This past year has been my most successful ever in terms of fish species and numbers of fish caught. I achieved a saltwater grand slam south of the border (permit, tarpon, and bonefish all in one day), landed several sea-bright winter coastal steelhead, and had my best fall California steelhead season. But I keep fighting the nagging thought, “Was this my swan song?” I’m in my 70s. George Carlin said that when you hit 70, “After that it’s a day-by-day thing.” Certainly that’s how I feel now about fishing. This adds a bittersweet joy to each trip I take.
I believe that going places and collecting memories and experiences is more important than collecting things. So I’ve been working on my bucket list of fishing species and locations. Henry David Thoreau said that “many people go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not the fish that they are after.” I believe his intent was to focus us on the journey, not the destination. While I generally share his philosophy, for me, catching is an important part of the experience and a validation of competence. And pursuing different species adds value. If you are a guide, try repeating Thoreau’s philosophy to a client after a trip with disappointing fish production.
At my age, my philosophy has become, “If not now, when?” Am I hoping to outrun the inevitable point when I can no longer fish where I would like? No doubt. So it becomes a question of how much I can cram in before this happens. This adds a certain amount of frenetic activity to my life, but I can’t help it. Does anyone have a satisfying alternative? One thing is for sure at this point — time is not on my side.
This past year I found myself lingering and reflecting on each steelhead run I was leaving as my fall season was coming to a close. Would this be my last time fishing there? I’ve certainly taken more spills on the trails lately, with a torn tendon leaving a divot in my quad muscle. No matter, since I won’t be in any chorus lines at this point anyhow. And who wants to be the prettiest corpse in the cemetery — testimony to a life unspent?
But what might happen next? I devote a good amount of time to the gym, working on my balance, keeping my muscle mass from totally disappearing and my stamina up. When fishing, my wading staff is always at my side and in use. No fold-out versions for me.
I’ve taken full advantage of equipment advancements. I’ve gone to two-handed rods for steelhead to take the pressure off my wrists, arms, and shoulders. Having had carpal tunnel surgery on both wrists, I use supports to keep them from bending. My arsenal of aids also includes tennis-elbow straps on both arms. One is up high on my bicep to relieve some of the pressure on my left shoulder, injured in a fall several years ago. I’m right-handed, and the other is to protect against tendon inflammation on that elbow.
I have noticed that as I plan for a fishing trip, I now go through a series of mental stages, including some that are negative that I am struggling with, but currently able to overcome. The first is positive, with me envisioning fishing at my destination and the excitement this engenders. But as it gets close to the actual trip, I begin to focus on the potential negatives that might arise. Will I fall and injure myself going down a hillside? Will I get a decent campsite? Will I have annoying neighbors? Then I remember the stresses of getting up early, especially when steelhead fishing, where the first ones through a run are usually the most successful. And as I drive up to a location, will I see vehicles that mean others have beaten me there?
I don’t remember having these thoughts 10 years ago. If I did, I was able to get past them quickly. Is this how my trips will cease? When the negative thoughts dominate? I find that if I plan a trip with other anglers, it’s difficult to stay home. If you can afford it, being guided helps solve some of these potential problems. With a boat, guides can get you access to more fishing runs than you could reach on your own. They are there if you get into difficult spots wading or become injured. They will navigate through and beyond the angler crowding that can exist. And the knowledge they impart can speed up the learning process.
One positive thing about getting older is that I find I need less sleep. Let the 30-year-olds dream on. I’ll beat them to the choice runs. And being retired, I have more time available, if not always the money, to do what I want. With years of experience, I also have perfected some casting techniques and acquired knowledge about entomology, hydrology, and the natural world. This has enriched my fishing experience.
Can I offer some advice to you younger anglers? If you want to take a special trip, or to improve your techniques, or if you long for a special piece of equipment, act on your desires sooner, rather than later. Do not take your health for granted. Do it while you still can. As my father used to say, “There’s no time like the present.” That advice has taken on special meaning. I’ve learned I can’t have fun if I am focusing on tomorrow. You can experience life only in the present moment. I wish I had acted on his advice earlier. But I’m still out there on the water.
