JOURNAL NOTE (August 24th): The bay boat is tied up at the marina. I've just dropped off two guys who were out fishing with me all day and I'm waiting for two other guests to come out for the evening fish. Puget Sound has been good to us for a couple weeks now with mostly sunny weather and steady fishing for Pink Salmon. But this evening, clouds have moved in from the south and the wind has picked up. The cool breeze feels good on my sunburn.
This is my ninth trip out in nine days and I'm looking forward to taking the day off tomorrow. This much time on the water has started to have a cumulative affect on my level of energy. By the time I'm done chasing these fish I know I will be exhausted and, as a middle-aged guy, this concerns me. Now that my hair is gray I worry a lot about looking like a wuss. My youngest son tells me not to worry so much. "Just embrace it, Dad." He says.
In my youth, I would hike up a mountain and fish fourteen hours on a raging stream until darkness drove me home. Now I ride most of the day in the comfort of a boat and begin thinking about a nap half-way through.
My son was fly fishing for Albacore thirty-five miles off the coast of Oregon a week ago. Next to him was an older gentleman in a wheelchair, hooking more fish than anyone else on the boat. The next time I want to slack off and blame it on my age, I'll have to think of that guy and suck it up a little...
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