In Pursuit of Wonder

September 28, 2017

The weather was perfect for fishing – sunny, light breeze and temperatures peaking around mid-seventies. Mom and I were going fishing with Thelma. Mom had been waiting to go fishing like a child waiting to open Christmas presents. As we drove down into the valley, Mom said, “This valley is so beautiful, I always feel myself relaxing just by driving down into it.” We turned on to Bo and Thelma’s road, which is just a small gravel drive. “So this just takes us to Thelma’s?”

 “Yes.”

Thelma’s house was hidden by tall corn until we went around a curve. Bo was out mowing the lawn. Mom pulled up by the house. I led the way to the door. Thelma was sitting on the porch. She welcomed us in. Her dog and cat greeted us too. She asked if we wanted to come in to sit and visit for a while. We were several minutes early. We went through the porch and into the kitchen. While walking into the kitchen Thelma asked, “Do you have poles?”

We replied, “No.”

“That’s ok, I have extra. Do you have fishing licenses?”

“No, we forgot about that.” I replied.  “Does someone in Kellogg sell them?”

 “Yeah, Shorty. Bo’s coming with us; we’ll need fifteen minutes to get ready. You can go ahead to Shorty’s and meet us at West Newton.”

I asked her, “Where’s Shorty’s?”

Thelma had been working on freezing apples she’d picked up from under her tree, they’d be used in pies at the Cafe; so she and Mom chatted about preserving while Thelma showed off the house she grew up in.  Bo came into the house while they were chatting. 

Thelma told Bo, “They need to go to Shorty’s to buy fishing licenses. We’ll meet ’em at West Newton.” She sent us on our way to get our licenses and instructed us to buy a box of red worms. 

Mom and I departed, driving along Highway 84, the prairie road, to Kellogg. A little after the railroad tracks another road going into Kellogg intersected Highway 84. We turned on to that and right there were a couple of sheds with boats strewn here and there in the lawn. I said, “I think this is it.” Mom pulled into the driveway and as she did I saw a sign that read, “Prairie Bait Shop”. “Yep, this is it.”

A car sat in the gravel lot and a couple of dogs barked at us as we stepped out of the jeep. As we walked toward the closer building a man stepped out the door and greeted us. Mom told him, “We’re in need of fishing licenses and bait.”

He replied, “Then you’ll need to talk to Shorty,” and gestured us inside while he held open the door. The dogs must have belonged to him because they seemed to have left when he did.

Inside the bait shop. My first impression of it was that it is so Kellogg. That is to say the Prairie Bait Shop was exactly what you’d expect to find in Kellogg, Minnesota – a small country town where hunting and fishing is life and there’s not much for formalities. It was more like a garage storing long forgotten junk than a shop selling goods. The place was cluttered with piles of antiquated fishing paraphernalia. There was an incredibly narrow u-shaped walkway around an island with questionable packaged snacks, fishing gear all around them. The bait stored in an old refrigerator on the east wall. Shorty, aptly named, moved from his chair where he sat holding court over people walking in, to another chair before his computer which seemed quite out of place. The shop was poorly lit and had very small windows. He needed our driver’s licenses and social security numbers for the fishing licenses. After swiping our driver’s licenses he’d ask if everything looked right before he continued. Then he printed each fishing licenses and asked us to sign them. He said, “$46.⁰⁰.”

Mom was about to hand him the money when I said, “We need to get bait too.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Shorty pointed to the fridge, “Bait’s in the fridge. White containers have night crawlers. Blue containers red worms.”

“She said red worms, right?”

 “Yeah,” Mom replied. I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a blue container and returned to Shorty. Mom paid him and then we headed out.

Mom said, “I don’t feel bad about spending the money since it goes to the DNR. They’re always low on funds.”

“Yeah. And Shorty’s store is just so Kellogg!”

“It really is!” We laughed.

We retraced our course back to the West Newton road, which we then turned on, driving to the end of the public road. I instructed, “Turn into Halfmoon Landing.” 

