About twice a year I rent a camping cottage at the Little Pine State Park campground to get away and write. With gorgeous views in every direction, staying at the campground is like stepping into a picture post card. Plus there’s no cell phone or Internet service available. All combined, it’s the perfect place for a few days of serious writing.
Early Wednesday morning the campground looked almost deserted. Then the afternoon arrived, along with a steady stream of fisherman. A few anglers came alone, though most arrived in groups. Some brought fishing boats, others waders, and all brought fishing poles. Talk of rods, reels, bait and lures hung thick in the air.
The casting rod guy that missed the fish but caught the tree won the prize for my favorite fisherman. He bemoaned losing another favorite lure. So one of his fishing buddies decided to ‘help’ by using a cell phone to video his futile attempts to untangle the line from the branches. I couldn’t resist snapping a picture myself.
I asked several anglers if they ate their fish or threw them back. Many returned their catch to the creek. Others kept only the largest trout, and after cleaning the fish, placed the fillets on ice to take home. One group planned to enjoy a fish fry on their last day at the campground.
All the anglers enjoyed their time fishing, but over and over I heard some variation of “Catching fish is fun, but the best part is being with my friends/family.”
And that’s how it should be.