My son and I hit a pond this evening; his first time this year. He's tagged along with me in the woods, streams and ponds since he was really tiny. I wore him in a sling, on my chest, my back, my thumb, and now he's a budding angler. Last year he learned to stalk, cast and catch his own bluegills with fly tackle. I've had high expectations for this season, but it's easy to forget how little 7 can be.

Before hiking in I said, "Do you need to go? This is the only toilet. And this is a public park."

"No."

"Are you sure??"

"Yup."

I knew better...but, "OK, if you say so." Fool that I am.

A half hour later, after a 15 minute walk (he stopping to make a gravel pile, poke a stick into a few interesting holes and crevices, and then watch that stick make drag marks on the path), "Papa, I've gotta go." We reversed our steps, and stick dragging and hole poking, back to the park bathroom.

I was hoping he'd get some more casting in than he did, conditions were pretty good, but he kept himself plenty busy: There were holes to be dug at the shore, midges to splash water at, algae/mud pies to make, and plenty to watch and talk about. You know, it's darn tough to fish for bass in cold water, and follow a 7 year-old's thought processes.

Since he was so engaged with things other than fishing, we moved little, and settled on a spot with a horde of bluegills crowded at shore. A bass ripped through them causing a series of boils from vacating 'gills, then a gull dropped in and picked up a cripple. My son was too short to see them, so I hoisted him up on my shoulders to watch for a bit man, he's heavy now.

I managed only a single crappie, and a bass, on a free-falling Mepps #3 -something that often works really well in this very clear pond. My son talked to that crappie for a full minute before I suggested he send it on it's way. I then set the hook on the bass and my son was running over,

"You've got...a big one??"

"Pretty big. You want to wrestle him in?" He did, and it jumped!

"Whoa!! Did you see that??! A rocket bass! Papa, what if there were giant bass in space..."

"We'll send FishChris", I answered.

"What??"

"Oh...FishChris is this guy who chases REALLY big bass..."

After the sun set, he was beginning to shiver (after nearly an hour wading around in 55F water), but he didn't want to leave.

"Awww Papa!"

"Yeah, it's time...We'll be back."

We ended the day with pizza and ice cream an hour after his bedtime. 8-)

On the drive home I thought to myself, "I just can't wait until he catches his own. But...It'll happen. No hurry."

Guess he's still little, and a pond edge too big. It's easy to forget. I can wait. It's all good.

what a great time you had, thats the times you will always remember.