Welcome to the Friends Outdoor Journal
A Blog About Hunting, Fishing, Family, and Friends
I had intended on christening this blog with a great article from the Smallmouth Slam Tournament hosted last week by the…
NCKFA – http://www.nckfa.com/
It was a great tournament and I will post about it soon.
However, I couldn’t resist opening the page with this story.
In 1975, on my fifth birthday, my grandfather thrust upon me the incredible anticipation and responsibility of a brand new Zebco 202 Combo. I imagine quite a few fishermen were introduced to the sport via a Zebco. It was fiberglass with plain metal guides and the most reliable reel ever to be made. A crank, a button, and a drag. When one casts, one lets the button go when the tip of the rod is pointing at the moon…That’s it! You’re done! The cricket, split-shot, and bobber would go helicoptering out about 40 feet. If you wanted to catch a fish you had to anticipate it and set the hook two days early because the rod was so flexible.
I say responsibility because this was the most important gift I had ever received. I would not learn this for 36 years, but I know why now. I say anticipation because my birthday was in February and I wasn’t promised a fishing trip, “till it warms up.” The combo did however come with a fishing dummy or casting weight. I am glad it was white. I quickly sent that dummy flying over the neighbor’s fence, and when it got stuck I yanked with all my might to get it unstuck. Those of you who have ever set a hook on a giant fish who just missed taking your top water lure know what happens next. Whatever is on the end of your line comes flying back at you at twice the speed of sound, and if hooks are on it, buddy, WATCH OUT!
I spent the next 5 years beating the Zebco to death; throwing it across rivers and creeks to get to the other side, reeling line and grass all the way into the real on more than one occasion, and leaning it up on electric fences to step over and then getting zapped as I tried to pick it up again. It caught some good size fish, but as any fisherman will tell you, you need more gear to catch bigger fish, so the inevitable happened; the Zebco was forgotten for bigger, newer equipment.
Last year I was decluttering my office, (that’s code for garage) and I found the old rod. Old, dusty, unraveling wind on the guides, so flexible you could use it to snake your sink; ready for retirement. I mentioned to my co-author that I was going to throw it away…it wasn’t any good to me, and it was just taking up space. He said I should keep it…”put it on the wall”, he said. He thinks he’s funny…he knows my wife, and he knows there is no way in hell any inch of my wall will be host to a fishing rod for nostalgia sake. I put the rod aside and forgot about it.
In December I was walking through the fishing section at Wal-Mart, and there was a Zebco 202 reel. Even in the plastic packaging it looked comfortable, like the leather on a new, slightly worn baseball. The old one I had had finally given up so I bought the new one, took it home and didn’t think anything else about it.
Well last Friday I was going fishing and I wanted to take my daughters (2 and 5). The five year old broke her arm this summer and would have trouble retrieving my big spinning outfits. They have far outgrown their NEMO rod so I grabbed the Zebco. When we got to the lake I set out some chairs and a blanket and started to set up the gear. I am sure most of you know when you take little girls fishing; itchy grass and bugs will cut your trip short. I started setting up the Zebco just like I fished it; a small gold worm hook, split shot, and a red and white bobber. I then proceeded to catch a grasshopper and put it on the hook. I threw it out and stuck it in my 5 yr olds hand. I had turned toward the truck and was getting ready to tie on. I was looking forward to the five year old learning the value of patience, quiet and focus when I heard, “uh, Daddy? I think there is something on the rod!” “Pull it baby, pull it! I yelled. She did, and proceeded to pull in a good two pounder all by herself. While I think the value of patience, quiet, and focus is forever lost on her, the fact that she caught her first, “all by myself” fish on the rod that my grandfather gave me when I was five wasn’t lost on any of us.
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| My first "all by myself fish" |
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| It just keeps getting better |
Poppy introduced me to the first love of my life so that I could get to know all the other loves of my life. I met my wife one night after a very long guide trip and she enjoys fishing with our two girls. Both of the girls love nothing more than riding in the back of the kayak catching flounder or Spanish on the coast, or playing tug of war with largemouth on a summer day. Who knows, maybe this story will bring that rod one step closer to getting up on the wall, or better yet in a granddaughter’s hands one day.
