The spring fishing trip

[LoboGunLeather]

The spring fishing trip has been a wonderful experience for several years. My grown sons and I pick a place to go, reserve a house or cabin (VRBO, AirBnB, rented houseboat), spend a few days together fishing, eating, enjoying an adult beverage or two. Great times together. Stress level ZERO, make it work and enjoy each day.

Alas, the wives, the grandchildren, and the great-grandkids have decided that they should be included. Instead of a rustic cabin or a houseboat on a remote lake we now require sleeping facilities and bathrooms for 15 or so people. Accommodations that would be completely acceptable for 3 middle-aged men simply don't cut the mustard for the ladies. Appropriate activities for children of all ages must be taken into consideration.

I live in Colorado. My sons live in Tennessee and Florida. Grandchildren and great-grandkids in a dozen other places.

I'm retired. Both sons own businesses and have employees. Most of the grandchildren are employed, in military service, or similarly saddled with the usual obligations of life.

The planning phases have evolved from "Hey guys, what do you think about this or that............." into months of prior planning and coordination. Everyone seems to have veto authority. Every decision involves weeks of communications and debate.

4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms have somehow become two rental houses. Everyone seems to have a list of activities and attractions that must be included in the plans.

My dear lovely wife has expanded on our personal travel plans, expanding the 800 mile road trip to include several days of stopping in here and there to visit so and so, or having a look at this or that area. All the stuff she plans on carrying along to share with the daughters-in-law and grandkids makes me wonder where I might be able to stash a fishing rod or two.

Roadside motels and diners won't make the grade at all. Suck it up, pull out the credit card, make it happen to Mama's satisfaction.

Now pondering and scheming on a new idea, a fall fishing expedition for just the guys. Remote location, basic lodging, no feminine influences to cater to. Scratch what itches. Sleep when you feel like it. Catch it, kill it, cook it, eat it, have another beer, stop worrying about the little stuff.

The little stuff is the expensive gut-wrenching stuff.

We leave next week. Hopefully, some level of peace and sanity will prevail. Maybe.

 

[Onomea]

Good luck!

(I think the establishment of a fishing trip for just the guys, your grown sons and you, only, is a good idea. Announce it well in advance, and make your sons swear to one another and to you to keep it just for the original group. As you write, this family vacation, everyone come, activities for all, is a very different animal. I hope everyone enjoys it, including you, but keep that special time for just your sons and you, too.)

 

[SS336]

Both trips will be fun. But the guys only trip would be the best.
The memories made will last a lifetime. Hope you can pull it off, I'll keep my fingers crossed.

 

[Eagle 477]

What was that about ZERO STRESS?
Rob

 

[Nevada Ed]

One long word......................

Houseboat !!

If you can get it on the right days, it can be an easy way to get together and have lots of fun.

 

[dave1918a2]

Just take plenty of Excedrin and Mylanta for headache and upset stomach. Probably take whisky instead of beeer. Lot's of luck with Your stress factor.

 

[KalamazooKid]

We're up at Trout Camp as I type this. 5 of us this year - fishing the small northern Michigan trout streams for brown trout, eating like kings, large evening campfires with some beers. It simply doesn't get any better!

Andrew (a newb) is holding the first one of his life which I'll cook up with a few others this afternoon for an appetizer.

 

[Golddollar]

One of the biggest joys in our extended family was the fishing trips to Canada that we took over many years. My paternal granddad came up with it about 1953, starting with him and my dad's three brothers. It spread down and across the family, as my cousins grew up and started coming (both male and female), and my aunts started coming. When my oldest nephew came for the first time, he marked the 4th generation of the family coming on the fishing trips.

Some of what went on during the trips became legendary. Most noteworthy were my attempts at speaking French in Quebec province. Maybe my attempts were a little mangled but were appreciated by the local people.

But time has marched on. Some of those who took part have passed on, a bunch of us are now getting up in years, and the next generation seems to be spread out and interested in other things. But the memories live on, helped by a full color photo that was blown up to make a 2' x 3' placard. It's a picture of my dad, his brothers and me in the fishing camp cabin outside of Laneil, Quebec. It's priceless to me now.

 

[LoboGunLeather]

Update May 29, 2022.