The landing driveway quickly splits into two, the boat landing and the canoe landing. “Which way?”

 “They’re probably at the boat landing.” 

A few vehicles were in the parking lot but it was far from full. “There’s Thelma’s jeep,” I pointed out. Mom parked ours next to it. We headed towards Thelma. I was amused that Bo chose to sit so far away from us.

(What’s so impressive and made this experience so special is that Thelma was 88 years old and has been fishing since the mid 1930s! She had about 80 years of fishing experience! Let that soak in and blow your mind. 80 years of fishing. The other thing that made this an incredible outing was that we were three generations of women fishing.)

Thelma sat comfortably in a lawn chair on a wooden platform between two identical wooden benches, fishing pole in hand. Her bag of supplies and gear on the ground beside her and next to it a container of red worms. On her right side, a little behind her sat a small white pail. She wore faded camo pants, a pale purple sweatshirt and a baseball cap. We came up beside her, Mom going over to the bench on her right. I set my backpack and camera bag down and the container of worms on the bench to the left.

Before I could sit, Thelma said, “Bethany, there are two fishing poles in the back of my jeep.”

So I went off to grab those. I returned a few moments later with the poles, which I handed to Thelma and then sat down. The benches were pretty simple and backless. (We started fishing around 4:20 pm.) First Thelma explained the fishing pole to us, the weights, bobbers and all that. She is a very good instructor. She gave a pole to me and told me to thread the worm on the hook. I’ve been fishing many times before, but the last time was in 2004 and the hook was baited for me; I wasn’t quite sure how to thread a wiggling, writhing worm onto a tiny fish hook. “So how do you thread it, Thelma?” 

 “Alright.” She took the pole from me, and took a worm and while she thread it on the hook explained how. Both Mom and I watched intently. “Just underneath the little head, for movement.” Once she finished threading the worm on to the hook, Thelma explained and demonstrated how to cast the line. “Bethany, hold your line [with your finger], flip your bail, and throw it out once to see how, it, yep.” I threw it out. “I think we want to put more weight on for you.”

“OK.” I reeled the line back in.

“Hold that a minute, Bethany. What we’d like to do, see kind of a dark line out there? It’s nice if we can get beyond that but if we can’t, we can’t. I think you need a split shot on both, and I do too.” Thelma reached into her fishing bag, a repurposed insulated lunch bag, searching for the package of split shot, a little metal ball with a crack passing through the middle.  

After almost a minute of rummaging through her bag, Thelma held up a packet of split shots, “I want you to slide one of these, right next to the other.”

“Ok.”

“That’s your weight. And hold it. And the important thing now is we don’t want that sinker moving up and down the line.” While I held it, she crimped the second split shot shut on the line with a needle nose plier. “That feels good. See this bugger here is not good at all.” She then crimped the original split shut, making it more secure. “Alright, now, I’ll do one cast for ya.”

“Ok.”

“…Finger.”

“Ok.”

“ Bail.” She cast the line expertly and then handed the pole to me. “Just leave it right there, yep. Looks like you got a bite.” Thelma laughed. “But you can wait. And always keep your hand on the crank. Keep excess line wound up on your reel, turn clockwise. That’s real important in catching your fish. Alright?”

“Alright.”

Thelma then turned to help Mom get all set. “Sinker, now tighten it. Alright.”

“Now you have to show me how to put a worm on,” 

“Ok. Thread the worm. For sunfish, you thread it, otherwise they’ll pull it.”

“OK.” 

She helped Mom cast then turned back to me. “Ah, yeah, you want to be different.”

“Ok.” I started to reel it in.

“Op, you’ve got a bite. Kind of let him pull it under. Keep pressure on it. Still there.”

“I think it ate my worm.”

“My goodness, you had a customer, already,” laughed Thelma. “I’m going to have you go back to the car, my car and lift up the back and I got a better fishing line for you.” Thelma instructed.

“OK.” I handed the pole back to her and walked to her jeep. Opened up the back end and grabbed out the pole.

