[Hillbilly Boater]

We've all had them. Moments that capture our imagination as outdoorsman, that define the essence of an experience for which we strive, maybe not in the same way, but we try to capture the essence of the experience where ever we go for the rest of our lives. Sometimes it's on a stream, a lake, in a tree stand or out on the ocean. Where ever it is, it's the purest form of an outdoor experience that we can have.

For me one of these moments came when I was 13 and my Dad took me on my first trout fishing trip. We traveled to the mountains of central
PA and my Dad took me to a mountain stream that he had been fishing for years. I had never trout fished before, but knew how to fish and I wandered off down stream from my Dad. I came to this crystal clear pool in a bend in the creek. It was one of the most beautiful spots I'd ever seen to that point in my life. There was a big hemlock tree in the bend surrounded by rhododendron and mountain laurel. I drifted a worm down under the hemlock and a beautiful mountain brook trout grabbed the worm and hung on as the line came to the surface. For just a moment that brook trout hung on, with the sunlight shining on it. The colors were spectacular in the sunlight, reds, orange, blues and greens just glowing. As I tried to set the hook, the trout let go and disappeared back into the pool. I never did catch that trout, but to this day that image haunts me in its purity, wildness and beauty.

I've been fortunate to have traveled to many beautiful places in my life. I've been on mountain tops in the wilderness on Wyoming, climbed cliffs in the Sierras, fished lakes at 11,000 in Montana, hunted in the north of Canada, fished in the Keys and Mexico, but no matter where I go, that brook trout haunts me and keeps me looking for that one truely pure outdoor experience.

We've all had them lets hear yours.

 

[Bend-Lure]

For me it wasn't one moment, but one season. I spent the summer after I graduated from VT in remote (I mean very remote) Alaska fly fishing for rainbow trout in every tributary to the King Salmon River. I was lucky to realize then that i was in heaven. The big country, mountains, undisturbed wildneress. The brown bears, salmon, bald eagles. The isolation, peacefulness, quiet. The streams and river, the northern lights, the fish. I look back on those days fondly. I always will. That was the outdoors experience of a lifetime for me. It didn't matter that I got paid to do it. I would have done it for free. I measure all other outdoor experiences against that summer.

 

[WiFiGuy]

First boat, first Rock

As a kid I couldn't stay out of the streams and creeks near my house. I'd go fishing whenever I could, catching mostly bluegills and the occasional catfish on worms and cheese with my Zebco 202. When I got my drivers license at 16, I started renting boats at Sandy Point, and used bloodworms to catch Yellow Perch and Spot by the bridge pilings. As time went on, I dreamed about having a boat of my own that I could use to fish and crab from in the Bay whenever I wanted. In 1991 I got a big deal at work and decided to take the plunge and finally get that boat I had been dreaming about.

That spring, after working hard to get the boat outfitted and rigged, a picture-perfect Saturday dropped out of the sky and I decided to finally see what I could do. I had read in the Sun about some Rock being caught around Love Point by trollers, but I really had no idea what to use or where to go. Since I was by myself and had never trolled before, I decided to put just a single rod out. Once I arrived at Love Point, I tossed a brand new, super shiny #14 Tony off the stern and proceeded to drag it through the water behind 8 ounces of in-line lead.

After fishing for about half an hour with nothing to show for the effort, I started to second guess everything that I was doing. As I thought about all the things that I most certainly was doing wrong, I let the boat run from about 20 ft. into about 8 feet of water. As I yanked the wheel in disgust and started to throttle up for deeper water, I noticed the rod tip drop. Thinking it was a snag, I picked up the rod to jerk the Tony free and felt something tugging on the other end.

I quickly got the slack out of the line and realized to my surprise that I had in fact hooked a fish. It turned out to be a 30+ inch Rockfish that looked to have stripes running down its sides that were about as long as the boat itself. Although I wasn't sure about what to do, I reeled in the line to the swivel, then grabbed the leader and brought the fish broadside to the boat within about a foot of the surface.

