rb608
October 20th, 2003, 04:33 PM
Three days on the Salmon River is my annual trip with my fishing buddy and
friend, Craig; and this year marked a rite of passage for my son, who joined
me on the trip for the first time. For the months leading up to the trip,
I've been anguishing over how he would enjoy giving up the non-stop action
of video games for two days of patiently standing in cold water. Up until
now, he hasn't shown any interest at all in the sport. "Hey, I'm goin'
fishing, wanna go along?" was always met with, "Nah." The 4 wt. I'd built
for him years ago had gone largely untouched.
So I'm not pushing him into it. If he wants to go, great; if not, well, I
guess that's okay too. All of the whys, hows, and what ifs kept running
through my head as I contemplated his apparent desire to go along this time.
Why does he even want to go? How will he handle the conditions, the
exertion, the slow periods? What if he gets bored after an hour? I
realize now that I had most of the answers all along.
Because this was his first "guy trip", I resolved to treat him just like one
of the guys. Not as my son, not as a little kid, just another person along
for the trip. Though not consciously, I resolved to treat him with
respect. Within limits of safety and responsibility, he could do whatever
he wanted. Introductions to others were always on a first name basis; I
didn't make him call anybody "Mr." I didn't watch my language. I didn't
ask him about his schoolwork. I didn't make him eat vegetables. On the
river, despite some tough and dangerous conditions, I let him be as
self-reliant as possible.
At the end of two days of fishing, some remarkable things were evident. He
was having a great time. No doubt part of it was just being away from the
apron strings; but most amazingly, he was enjoying the fishing. He was
managing good casts and drifts; and he was hooking into some fish. Sure,
there's some work to do on the mechanics, but who cares. He was enjoying
the casting and the wading and the being outdoors and the camaraderie.
I realize this all may sound like a self-nomination for a dad-of-the-year
award, but it's more of a celebration of a rite of passage for myself. It
was dealing with the reality that my baby isn't a baby anymore. I did a
lot of things right this time, and I'm glad; but I know it's only the
beginning of a long process of knowing when to be there & when to back off
through some tough years ahead. As I watched him sleep in the car on the
long ride home, I was proud of him as my son and very pleased to have him as
my friend.
Joe F.
friend, Craig; and this year marked a rite of passage for my son, who joined
me on the trip for the first time. For the months leading up to the trip,
I've been anguishing over how he would enjoy giving up the non-stop action
of video games for two days of patiently standing in cold water. Up until
now, he hasn't shown any interest at all in the sport. "Hey, I'm goin'
fishing, wanna go along?" was always met with, "Nah." The 4 wt. I'd built
for him years ago had gone largely untouched.
So I'm not pushing him into it. If he wants to go, great; if not, well, I
guess that's okay too. All of the whys, hows, and what ifs kept running
through my head as I contemplated his apparent desire to go along this time.
Why does he even want to go? How will he handle the conditions, the
exertion, the slow periods? What if he gets bored after an hour? I
realize now that I had most of the answers all along.
Because this was his first "guy trip", I resolved to treat him just like one
of the guys. Not as my son, not as a little kid, just another person along
for the trip. Though not consciously, I resolved to treat him with
respect. Within limits of safety and responsibility, he could do whatever
he wanted. Introductions to others were always on a first name basis; I
didn't make him call anybody "Mr." I didn't watch my language. I didn't
ask him about his schoolwork. I didn't make him eat vegetables. On the
river, despite some tough and dangerous conditions, I let him be as
self-reliant as possible.
At the end of two days of fishing, some remarkable things were evident. He
was having a great time. No doubt part of it was just being away from the
apron strings; but most amazingly, he was enjoying the fishing. He was
managing good casts and drifts; and he was hooking into some fish. Sure,
there's some work to do on the mechanics, but who cares. He was enjoying
the casting and the wading and the being outdoors and the camaraderie.
I realize this all may sound like a self-nomination for a dad-of-the-year
award, but it's more of a celebration of a rite of passage for myself. It
was dealing with the reality that my baby isn't a baby anymore. I did a
lot of things right this time, and I'm glad; but I know it's only the
beginning of a long process of knowing when to be there & when to back off
through some tough years ahead. As I watched him sleep in the car on the
long ride home, I was proud of him as my son and very pleased to have him as
my friend.
Joe F.