I returned with the pole. “Ok. I think you will like this better,” Thelma said.

“Alright.”

“Great distance,” Thelma praised Mom’s cast.

After only a few moments, “I got something, I’m not sure if it’s a fish or weeds. But…Oh, there’s a fish coming right up to it. I see it.” Mom’s voice was filled with excitement.

Thelma turned to Mom, “I think it might be a fish.” After a pause, “No.”

Mom reeled in the line. “Well the fish got the worm.”

“Yep,” said Thelma.

I was focused on threading a worm on my line. “So right behind his head, you said?”

“Yeah.”

“Catch another one out of there, Bethany, and give it to me?” Mom asked, talking about a red worm.

“Do you need…?” Thelma began to ask.

“Yeah. Fish got it.”

“Alright. Yep.”

I handed a worm over then focused back on threading a worm onto my hook. “It’s tricky.” Thelma laughed at my pronouncement. “Alright. Well, I think I got him on there.”

“I tell ya, things are much easier when you are young. But if you like it enough you will put up with it. You know, obstacles. I get shaky and I can’t see to try and hook, sometimes it takes me three to four minutes to thread those small hooks. But it’s worth it. Bethany, I’ll show you about yours.”

 “OK.”

“I always like a little, and this should almost be released here because I got good tension on it. I like about that amount of line to throw out. It seems that, I can do better,” Thelma instructed. She cast the line and handed the pole to me. “Always clockwise. Yep. When you get that bite and it goes under, you want, always hold your rod,” she took the pole to demonstrate. “See?” She handed the rod back to me.

“Ok.”

“Bring him in.”

“OK.”

“Keep your rod tip high. Yep, you got a fish on it, so…”

“Oh, I do! Oh.” Thelma gave instructions on how to hook it and reel it in. The pole bent by the weight of the fish was thrilling. I felt like a little kid again, so excited to catch the first fish. My face erupted in a smile. If you’ve ever gone fishing and caught a fish almost immediately after casting your line into the water then you know how I felt. We all laughed when I pulled it in.

“Yes! I haven’t done this for twelve years, this is so…”

“Do you want a picture?” asked Thelma.

“Yeah. Mom, can you get my camera?”

“Where’s your camera?”

“It’s right behind me.”

“…They’re not necessarily like this the whole time,” Thelma warned. “I want to give your mother my rod, so…”

“Ok.”

“Man, I used to get these [sunfish] a lot. My aunt and uncle used to take me to a lake and we’d catch a whole mess of sunnies. Ok, so how do you get him off of there?”

“See, you did a good job. He didn’t swallow the hook.”

“OK.”

“Nice sunfish. Do you want to keep him?”

“Yeah! Mom likes sunfish.”

“I’m going to have you use my rod, because it’s much better.” Thelma said to Mom.

“OK,” Mom laughed. “Well I think I just need to get the hang of it.” Mom reeled in her line. “…A whole lot of weeds.”

“Yeah. Just clean that one and set it aside. I’ve got one all ready for ya. We’re going to get out where the fish are. Most of these sunfish are real real healthy. You can see him, nice good shape.”

Meanwhile, I grabbed pail tucked behind and between Mom and Thelma, and I walked down to the edge of the water, almost slipping on the damp bank and rocks.  I bent over and began filling the pail. 

“Quite a bit, a third full, honey.”

“OK. Is that good?”

“Yeah. That’s good.” While instructing Mom on how to use the rod, Thelma was taking the sunfish off my hook. “Now this operates the same as Bethany’s. If you leave a little line it’s easier to cast. Finger, flip the bail, and cast. Crank it forward. Keep your, keep your excess line drawn up. There, this is just what I like doing, watching.” We all laughed. “Just keep your line taut. You’ll get the hang of it. You gotta thread him on or they’ll pull it, eat the worm and they won’t catch on the hook.” More to Mom than me as she was getting Mom’s rod ready. “Ah, finger.”