At that moment, and this would be the "Crystaline Moment" in this story, I remember staring down at that fish. I could see him looking up at me with his black and yellow eyes, gulping in water while softly finning and swishing his tail. I remember being pretty much dumbfounded when I got a good look at him. Not only was he the biggest fish that I had ever caught, but I was very surprised by his coloring. It seemed to just jump off his body and didn't look anything at all like the dead Rockfish I was used to seeing at the grocery store.

Being the novice that I was back then, I made no attempt to lip him into the boat. I wasn't going to put my fingers anywhere near his mouth without knowing that I'd get them all back. That and the concept of using a net were things that Bluegills and Yellow Perch hadn't yet taught me.

Anyway, Mr. Rock and I stared each other down for a second or two and since I had done about all I could do, he decided that it was time to end our little visit. He sort of rolled off the Tony in a single motion and I remember watching him swim off, none worse for the experience.

Although I was somewhat disappointed at the time that I didn't get the fish into the boat, I am happy now that he got away. For me, that first boat-first Rock deserves to live on in memory only.

 

[Barefoot]

Fishing in Canada, moving along a weedline we knew well. As we approach a spot where we'd seen and caught muskies before, I picked up a big bucktail and heaved it over the top of the weeds. It was a crystal clear day, no wind, so the visibility into the water was great.

About mid cast, as the lure is coming into view, I switch angles of the retrieve. This change in motion of the lure will sometimes trigger a fish.

About a boatlength away, it just appeared behind the lure, following at the speed of my retrieve. Biggest muskie I'd ever seen. I froze and shouted "Look at That"

The fish froze and watched the lure start to sink past his nose, and my brother yells "Figure 8, Figure 8" I realize that I had choked, and start cranking as I started sweeping the rod.

The fish moves again, keeping just behind the lure. I swing the lure in a big arc at my feet. The fish follows as the lure heads 180 degrees in the other direction, opens his big mouth in what seems like slow motion, and just swims back down into the weeds.

It was probably 20 years ago, and I can remember it like it was this afternoon.

 

[Hillbilly Boater]

Nice stuff there folks. That's what I'm talking about. Keep it cominig. It seems the one that got-a-way is one to remember.:thumbup:

 

[Hillbilly Boater]

For me it wasn't one moment, but one season. I spent the summer after I graduated from VT in remote (I mean very remote) Alaska fly fishing for rainbow trout in every tributary to the King Salmon River. I was lucky to realize then that i was in heaven. The big country, mountains, undisturbed wildneress. The brown bears, salmon, bald eagles. The isolation, peacefulness, quiet. The streams and river, the northern lights, the fish. I look back on those days fondly. I always will. That was the outdoors experience of a lifetime for me. It didn't matter that I got paid to do it. I would have done it for free. I measure all other outdoor experiences against that summer.

That's an experience that will last a live time. Nice!

 

[Francis]

Two very memorable moments.

One was when I caught my first really big Largemouth bass when I was like 11 or 12 on Rocky Gorge reservoir. I was so excited I was shaking uncontrolbally and my dad started getting really worried about me thinking I was having a seizure.

Second was when I caught my first 28" rockfish at the rips with Daryl. He took a poloroid picture of it. I still have it pinned to by bulletin board. It was like the first "large" rockfish I had ever caught.

 

[Hookin-Up]

( This is Jim) My "moment" was at age 5, Iwas at an Uncle's farm pond with a toy fishing rod with an earth worm I dug up and I hooked a 5 lb. largemouth. That was the first fish I ever caught. The fish started pulling my tiny butt off the muddy bank and I yelled and my Dad grabbed me and pulled me back dragging the bass up on shore. That's how my "jones" to fishing started. Now, I've infected my Son...Jamie's got it BAD!

