As a kid growing up in Texas and Oklahoma, I had always fished with my family. Mom fished to have fun with the kids. Dad fished as a way to sit still for a few hours and do nothing. My sisters; well who knows why 4 and 6 year old girls do anything?

But fishing with my grandfather was always different. It was a Zen-like experience. We would load up his 1957 GMC pickup with a couple of chairs, the tackle boxes, 20 or so rods and the obligatory Schlitz Tallboy wrapped in the brown paper bag and hit the road for his favorite spot. All these years later, I couldn't tell you which lake we fished, what road it was near, or even what we were trying to catch. But I vividly remember the drive there. It was paved roads for a while. Transitioning to dirt / gravel roads and then on to bone jarring, teeth rattling, deep-rutted trails to the shoreline. We would bait the hooks, attach the bobbers and toss them out. Then, we waited. Sitting quietly with the occasional conversation about whatever it is grandfathers and grandsons talk about.

And we had some adventures. Once, we were stranded for 20 hours after a day of catfish fishing the Red River. Another time we had a flat tire after the 25 pound snapping turtle we had just pulled out of a farm pond bit through the tire. And there were always encounters with bugs, snakes and other critters.

Maybe The Fish Fifty Project is a chance to re-live some of these experiences. Maybe it is as close as an almost 50 year old man will get to leave some kind of mark on the world. Who knows??

The trips are easier now. Usually made in a nice rental car, with a carefully MapQuested trip guide pointing us to where we need to be. And instead of stopping at the local tackle shop to chat up the locals, the internet has made finding the hot spots and local guides much easier. Oh, don’t get me wrong, some of the places we have traveled through were memorable. Checking out the smallest post office in the United States (Florida) is one example. Oh, and picking up a fishing license at the Walmart in Texarkana, Arkansas just a little after 11PM was quite a sight as well.

But regardless of where we go or what quarry we are after, it is a chance to fish with a good friend and experience “bushido” (To know life in every moment.)  Friends and family do not quite understand how John and I can be in the same boat for hours at a time and hardly speak a word. All I can say is “that which is understood, need not be discussed”. It is a fishing thing.