“Finger here.”

“Flip the bail with your other hand. And it will hold there. There you go.”

“Ok.”

“Now, think where you’re going to…” Mom held the pole out from her side with her right arm. “Yep.” Then with a flick of her wrist and letting go of the string at the same time, Mom cast the line. “Good!” praised Thelma. “Now you’re fishing!” Mom laughed. “And you’re in a good spot.”

“Ok!” Mom exclaimed with a quiver of excitement in her voice. I can imagine the rush of excitement coursing through Mom’s veins as she cast out the line and waited for the first bite.

“Real good spot,” Thelma said again, enjoying the late afternoon. There was a bit of a breeze. Insects buzzed and sang. Less than a minute from the cast, “Ah, you got a bite honey.”

Mom reeled in the line. “He got another bite of the worm.” She took the last bit of worm off the hook.

“Now I’m going to show you, and Bethany, you can watch too.”

“Ok!”

“Ok, watch. I’m going to crank my line up, so I find, when I’m looking out there and get a bite, which I have, that I’m ready.” Thelma reeled in the line and pulled up a beautiful sunfish.

 “Ooooh, that’s a nice one!” I said.

Thelma took the fish off the hook and placed it in the pail. “Ok. If you want to throw your line out,” Thelma said to me. “Your finger honey. Here.” Thelma reached for the rod. I handed it over. “Watch me. And sometimes you have to turn the bail so it’s complementary to what you want to do.”

“Ok. Yep.”

“Open your bail.”

“Ok.”

“You’re ready.” She handed it back to me. I cast the line, enjoying the sound of it sailing through the air and the hook hitting the water with a plop. “Perfect! There! Now remember, just don’t crank it anymore.”

“Ok.”

 Thelma gave further instruction to me about how to hold the rod before she turned back to Mom who was threading a worm on her hook. “There, see that, that’s about your presentation, little bit at the end.”

“Mmmhmm. Yep, wiggling around there.” Mom completed threading the worm on the hook.

“Finger,” instructed Thelma.

“Finger here,” repeated Mom. 

“Bail.” Following Thelma’s instructions Mom cast her line with relative ease despite this being her first time fishing.

“Ah, look! Right there, snake!” Mom said excitedly, reverently.

“Snake?” I asked, totally surprised by the sighting. Then I saw it too, “Oooh, beautiful!” I leaned over to get a better look, filled with awe as the snake swam past where we sat. I wish I could have taken a picture and been able to identify it.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” asked Thelma. I set my rod down and stood up; walked to the edge of the wooden platform we sat on, and peered into the water, watching the snake until it disappeared from view. How incredible!

“Yeah.” I answered, awe evident in my voice.

I had returned to my spot and resumed fishing a moment later. “Bethany, crank up a little of your line. Do you feel weight on it?”

“Mmm, not a lot.” Honestly I was having trouble figuring out what was a fish nibble on the worm and the pull of the current.

“Ok, then I’d bring it in.”

“Ok.” I reeled the line in. “Yep, something got my worm.”

“Yep,” Thelma chuckled a little. I threaded another worm onto the hook, which was still a slow process for me. While I was busy threading my hook, Thelma turned to Mom, “He’s eating off your worm.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah. I’d pull it up if I were you.” As Mom was reeling in her line it snagged another line someone else had left behind, untangling the lines occupied several minutes. I had finished threading the worm and was ready to cast out. Thelma returned her attention to me. I cast the line more smoothly than I had the last couple of times. “Now, you’re going to catch a fish. You’re fine. You’re all set to go. Leave it there.”

“Ok.”

Mom, still working on untangling her line, commented, “Goodness, somebody lost a good length of line here.”

“There see, Bethany?” Thelma said.“You’ve got a bite.”

“Oh.”

“See him going with it?”

“Yeah.”

“Hook him, give it…did you get him?”

“I don’t think so.”

 “Let me school you further. When a fish bites and he pulls it under, you’re exerting pressure with your crank but you’re also at the same time, like that see.”

