Not gonna bore you with the usual list of all the "fishing since I was a fetus" stories, my pedigrees (I have none) or how bad ass my new (not new) boat is. Just gonna put a thought of mine down about the amazing successes and countless failures fishing brings us all.
The picture of me in the background is one of those. For the most part these memories consist of not just my moments, but those shared with my friends both new and old. It's the excitement that keeps us up all night contemplating what the day to come has in store. An obscenely early alarm. That life giving cup of coffee. Barren streets where the blinking yellow lights outnumber those damnable red ones. The beginning of almost every day before the outboard jolts to life, as much as these four strokes can muster. Idling out of the marina at dawn, full of anticipation and optimism in the coming light
. It's all part of a process that never gets old. I rather be doing this than anything else on the planet. Anyone that says otherwise need not apply. It's what we do and why we do it.
The definition of insanity and we can't get enough of it.