Perfect Sunday

Fishing is one of my favorite activities. I find it relaxing to be outdoors, near the water, and spending the time with friends or family. My son does not share my enjoyment of this activity and I don’t force it upon him. I secretly hope that one day he will come to appreciate fishing as much as I.

There is a reservoir near my house that I frequently fish at with my sister and her family. It isn’t one of my favorite places but it is close and fulfills the need to fish when it rears up. I prefer to head up into the mountains to a lake, river, or reservoir.

Last week I suggested to my friend John that he and I spend Sunday morning fishing. I let him chose the location. He invited a friend from work, Ned. We met up at 6 am on Sunday morning to drive up the canyon to Scofield, a tiny town in the mountains with a big reservoir. The day was beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky. Though we were up in the mountains, the temperature was pleasant enough that we didn’t need to wear a jacket the entire time.

The three of us lined up on shore, prepared our lines, cast out, and waited. It wasn’t long before we started getting some nibbles. I caught four, John caught none, and Ned was the winner with ten. We only kept six.
As I was getting my gear ready to fish, Ned looked over and commented on my doing everything myself. He said that I restored his faith in women. Apparently, he is does not know many women who enjoy fishing or know enough to handle their own equipment. Later in the morning as we were basking in the beauty of the day, I made the comment about the great idea I had to go fishing. Ned looked at me again and shook his head. Again, I don’t think the women he knows would suggest such an activity.

On the drive home, I was rather quiet, just listening to the men talk about work. John commented on my silence and Ned again mentioned what an awesome girl he thinks I am to spend the day fishing and enjoying it. John went on to tell him how much I like the outdoors, how John and I go fishing and shooting together, that my dad and I do these things together, how I like to ride four-wheelers, and camping. My ego received a boost at their praise.

I forgot to take my camera so I have not pictures to share with you. But I this is one that was taken many years ago on the Provo River. I was the only girl in a fly-fishing class. All of the men were catching a lot of little fish. I only caught one. But it was the biggest.