Your First Time Fishing...Add Your Story Here
The Bighorn Mountains of Wyoming, the Middle Fork of the Powder River, the Tongue River, Norwood Creek: these are the places I learned to fish with my dad. I remember some of my early attempts at spin and fly casting were comical at best. My dad would set up my spinning rig, line me up on the water, and take me through the basics. He would then work up river (away from my splashing) with his deep yellow fiberglass fly rod. I remember really enjoying watching him, his creel on his side, work across the water or along the banks.
Another trip found me set-up on the bank--casting my rod in the water and a bit distracted. I was enjoying the river, my dad upstream catching fish...all was calm. Of course, I was a precocious kid, so I took to hunkering down on the bank, turning over every rock, looking for bugs and trouble. We had hiked down into the Hole in the Wall area earlier in the day, so my head was full of outlaws and cowboys. I slipped quite easily, head first, into the fast moving South Fork of the Powder River. I was able to grasp a large rock on the bank after bumping along for a wild ride. A few yelps later, my dad was fishing me out of the water...the biggest catch of the day.
We would love to hear your first fishing stories. Where were you? Who taught you? Do you remember your first fish or early experiences? Share them here...