Look what I found!

For me, it's about the fishing, not so much, the catching.

I'm with you 100% on that, Rod. Lightweight flyrods or ultra-lite spinning are the ways to go.

I grew up with the idea that small, brushy streams required short rods. But later came to believe that longer rods actually are less awkward, and give you more control. My go-to rods for small stream fishing are an 8'8" Orvis #3 weight, and an 8' Winston #4 weight.

Things change when we move up to either bigger water or fish tougher than trout. My day-in-day out river outfit is a #5 weight. I go up to a #7 for largemouth and similar fish; and a #10 weight for real bruisers such as Musky, Steelhead, and salt water fishes.

The bigger outfits aren't so much for the fish, as making it easier to cast the big, air-resistant types of flies involved.

I mostly am at work when I'm outdoors, Ron. But where is it written that you can't enjoy what you do?

Still, there are times.

Somewhere in my files I have a photo taken in Missouri. I buddy of mine handled PR for Tracker Boats, at the time, and we'd set up a trip on some of his favorite streams. Early spring, it was. And there I am, with about a half inch of snow built up on my rod, icicles hanging off my ears, and fingertips a lovely shade of blue.

The only logical caption: A hard day at the office.

The real irony, though, was in Michigan. This was previous to the time I became a dyed in the down waterfowler. In those days I used to say, "I would never knock another man's sport, unless he was a duck hunter."

Uh, huh. Last time I said that I was waist deep in the Grand River, in January, tossing flies at very reluctant steelhead.

Just who was the crazy one?

My dad used to disappear with his 3 brothers and go ice fishing all the time in the winters when I was growing up. He always came back with real nice perch. Pretty impressive.

Many years later he took me along one time and lo and behold, he didn't catch fish any better than I did. On the way home, we went by a wholesaler that was an old army buddy of one of his brothers who would sell them all huge perch... Sly S.O.B.s! They were all just hangin' out in a big fishing shanty on Saginaw Bay.  Drinking beer, talkin' sh*t and swappin' lies over a day long card game.

On the way home he said, "Keep this under yer hat, boy. What Ma don't know won't hurt us."

Steelheading can be a truly hard business. You gotta really like what you're trying to do. I've done it a handful of times in upstate New York and came to the conclusion that it really isn't my kind of fun. Gives me chills just thinking about it. You forget all about that when the fight is on though. It's all that misery in between hook ups... shudder... not for me.