“Fishing is much more than fish. It is the great occasion when we may return to the fine simplicity of our forefathers” – Herbert Hoover
More and more often, with the advent of technology in school, work, and now constantly infiltrating our free time and personal space, we yearn for an escape. And, unfortunately for me, when inundated with a barrage of technology, I tend to lose my inspiration and become stale. When this happens, it’s time to reset to baseline by reconnecting with nature. As soon as a reconnect happens, a surge of endorphins floods my psyche, neurons make connections, and countless ideas come into my mind that I quickly record into my journal. When fresh inspiration occurs anew with the world around me, I feel alive; inspiration fuels our passions and gives us hope. Never let yourself become uninspired.
Feeling stale a few weeks ago, but knowing the perfect antidote to what ailed me, I decided to plan a fishing trip. I packed my gear and headed south for Cape Cod to meet my friend Matt. It was time to try our luck for trout at a few of the local kettle ponds.
We arrived at the first pond around 7am, surveyed the area, and put on much needed gloves, hats, outdoor buffs, and jackets. There was a chill in the air, and with the wind coming off the pond, we were in for a challenge. After about a half an hour trying to find cover against the brush, we could no longer cast as fierce gusts were blowing line, hook, and bait back to us at shore. Heading off, we decided to find a more clandestine spot. Quietly contemplating in the moment, Matt smiled, and told me to follow him; presumably having thought of a perfect spot for a windy day.
About 15 minutes of driving along the narrow and quaint streets of mid-Cape, we arrived at a kettle pond that looked small, but promising. The sun had just passed through some cloud cover, its rays glistening on the crystal clear water. Our gear on our backs, poles in hand with XtraTufs on, we headed out. Finding a ridge with a lower hill that deviated from the path we were on and down to the water was perfection itself. Moving some brush we found our spot, baited up, and started casting.
Matt, a Cape Cod native, landed a beautiful Rainbow Trout after a few casts. The fish is truly majestic; an upper blue-green-yellowish body with a silver belly, and a pink-red stripe running along the side of the fish from the gills down to the tail. The fish is so delicate, that once you release it after handling it, you have to create a back-and-forth motion in the water for the fish, so air flows back into its gills and it becomes lucid and starts swimming again.
Matt has verified that the fish are biting, and I become incredibly excited. Trout fishing is a lot of casting and patiently waiting. But I realized if you are patient, and a little lucky, you will be handsomely rewarded. Moreover, as I gaze into the water, I remind myself that it is not even as though you are waiting; it is part of a beautiful, peaceful ancestral process. The stillness of the current moment was incredibly meditative. Another win, is that it was turning out to be a beautiful day with birds chirping, and a crisp breeze; as the sun got higher, the wind decreased and my face became warmer. Time went on, with no bites; it didn’t matter, I simply enjoyed being outside and taking in such a gorgeous day. After an hour, Matt pulled in two more rainbows. I am utterly amazed and mesmerized by the beauty of this mighty, pristine fish; as he releases them back in and shakes and airs out his hands from the cold water, Matt points out a few painted turtles that have also decided to join in on the gorgeous day, catching some rays on a log nearby. We enjoy our spot for a dozen more casts, before packing up and moving farther along the trail to test our luck elsewhere.
We head back up the hill to the ridge, and decide to check out one last spot around the middle of the pond, before ending our trip. Steeper than the last hill, with a lot of reeds and logs in the water, it looks promising and could potentially harbor significant aquatic life. I re-bait my hook with a shiner, walk out into the pond, and cast over to the left hugging the shore near a few fallen trees that were peeking above the water. I wait patiently, and continue to watch my line for any movement. Time passes, and I look around the pond until I feel a gentle tug and see my line moving; simultaneously, I hear Matt yell from a few yards away to let the trout take the bait and then set the hook; “Let him take it; let the fish take it!” I wait about 30 seconds, and then start reeling in slowly – I feel pressure on the line and a slight pull at the top; my presumption based on the direction of the line is that the fish is heading back towards the logs where I had originally casted. I keep reeling but realize I can reel no more, hearing the awful sound of the caught drag that fisherman dread, and realize I am stuck on bottom. Matt and I both confused, realize that our excitement has gotten the best of us, and perhaps the wind moved the line. I relay to Matt that I agree that that’s possible, but mention to him that I did feel a pull. Luckily Matt had waders, so he walked into about 3 feet of water to retrieve my line without losing the bait. He fiddled with it, freed the line, and walked my pole back to me when he felt a generous pull – the trout was still on the line but was hiding under the log and the hook got stuck in the process! Matt hands me back the rod and I start reeling in slowly, waiting to see the beautiful pink colors of a Rainbow Trout. As it gets closer, we are both intrigued to see that it is not a rainbow, but a native Brook Trout. What came into view as it slithered and fought in the shallow water was a beautiful, delicate fish; dark green, brown, and yellow with lines and polka dots. Elated that I finally caught a fish, and talking about how we almost lost it, we decide to stay at this spot for another half an hour. We have some friendly banter, and a discussion ensues about the patience fishing rewards. We both agree and are glad we were able to step away from the business of our lives to enjoy a few hours of quiet solitude. We enjoy a few laughs, pack up, and hike back to our cars and part ways. The entire ride home I recall about how the fish tricked us and almost got away; and the crystal clear water and the mesmerizing colors of the fish.
Friends and colleagues, remember to get out at some point today; whether it be a walk around your neighborhood, a drive to the beach, stroll along a river, hike in the woods, going fishing – it doesn’t matter where or what you do: just get outside. Do yourself a favor and feel the visceral connection between you and nature. You’ll feel inspired, alive, and anew – I promise, you’ll thank me later.