Arrived back home today. Weather was generally miserable, rainy and cold, only 2 days out of 9 offered decent fishing opportunities.

Suffice it to say that future fishing trips will be restricted to the guys of middle age and older. No need to go into endless detail about spoiled rotten young children or their fawning and enabling mothers and grandmothers (still working on my patience and understanding, getting much better at keeping my mouth shut).

A few bright spots to report:

1. Bull Shoals Lake is a fisherman's dream environment with crystal clear water, hundreds of miles of shore lines, secluded coves, and crazy populations of crappie, bass, walleye, and other lovely catches.

2. White River, below Bull Shoals Dam, is another dream destination with wonderful fishing for trout (browns, cutthroats, goldens, rainbows).

3. Bull Shoals, Arkansas has a very active VFW Post. Great company and very welcoming for visiting veterans. A great place to escape a houseful of kids, grandkids, great-grandkids on a nasty ugly rainy day. Sure, it's better to be fishing when the weather allows, but a reasonable alternative helps! Hard to miss, a Vietnam-era Huey Cobra AH-1 attack helicopter mounted over the building by the entrance from the highway.

4. My lifetime personal best brown trout! 23 inches in length, body thicker than my arm, probably 4.5 - 5 lbs live weight. Naturally, Arkansas laws require a minimum length of 24 inches for a "keeper" so that one had to go back in the river. (Here in Colorado a brown trout over 18" is a monster catch, so that was not easy to do).

Photos to follow when Son #1 gets settled back at his home and sends them along. Four generations (self, son, grandson, great-grandson) in one boat and old Grampa Lobo holding the brown trout of a lifetime.

 

[zeke]

While large family get togethers can be "entertaining", have reduced my family visits to individuals or one family. The last group gathering was all "busy" time, and prefer actually having a little time to talk/interact with people.

 

[Jessie]

I'm missing our annual float trips in Alaska. For a dozen years or so a core group of 5 friends got together and rented catarafts and had a Grumman Goose fly us to the headwaters of different rivers where we would unload and spend a week or so drifting down the rivers dodging brown bears and moose while catching amazing amounts of Silvers, Rainbows, Graylings and Lake Trout.
We'd mix up the occupants between the two rafts every day to keep it interesting. Always had to dig up a sixth person so we had 3 per raft. We rarely had the same sixth person. Probably because most of us were vets and kind of ran the trips like a military mission with beer.
Two have passed on from the original group and a third has had some heart issues lately. We're all getting too old for what sometimes we're strenuous trips, dragging laden rafts when the river was low and setting up- breaking camp everyday.
They were some of the very best vacations of my life and I'm missing them.
We tried a houseboat trip to ease some of the work on Rainy Lake on the Canadian-US border in Minnesota. which was easier and fun but not the same.
May do it again with those that are left just to get together since we're spread all over the country.
Great memories that last forever!
Awww, came out sideways again!
The five on the right is the core group. The one on left was named " Gadabout Gaddis " during the trip. It was a bit much for him

 

[scout II]

A few friends and I started a guys only Spring opening weekend fishing trip many years ago. We started with 3 of us the first couple of years, then a pretty steady 5 of us for a few years more. We camped in tents in the snow, rain, or sunshine. After about ten years in, we had about 10 guys going every year. We ate great food and drank like drunken sailors, and fished and shot guns everyday we were there. The first dozen years we only did long weekends, from early Friday until late Sunday. As we got older and made a little more money we decided to start staying in a cabin. What a treat that was to stay dry and warm the whole trip. We also started to stay from a Monday to Sunday. This past April was my 35th year in a row, not counting the one year they closed everything down because of Covid. Now some of us are starting to retire and thinking we might extend our stay another three days or so next year.

 

[geddylee10002000]

What part of stag don't you understand?

 

[LoboGunLeather]

What part of stag don't you understand?

Stag? Large North American and European species of the deer family? Elk? Wapiti?

How am I doing so far? Still struggling with the married, with children, with grandchildren, with great-grandchildren, all wanting to horn in on the annual old guys fishing trip and turn it into a soap opera episode.

 

[ArchAngelCD]

I was going to put my 2¢ in but I see your already went and came back.

