My friend Jacob Barrett recently showed up at my house before daylight. In the middle of December, with season open, the normal guess was that we were aspiring duck hunters.
But this has proven a somewhat strange year weatherwise, temperatures on this day to reach the mid60s after a cold morning. The weather simply wasn't conducive to this type of hunting. So rather than go through the motions of pitching decoys and coaxing a few greenheads within shooting distance, we loaded the boat with tackle and went fishing.
The boat coasted to a stop within casting distance of consistently productive waters. Tying on our lures, we cast into the dense fog, slowly retrieving our presentation back to the boat.
Within a couple cranks of the reel handle, I set the hook and the fight was on. Within a couple of casts, I caught another one. And before long, my friend was engulfed in his first battle of the day.
Things were looking pretty promising. Not an hour had transpired and we already had six keepers in the boat. More and more, postponing our duck hunt appeared the proper decision.
But as the sun barely crept into the sky, an east wind intensified and it was like someone flipped a switch. The biting period immediately ceased, and the action remained practically non-existent for the rest of the morning.
Trying a couple of other locations I quickly grew disgruntled. It was one of the few times we had enjoyed an opportunity to get together during the past year, and I hoped for a successful outing.
Noticing a change in my disposition, Jacob said, "I really don't care if the fish are biting or not." Gazing at his surroundings, he said, "I'm having a good time." Whereupon, I recalled several memorable outings together.
There was the morning when the ducks were on the prowl over Lake Ouachita and we bagged our limits. And the day when the bass went into a feeding frenzy, attacking our rogues with vigor.
On the other hand, I recalled motoring across the lake in darkness in high winds. And the morning we stood waist deep in water as a freezing rain drizzled.
And how could I forget Jacob's misfortune of a snake falling into the canoe while going under an overhanging limb. Although non-venomous, the serpent certainly lent to an uneasy feeling upon sharing a seat with my friend.
I then remembered our most recent fishing trip on DeGray Lake. Despite reports of breaking hybrids we got through the evening without hooking a single fish.
But looking back, I realized that the not-so-successful days resulted in as many good memories as the days when the game we pursued came easy. A enjoyable excursion obviously went much deeper than bagging game.
Success in the truest sense was more about savoring the wonderful outdoors while fellowshipping with a friend. Hence, our most recent outing was not remotely as bad as I had perceived. In fact, I was confident that we would someday relive this morning and have no problems mustering up a smile.
Sports on 12/21/2014