“Ok.” I reeled in the line.

Mom added, “It sets the hook in their mouth.”

“Well you had a good bite,” laughed Thelma.

“Took the worm!”

“Nice! Crank your bail. Yep. Just, perfect spot,” Thelma said approvingly of Mom’s cast after she finally freed her line. I reached into the container, brushing aside some of the dirt to find a worm. I pulled one up.

 Thelma said to Mom, “You’ve got…” she didn’t have a chance to finish before Mom had already hooked the fish and was reeling it in. Mom had quickly gotten the hang of it and was fishing like a natural. Thelma laughed delighted Mom had hooked her first fish.

“Here we go,” I finished threading the worm and cast the line.

“Good job.” Thelma approved of my cast then turned back to Mom as she pulled the fish out of the water.

 “Whoa!” I was awed by the fish.

 “Hey! Hey, Mom!” Thelma exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s a beauty!” I added.

Thelma laughed as Mom continued to reel in the fish. Then she instructed, “Bring him over here, Honey, so you don’t lose him.”

I marveled, thrilled for Mom. I took a picture to capture the moment.

“Very nice!” said Thelma.

“Ok, yes!” Mom’s voice was filled with the thrill and excitement of catching her first fish.

“You know what, Honey, go down to Bo and ask him if he has a number four hook,” Thelma instructed me.

“A number four hook?”

“Yeah, that’s what your Mom has.”

“Ok.” I had already reeled in my line to take pictures of Mom and her first fish, so I just laid aside my pole on the bench, and walked over to Bo.

“May need a pair of pliers to get this one out, he’s really hooked,” said Mom.

“Yeah, I’ll show you now. Under the gills here, like.” Thelma then showed Mom how to take the fish off the hook.

“Like that.”

“Yeah. They have stiff mouths. Beautiful fish.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Beautiful. He’ll taste good.” Thelma slipped the fish into the pail with the other two.

“Mmhmm.”

“Perfect. Try the same place again.”

“Ok.”

“I’m going to put a different hook on for her, so she can catch more.” I returned with a number four hook from Bo. He had to rummage through his fishing gear to find the packet of hooks and asked how we were doing. I told him Thelma and Mom and I each caught one now. “We’re going to get you fixed up, Bethany, with a number four.  This is a six.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“When you replace a hook, always cut off about four inches of your line. So you have nice strong line.” Thelma demonstrated while she instructed.

“Ok.”

“Ah, there are a lot of knots. Basically, for sunfish you thread it around four times, four to five times. For walleyes you do more.” While Thelma spoke, Mom reeled in her line. Thelma said to her, “you might want to put a new worm on.”

“Yep, that one got the worm,” replied Mom.

“Ok, four times. And then in through here. And then pull it like that. Just loop it over.”

“Ok.”

“Then you spit on it.” We all laughed. “To wet it. Don’t clip it too short.” She finished tying the line around the hook, “Now, you’ll be in business.”

“Ok! I’ve got to find a worm first.” I dug around in the dirt in the small container.

Thelma had turned back to Mom, who had already replaced the worm on her hook and cast her line. “Good job, good job. Yeah, leave it right there. Right there.”

After a few moments, “I think it’s eating the worm.” Mom reeled in her line, “Yep, got the worm again.” With a little less effort, I threaded a fresh worm onto my hook. “Bethany, can you hand me another worm?”

“Mmmhmm.” I found a worm for Mom and handed it to her.

“Remember, I cut off four inches of your line. So go to your tie, we’ll raise that about four inches. Because, one thing we’ve established is that we are fishing at the right depth.” I put my finger on the line to hold it, flipped the bail, and with a flick of my wrist, let go of the line, casting it out. The worm and hook hit the water and sank with a satisfying plop. “Now, catch a big one,” Thelma said.

“Ok.”

“Leave it right out there,” instructed Thelma. “This type of fishing we are doing here, is not, is just getting your worm out in a good place and waiting for them to bite.”

