to go rock climbing in neighboring Ouray, but since Justin is not a fan of the rock, he lobbied for fishing instead. We gave in. The park provided a rod and reel for each child, along with worms and salmon eggs for bait. A pretty good deal, especially considering it was free of charge. We meandered out to the ponds for another try.

Along with the freebies, there were numerous volunteers around to help out. I imagine if we were of the squeamish variety, the volunteers would gladly have put the bait on Justin's hook. Though Jeff and I have not fished since we were children, we managed to set up Justin's hook on our own.

With so many people around, we sent his line sailing into the middle of the pond for him. Though he had practiced casting with my dad, there was no sense in subjecting innocent people - and their clothing, eyes, and skin - to renegade fishing hooks. We waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. Kids were strewn along the banks of both ponds. The drifting fishing lines reminded me of snake tracks in the sand with their slight curl marks on the surface of the water. Bobbers wafted gently with the breeze, yet not a single one went under.

"Keep your eye on the bobber," we would encourage. "Take in some line," we would suggest. But Justin was tired of waiting for the elusive fish. He wanted the whole affair to be over, so he ran through a laundry list of excuses: "I'm tired of waiting"; "I'm getting hungry"; "It's not even moving!"

We switched from worms to salmon eggs and back again, hoping to make Justin's fishing experience a successful one. It wasn't. As he sat on a rock, he decided he had enough. He turned his rod into a gun, shooting imaginary fish in the water, declaring his boredom for the whole venture. "Let's just cast it out one more time," we offered. "Oh man," was his dejected answer.

He was ready to do something else: eat a granola bar, catch grasshoppers on the walkway, anything but sit in boredom while watching a bobber that would seemingly never go under. And it never did. We wrapped it up, handed our remaining bait to one of the volunteers, and headed out. Just as we did, the girl beside Justin landed the first fish of the day. There was always next time.

In one final attempt to lure Justin into fishing, my dad took him to the lake one last time. We knew if he didn't experience success, this would be the end of the sport for him. Despite our neutral status toward fishing, Jeff and I still wanted Justin to catch something outside of weeds or the proverbial boot. As daylight began to wane, we were off to a bad start. The snells tangled like necklaces interwoven in a jewelry box. Accustomed to this sort of dilemma, I eventually unlaced them. My dad put a simple worm on a hook and cast the line out for Justin. We held out hope that, indeed, Justin finally would catch a fish.

On the second cast, Justin had a bite. He pleaded with my dad to help him reel in, but my dad left it all up to the budding fisherman to bring in his first catch. And Justin did. A blue gill. We took pictures and video - it was amazing the fish was still alive by the end of the photo shoot - then we threw it back in. "I wanted to cook it," Justin lamented for a moment. But too excited by the thrill of his first fish, he quickly forgot about his appetite for blue gill. I guess it's safe to say that when it comes to fishing, it is important to be patient. Especially when you're fishing with a five-year-old.