I was going to suggest the women and children go on their own vacation without us miserable men folk lol. Tell them to break out the credit cards and have a great vacation doing what the like. Then the guys could go back to a real fishing trip and the quiet that goes with it.

Be sure to make it look like this is for them and they would have a better time without us stupid guys.

I did learn something after 44 years of marriage... hehehe

 

[Golddollar]

Looking back at many years of our fishing trips to Canada, having my sister, aunts and girl cousins on the trips was a valuable component in the bonding among our extended family.

 

[jag312]

It may come as a surprise to many people, but when Spring comes around, fishing is the last thing we think about. We, and that is my nephew, niece, and their daughter, go to the streams in the Mother Lode and pan for gold. The excitement of catching a fish ain't nothing compared to finding a gold nugget. Where is my son? He would rather stay home and play video games. Pitiful, just pitiful.

 

[LoboGunLeather]

Update, photos arrived

The boys finally sent me a thumb drive filled with photos. Here are a few showing Old Grampa holding the 23" brown trout taken on White River below Bull Shoals Dam, 4 generations of the family on a 16' jon boat, and a grandson showing us how to hook smallmouth bass on Bull Shoals Lake.

 

[Exaviator]

[FONT=&quot]April is Autumn here in New Zealand and is that time of year when I take my annual fly-fishing trip to Turangi, a small township located on the southern end of Lake Taupo and claims to be the trout capital of N.Z.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Situated 1200 ft above MSL and surrounded by mountains the lake is fed by numerous rivers, the largest and main one being the Tongariro, and it is on this river that I do most of my fly fishing.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The following is a recollection of my recent trip:[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The persistent buzzing of the alarm clock awoke me at 0430, time to get cracking to be on the water by sunrise. A quick wash, a brush of the teeth followed by a mug of strong tea and a bowl of muesli before donning all the appropriate gear.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Weather forecast indicates a cloudy day – get a lot of them in NZ – and rain showers with some thunderstorms in the late afternoon so dress accordingly, donning thermals, chest high waders, boots, a fishing vest with enough pockets and chest pouches to do Rambo proud then heading out of my comfortable riverside lodge accommodations for a brisk thirty minutes walk to this mornings chosen location.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The walk along the bush track bordering the river was a pleasure in itself, with birds making their presence known and the odd rabbit scampering away. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]On arrival at the chosen location I am pleased to find that I have it to myself and listening to the chirping of cicadas select a fly from my vast array masquerading as one. Before long my rod is rigged and I am waist deep in the fast running river and placing the first casts. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Two hours later and with nothing to show for my early efforts my legs and feet are becoming stiff with cold and my shoulder aching from the effort of swinging the rod, it is time for a break.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Resting on the shingle river bank sipping on a hot coffee and munching a muesli bar I take in my surroundings. It is a rugged vista of flowing water, rocks and tall pines with the only sound the rushing crystal clear water.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Less than ten meters away a pair of Blue Cranes sit side by side and appear to be nattering away their beaks moving and heads bobbing up and down, whilst on the opposite bank a cormorant sitting on a large boulder spreads his wings to dry himself.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Coffee break over I move further upstream and get back to the task at hand, catching that elusive trout, and before long I am knee deep on a submerged shingle bank casting with renewed vigor, but now I have continuous fine rain to contend with and my glasses are not fitted with windshield wipers…[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Soon it is noon, the rain shower has finally passed and not being as young as I used to be my stamina is fading, my casts are becoming ragged and I can feel the increased effort required to stem the five knots current and stay on my two feet. It is decision time, but decide on just one more cast before I give it away for the day and make the thirty minutes walk back to the lodge for lunch, a hot shower, shave and afternoon nap. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]I try to make the last cast a perfect one and concentrate my effort, arm moving between the ten and two position, wait for the line to straighten on the back cast then hard forward, the line straightens out and the leader and tippet are laying true, the fly alights on the water gently and just short of the opposite river bank before being picked up by the current – perfect.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Bang, the strike almost takes me by surprise but I get my rod tip up to set the hook and the fight is on. Trout are hard and intelligent fighters. They will make a long run then quickly reverse the course to create slack line which allows them to throw the hook, or will jump clear of the surface and flick their body to do the same, all of which becomes an exciting battle of wits and technique. With very small hook and light line hooking up does not necessarily mean landing the fish. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]This fish did all of the above, but twenty minutes later the fight was over and my elusive trout was in my landing net.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]I was wet, tired and stiff but the reward was well worth it. At forty five centimeters and weighing almost four pounds it was going to make a fine meal, but that task is left to my good lady.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Life doesn't get much batter than that…[/FONT]
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[LoboGunLeather]