“Ok.”

“And there, you’re getting a bite. Crank up your excess. Now, now let him go, let him go.”

“Ok.” I caught the first fish so easily, so I was a bit frustrated with myself that I was now struggling to hook the fish correctly. And I was having a hard time feeling the difference between a bite and the pull of the water. I felt like I should have been more skilled at it.

“You have a bite, I think. And kind of jerk, Honey. Can you feel him?”

“I think I do feel something here.” I reeled in the line. “Nope, I had something.” I looked at the worm.

“Looks good [the worm]. Do you want to cast it out?”

“Sure.” 

“I’ll throw it out for you.” I handed the pole to Thelma. “I see you have excess line here. When you kind of have line on the bail like that…”

“Oh! Ok. Yes.”

“Just cast it out as far as you can, and you’re fine. Let it go. See, otherwise you’d be messing with a snag that is all cleared up now.”

“Ok.”

“Watch, Bethany, see the level I have my fishing rod?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And see, I’m kind of moving my reel just a little?”

“Yeah.”

“Because, I’m going to be ready. I know it looks easy just looking at it.” There was a tug on the line so Thelma reeled it in. “Feels like a fair fish too.” She pulled it out of the water. “Not bad!”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Mmmhmm,” agreed Mom.

“This is, umm, the first one we caught, this is within a year no more, and you’re Mom’s was a good year more than this fish. Ain’t that a beauty?”

“It’s a beautiful fish!” Added Mom.

“Good catch, good hook.”Thelma took the fish off the hook and placed it in the bucket with the others. I pulled out a worm to thread on the hook. With further instruction from Thelma, I cast my line. “Perfect,” she approved. “You’ve got a bite…he’s still there. He’s eating that big worm. Now!” I jerked the line trying to hook the fish. “Got him?”

“No, I don’t think I do,” I replied while reeling in my line. Mom was having better luck, at the same time she hooked a fish. “I missed mine. Mom has a nice fish though.”

“Nice fish. I think he swallowed it,”Thelma said. 

“Yeah, looks like he did,” replied Mom.

“I guess we’ll have to keep him. It’s really hard to go inside them and not injure them,” explained Thelma. “If you can’t feel where the hook is…Hold on to it, yeah. You don’t mind taking him home?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Otherwise the northerns feed most voraciously here.” Thelma put the fish in the bucket with the rest. “We’ve got quite a little mess of fish already.” She laughed.

“Yeah.” Mom and I replied.

“Mom needs a worm,” Thelma said.

“Alright, Honey, you’re all on your own. Good, good, try there, Bethany,” Thelma praised my cast. Then to Mom after she cast her line, “Wonderful, good job, good job.”

“I’ll get the hang of this yet,” laughed Mom. I think she already had.

“Basically, all you’re doing now, you’re in a good place, you’re just intent on keeping your line at the point if you get a bite that you’re ready to take action. You don’t want a lot of line floating downstream,” Thelma gently coached us. “You’re getting a bite,” Thelma said to me.

“Am I?”

“Mmhmm. That’s ok, let him…” Thelma gave me some further instruction.

“Ok, he got the worm,” Mom commented on a fish nibbling at her line. She put a new worm on her line and cast it out. Within moments of casting, she caught another fish. Thelma had me reel in my line again; I had lost the worm. 

“Oh, nice, Mom!” I congratulated. Thelma laughed in delight with Mom’s speedy catch.

I lost a fish. Mom cast her line again. Thelma continued to give me more instructions. I reeled in the line. Mom immediately caught another fish. Thelma decided to put a different hook on my line again, walking me through it again.

“You’re doing good,” Thelma praised Mom as she caught yet another fish.

“This one’s little though. Let’s see if I can get the hook out.” After Thelma had shown Mom a couple times how to take the fish off the hook Mom did it herself.

“If it’s just in his mouth, no problem,” encouraged Thelma.

“So just put him back in?”

