Vacation reignites an old passion
People I meet think I have the perfect job. After all, I get to hunt and fish for a living, right? Wrong.
There certainly was a time when I spent several workdays a month afield, but that ended when I left Louisiana Sportsman for the freelance world — and quickly learned I could fish or make money, but not both. Paying bills won out.
My return to Louisiana Sportsman brought dreams of the old days, but the world had changed and the Internet sucked up most of my time. And it didn’t get any better when I accepted the editor’s position, which consists largely of being chained to a computer.
And, honestly, I was spoiled by years of not having to fish on the weekends when the waters became more crowded.
The kicker is that my boss has nagged me to get out of the office. And former editor Todd Masson, with whom I maintain a close friendship, has advised me to just make it happen.
“When you start doing something, you’ll want to do it more,” he said.
But it seemed there was always work I could do.
As it turns out, however, Todd was right.
I learned this lesson during an October vacation, when I was left on my own because my wife refused to take off.
Two fishing invitations quickly surfaced. The first was for a trip to Henderson with buddy Austin Abadie, and the second came from Todd who wanted to float the Tangipahoa River.
Austin smirked when I threw my camera box in his boat, pointing out that it was supposed to be just a fun trip. I lasted most of the day, but finally had to take a few photos.
That evening, I was already thinking about the float trip, and when I met Todd, the camera wasn’t even in my truck. I spent the entire day drifting down the river and catching bass — actually focused on fishing. I can’t remember the last time that happened.
I drove home planning another trip when my now-grown son Garrett came home for a few days. I forgot my camera in the truck when we launched, and when Garrett caught his first crankbait fish ever, I told him I needed go back to grab it.
“Can’t we just fish, Dad?” he asked.
I grinned, pulled out my iPhone and settled for a snapshot. And we quickly went back to fishing.
As Todd predicted, I learned I miss fishing because I fished. I have since made an additional fun trip to Henderson, as well as a work trip to the Atchafalaya Basin — five fishing excursions in a two-week period, more than I fished in all of 2014.
I’m even good with sharing the waters with weekend warriors, if that’s my only choice.
Now if I can just keep that outboard jalopy running ….
