Almost everyone who has been around a fisherman has heard tales of the big one that got away. The thing is that not all of those tales are fabricated, and a lot of the stories are at least based in fact.

I have been fishing nearly my entire life, and I have quite a number of stories that would qualify for the big one that got away. Each of those stories is true. No, I'm not saying that I almost caught a 50-pound monster out of a stream that was inches deep and only a foot across. But there are still a few times I remember with sadness, when I didn't catch that nice fish.

I'd have to say that the biggest true big fish story I have to tell occurred when I was 17 and a senior in High School. I had gone all through High School without missing a single day, with the exception of senior skip day when all the seniors were expected to be absent. It was time for that to change.

It was early April, and living in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon, it was a bitter and cold day. The wind was blowing and the sky was gray with clouds that occasionally spit snow and sleet. Still, that morning I told my mother that I didn't want to go to school. I'd never told her that in the past, and she was surprised but said nothing for a time.

Finally she asked me what I wanted to do, if I stayed home. I told her that I'd like to go fishing. This was something she could relate to since she was a better fly fisherman than most professionals. Her answer wasn't a good one; I could stay home, but she couldn't take me fishing because she had to work. She was a Realtor.

To me, that wasn't a problem. I immediately picked up the phone and called her boss, a man who thought highly of me. I explained that I wanted to go fishing, and that my mother and I had not yet been fishing that year. I laid it on thick, but he got the message and asked to speak to my mother. What he told her was basically 'take your son fishing'.

We threw things in the car and were on the road in about a half hour, despite the weather. We decided not to go far from town, so we drove to a 42-mile long lake within miles of town. The wind was even fiercer there, but mom wasn't concerned. She wasn't fishing, after all. She'd simply brought me to fish.

I was chilled to the bone by the time I got my hook in the water, and I sat in the car watching my pole with the window rolled down enough to see it clearly, and to get pelted by sleet occasionally. I was bait fishing because the wind was far too strong for fly-fishing.

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

---

Add your voice

Know something about Reflections: The big one that got away?
We want to hear your view. Write now!