Fishing

Fishing Out of Your Comfort Zone

Recently, I revisited the memory of my very first fishing trip with my parents as the fourth of July holiday marked the first trip I had ever taken or at least could remember some thirty-one years ago. My mother had told me that I had been fishing when I was only two in the Overton Arm of Lake Mead fishing for Blue Gills and Crappie. She must be right, since she was there and maintains better recall than I do in those early formative years. Yet, the one trip I remember was when I was seven scurrying down a trail near the lake to get to a point where my father was already fishing. With my rod in hand, donning a night crawler and roughly four feet of...
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