As I wrote on Friday before leaving for northern Minnesota, to become a fan of fishing, three things needed to take place over the weekend:
- I needed to catch something edible that weighed more than three pounds.
- I needed to get said fish into the live well without puncturing a major artery, whether by hook or gill.
- I needed to clean said fish without vomiting all over myself.
Well, I caught a three-pound fish — a northern. Though edible to some, I ultimately tossed it back. However, I did clean a three-pound walleye my dad caught and I was gilled in the process. (Nothing serious.)
Bottom line: I’m itching to go back out. I don’t own so much as a fishing hook, but I’d love to make fishing my new hobby. For all the time I spend in front of computers, it was great to unplug and get out on a quiet, serene lake at dawn. I won’t Robert Frost you to death over it, but I can see myself becoming more outdoorsy after this fishing trip.
If you live in Minnesota and you’re looking for a fishing partner, hit me up. I swear I won’t subject your fish to a post-game interview.