 

[joemassi]

When I was 16, my grandfather had started to the lose his strength. He was approaching 80, and he could no longer get his boat off the roof of his car. When he wanted to go fishing, he needed to come get me so I could do the heavy lifting for him. We set up an appointment. We would go fishing every Wednesday or Thursday, depending upon the weather. Pouring rain and lots of wind would cause a cancellation. On the second time we went out, I put the boat in the water and helped him attach the 9.9 HP Evinrude. We got in the boat and headed out to spot number 1 off the point near the dam. When we got there, no one was within a mile of us. There was a little fog on the water. You could hear the loons crying. We baited our hooks and proceeded to bring up fish, bluegills, yellow perch and crappie. When I had counted 30 fish in the creel, I realized neither of us had said a word since we said "Good morning" to each other when my Grandfather pulled into the driveway at 7 that morning. We both knew what each other had wanted done. We both knew where we needed to go and how to get there. We just looked at each other and smiled knowing we had both accomplished what we set out to do. For him it was getting me to understand and enjoy fishing. For me it was coming to know what drove my grandfather to fish.

 

[wino]

It was 1954, I was 13 years old and my dad took me fishing with him and a policeman name sgt. Moody. We put his Jon boat in the Potomac river at Brookmont, this was before the pumping station was built and there was a concrete dam that went across the river. When it got hot and dry the top of the dam was exposed so you could walk on it. Behind the dam the water was flat and still, under the dam there was rushing water. Spining rods and reels had just hit the market and my Dad gave a Mitchell 300 made in France and a glass rod. The line was 8lb test mono, new to the market. We fished with minnows and caught big catfish, bluegills and a few small bass. After lunch I got this huge bite, set the hook and out of the water jumps this large smallmouth, I had never seen one so big. The fight lasted a few minutes and my Dad helped me land it. We weighed the fish on an old deliar scale and it said 6lbs. 3 oz. Largest Smallmouth I had ever seen or caught to this day. I can still remember that day and recall the smells in the air and every moment we were together. Although I have fished and hunted all over the world, caught everything an angler would want to catch in a lifetime I still remember that big bass and smile whenever I think about it.

 

[ictalurus]

Nice thread

I've got two.

My father first took me fishing when I was seven. My mother had suggested it, but I don't think she ever thought we would get so obsessed. My father had fished some with his father, but I had no idea of what to do or what to expect. We had been fishing for about 4 hours without much luck and were getting ready to call it a day when Dad suddenly hooked and landed a really nice crappie. Dad held up the line so I could see the fish and was wondering what we should do with it when I said, "Wait! I'll club it!" I grabbed a branch off the ground and swung it as hard as I could at the poor crappie, which was still hanging in the air. I still remember Dad saying (in slow motion), "Nooo! Wait!" Of course, I missed the fish by a mile but hit the line, which cause the fish, line, and branch to get wrapped up in a massive tangle the likes of which I haven't seen since. o Anyway, the crappie was big enough for a couple fish nuggets for Mom, Dad, and me for dinner that evening.

The other one happened while fishing during my honeymoon (SWMBO is awesome). I had been fly fishing for trout for 3 or 4 days and was really getting into a good rhythm with my cast and drift. I was fishing the Watauga River in Boone, NC while my new bride was reading and snoozing on the bank. I had been catching 12-14" rainbows and browns all morning and had seen several bigger fish. I saw a nice rainbow rising regularly about 25-30ft away, which was on the outer limit of my cast at the time, and the current zigzagged a good bit in the space between me and the fish. All my scant fly fishing skills aligned in a perfect zen moment. I put my fly exactly where I wanted it on the seam about two feet in front of where the fish had been rising without spooking it. My line landed so that I could get a perfect drift, the fish hammered it, and I successfully set the hook. It was one of the longest fights I ever had on a fly rod in terms of both time and space, but I still managed to land it. :clap: It was a nice, fat 14" rainbow that had gone ballistic during the fight. I'll never forget it because it was like the fish, the stream, the rod, and I were all one so that moment couldn't have happened any other way. I called it a day after that because there was no way I was going to top that moment. Not while standing in the stream, anyway. ;-)

 

[skipperwork]

I don't think my best moment involved a really big fish but it did have the element the that keeps me coming back each time. I was about 13 and had been fishing a pond near my grandparents house when it all came together. After spending several days there with only a couple of small bass and bluegill to show for my efforts I figured out a pattern that drove those fish crazy. I had just been to the Timonium show( go figure) and picked up some of those 1/16 ounce Slider heads with the orange paint. Also picked up some tiny black worms from that guy who sold all the plastic by the entrance of the show. If I casted out and swam the worm on top of the water creating a wake with the tail it would get crushed almost everytime. It felt like I had caught almost every fish in the pond with that little worm including some pretty big pickeral. Towards the end of the day my cousin came to join me and on his first cast he lost my only little worm.