[FONT=&quot]April is Autumn here in New Zealand and is that time of year when I take my annual fly-fishing trip to Turangi, a small township located on the southern end of Lake Taupo and claims to be the trout capital of N.Z.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Situated 1200 ft above MSL and surrounded by mountains the lake is fed by numerous rivers, the largest and main one being the Tongariro, and it is on this river that I do most of my fly fishing.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The following is a recollection of my recent trip:[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The persistent buzzing of the alarm clock awoke me at 0430, time to get cracking to be on the water by sunrise. A quick wash, a brush of the teeth followed by a mug of strong tea and a bowl of muesli before donning all the appropriate gear.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Weather forecast indicates a cloudy day – get a lot of them in NZ – and rain showers with some thunderstorms in the late afternoon so dress accordingly, donning thermals, chest high waders, boots, a fishing vest with enough pockets and chest pouches to do Rambo proud then heading out of my comfortable riverside lodge accommodations for a brisk thirty minutes walk to this mornings chosen location.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The walk along the bush track bordering the river was a pleasure in itself, with birds making their presence known and the odd rabbit scampering away. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]On arrival at the chosen location I am pleased to find that I have it to myself and listening to the chirping of cicadas select a fly from my vast array masquerading as one. Before long my rod is rigged and I am waist deep in the fast running river and placing the first casts. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Two hours later and with nothing to show for my early efforts my legs and feet are becoming stiff with cold and my shoulder aching from the effort of swinging the rod, it is time for a break.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Resting on the shingle river bank sipping on a hot coffee and munching a muesli bar I take in my surroundings. It is a rugged vista of flowing water, rocks and tall pines with the only sound the rushing crystal clear water.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Less than ten meters away a pair of Blue Cranes sit side by side and appear to be nattering away their beaks moving and heads bobbing up and down, whilst on the opposite bank a cormorant sitting on a large boulder spreads his wings to dry himself.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Coffee break over I move further upstream and get back to the task at hand, catching that elusive trout, and before long I am knee deep on a submerged shingle bank casting with renewed vigor, but now I have continuous fine rain to contend with and my glasses are not fitted with windshield wipers…[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Soon it is noon, the rain shower has finally passed and not being as young as I used to be my stamina is fading, my casts are becoming ragged and I can feel the increased effort required to stem the five knots current and stay on my two feet. It is decision time, but decide on just one more cast before I give it away for the day and make the thirty minutes walk back to the lodge for lunch, a hot shower, shave and afternoon nap. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]I try to make the last cast a perfect one and concentrate my effort, arm moving between the ten and two position, wait for the line to straighten on the back cast then hard forward, the line straightens out and the leader and tippet are laying true, the fly alights on the water gently and just short of the opposite river bank before being picked up by the current – perfect.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Bang, the strike almost takes me by surprise but I get my rod tip up to set the hook and the fight is on. Trout are hard and intelligent fighters. They will make a long run then quickly reverse the course to create slack line which allows them to throw the hook, or will jump clear of the surface and flick their body to do the same, all of which becomes an exciting battle of wits and technique. With very small hook and light line hooking up does not necessarily mean landing the fish. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]This fish did all of the above, but twenty minutes later the fight was over and my elusive trout was in my landing net.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]I was wet, tired and stiff but the reward was well worth it. At forty five centimeters and weighing almost four pounds it was going to make a fine meal, but that task is left to my good lady.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Life doesn't get much batter than that…[/FONT]
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I must bow to the eloquence displayed by the gentleman in New Zealand in portraying his fishing trip so beautifully. Well done, sir!

Edit to add: In response to your comment that it doesn't get any better than that, I might argue that catching a fine trout while accompanied by one's elder son, grandson, and great-grandson adds just a bit to the experience!