“Yes.” Thelma gave the rod back to me. “Take them on, girl.”

“Yeah, Bethany, you need to catch up.”

“Ok.” I cast out the line.

“Great!” Thelma approved. “Flip your bail. And leave it right where you’re at and you’ll have a bite in a minute.” After a short pause, “Take up a little of your line, real gingerly.”

“Ok.”

“There, you got one, Bethany!” exclaimed Mom.

“Hooray!” Shouted Thelma

“Yeah!”

“Good job!” said Mom.

“Oh. Did he swallow it?”

“Swallowed it, huh?”

“Kind of looks like it. I don’t see it.” Thelma started working on taking my fish off the line. 

Bo came over, coming up behind us. “Hi, Bo! How many did you catch?” greeted Mom.

“I got five.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Thelma.

“Yeah, they’re about like this.” Bo held out his hands, indicating the fishes’ length with his index fingers about five or so inches apart. “I need a few worms, Thelma,” then looking into our pail, “You guys are doing better than I am.”

“Look at the beauty she caught,” Thelma said.

“Yeah, that’s a beauty there,” replied Bo.

“Yeah, that was the first fish I caught!” boasted Mom

“That’s a beauty,” Bo said again. “They’re hard to hook way out there.”

“Yeah,” agreed Thelma.

“They’re biting down there but they’re real small ones,” Bo added. “Larry likes to canoe down here.”

 I replied, “Yeah, I went canoeing with him down here.”

Thelma still worked at taking the fish off my line, “He’s going to be food for the northerns I’m afraid.”

“Yeah. Well, the northerns need food too.” I replied.

Finally Thelma was able to get the hook out, she tossed the fish back into the water, “Sorry,” she said to it, and then to us, “I know it will be recycled.” Bo grabbed some worms and walked off. “I’m a full fledged teacher today,” laughed Thelma.

“You are and you’re doing a good job! Look at how many fish we’ve caught.” Mom replied. I had already threaded a worm on my hook; at least I was improving at that. I cast my line.

“There, you’ve got a bite,” Thelma said to me. “Crank your line.” I managed to hook the fish correctly and reeled it in with Thelma applauding.

“Ooo, that’s a nice one!” Mom exclaimed. Mom hooked a fish almost simultaneously with me but hers was a very little one.

“Beautiful, nice catch.” Thelma said to me. She removed the fish from the hook and put it in the bucket. I cast off the line again.

“You’ve got a bite already. Crank up your excess. Remember, you’re going to jerk him or you’re not going to snag him.”

“I think he’s gone.”

“I think so. Don’t try to catch the fish with cranking it but with the tip of your rod [jerking the rod just so].”

“Ok.” I reeled in my line and replaced the worm.

“Turning fall, isn’t it?” Thelma asked, taking in the waning afternoon.

“Yeah.”

“I love that feel, in the air. I don’t love that another year has gone past,” commented Thelma. I was preparing to cast my line again, “Bethany, just take your time and don’t feel uncomfortable. Because you’re just learning.” I cast out my line. “Nice! Leave it right there. Just flip your bail, Honey.” And so fishing and conversation carried on much the same way for another hour and a half or perhaps a little longer.

I continued to make some good casts and some poor casts. I thought since I had been fishing as a child this would be easier for me. Maybe fishing is nothing like riding a bike. I have read many stories about people’s love for fishing, writers always make it seem like it is romantic, could spend hours and hours fishing even when it takes hours and hours for a single bite – I’m not sure I have the makings of a true fisherwoman. Even with the fish biting with almost nearly every cast, more than an hour at it and I’m ready to be done. However, I could still sit there for many more hours along the water’s edge; listening and watching. Mom, I think, could be a true fisherwoman.

We wrapped up fishing while the sun was setting, around 6:54 pm. By the time we got back to Thelma’s it was already dark.

Mom said, “I love fishing. Something about casting out and reeling in, casting out and reeling in.” Thelma taught us how to clean the fish before we left for home with plenty to eat.