Last night my dad reminded me about my lack of recent updates. He asked if I quit fishing and said that some of his friends were also wondering if I quit fishing. I chuckled and apologized for the story void. Funny thing is, about 20 minutes later he complained when I wanted to take his picture. I said, "Dad, how the heck do you expect me to tell a story about you if you won't let me take your picture? You do realize that nobody believes fish tales unless there is a picture attached to prove it, don't you?" A few minutes later and a few more words of encouragement, and he finally held his dinner for a quick photo. Sheesh, it was like I asked him for his retirement savings or something.
We spent the evening together sharing one of my favorite father son moments - we went walleye fishing. My dad and I don't fish together as much as we'd like, but when we do, it usually revolves around something he can eat. Truthfully, I think he likes eating them more than he does catching them. He won't admit this, but I believe it to be true. Still, this works out well for me because I just like to catch fish (as if you couldn't tell).
We grabbed a scoop of minnows and hit the blustery waters. The nice thing about fishing on lake Minnetonka is that there is always a place to duck out of the wind. Tonight, this wind break happened to create a current break and the walleyes were stacked on it. In less than two hours, we managed to land more than a dozen walleyes and lose almost as many boatside. I guess you could say the walleye chop made a difference. My dad kept a few for dinner, and we tossed the rest back to grow for another day. In the end he let me take his picture, and I came home with a story to tell. The best part? His friends will actually believe him. Thanks for the great time on the water, dad. I will never forget how many of them flopped off by the boat, and your horrible net job! Until the next fish strikes, keep on livin' your dream!