 

[LY2000]

The last big blue fish blitz I witnessed on the beach near PLO about 25 years ago. We had a small cottage (Isabel took it) and fished the beach when we weren't in the boat. My dad was cooking dinner inside while my friend and I were trying to catch spot on the beach. Out of no where the water starts to boil with blues all over 10 pounds with the biggest being maybe 15. They looked like they were all 30 pounders to me. Bunker beached themselves all over the place. We called them LY. My dad comes running down the beach with some hopkins and leaders that we tied on and hooked fish on almost every cast for about a hour. All three of us threw the first a couple of blues up on the beach we caught and continued to fish with huge smiles. My dad yelled over 'throw the rest back'. I was stunned as this was the best fishing I had ever experienced. My dad saw my frustration and said 'we don't need that many, who will clean all the fish?'.

Several things crystalized for me at that moment. I have been releasing 95% of the fish I catch since then and love to cast metal where ever I am. What a great day. I saw a few blue blitzs like that out in the open water of the bay back in the day and in NC but nothing even close to it on the shore of the bay since then.

 

[Hillbilly Boater]

It's interesting that 13 seems to be a common age to have lasting impressions. Really great stories. I hope that we have a bunch more since I don't think we'll have many reports till we get some warmer weather.

 

[calpn trayt]

COOL POST, JACKIE BOY, AND ALL NICE STORIES.
i've got a few around in my hayd somewhwere, but can't seem to conjure them up anymore.
but..just last june, i was on my sons' boat(rocktrayt)

outta ches. beach. also along was his son, (my grandson
0, dottsey-boy.he was 5 at the time. it was in the evening, a beautiful evening, flat cam, and we ran into breaking trayt right off of the beach. as we were motoring around to keep up with the feesh, my grandson had one of these little bait nets, which he was holding down in the water(said he was gwanna catch a trayt in it). we laffed...but sure enuff, he starts hollering like all get out, and ,lo...he caught a litlle teeney blue claw crab in it. right after that(when we could break him away from that crabbie)
, we let him try to cast,at the breakers, which he did by himself, altho the lure went only about 5 feet. and, sure enuff...in comes , all by himseff, a 22 inch rockfeesh. i'll not forget that moment, as we had three generations on board that boat, and it just made me feel kinda fuzzy all over.
i was so happy for this little henchman, but if he ever outdoes his grand daddy again, i'm gwanna throw him overboard, and troll himm..........!!!! great post , jack!

 

[Hillbilly Boater]

Butch, Good to have you back. Great story about the grandson. You try to act like a pirate, but you're really softy at heart.

 

[JimRockfish]

Lake Catherine

My grandfather had a cabin with a boat-house on Lake Catherine in Hot Springs, Arkansas. I was 5 years old in 1959 when we went there for the week. He gave me bread to feed the sunfish (crappie/bluegill) that swam around inside the boat-house, in that crystal clear water. He had a 16-17 ft. wooden runabout with a Johnson motor. That's where I fell in love with boats, fish and the water.

Lake Catherine: Lakes & Rivers: Arkansas Parks & Tourism

We had our family reunion at Lake DeGray. Many famous bass fishing tournaments held here.
Best largemouth fishing in the world. Mountain lake resort: Degray Lake State Park, Arkansas
Rentals Arkansas fishing and water recreation: Lake Degray State Park

 

[Hillbilly Boater]

My grandfather had a cabin with a boat-house on Lake Catherine in Hot Springs, Arkansas. I was 5 years old in 1959 when we went there for the week. He gave me bread to feed the sunfish (crappie/bluegill) that swam around inside the boat-house, in that crystal clear water. He had a 16-17 ft. wooden runabout with a Johnson motor. That's where I fell in love with boats, fish and the water.

Momments like that can inspire a lifetime in the outdoors. I can relate to that experience.