On fatherhood and fishing

I struggle to think of anything in my life that changed my priorities faster than having a child.

Not moving off to college or paying my bills for the first time. Even starting a new job or getting married pale in comparison to everything that comes with being responsible for a human life—the task of of shaping and building the very reality of another living thing.

As one of my good friends put it, “parenting is the hardest job that you will want to get up and do every day.”

Through a little over two years, that has proven to be true on both fronts. While I wouldn’t change it, that didn’t mean things in my life didn’t have to change, if only temporarily. Spending hundreds of hours fishing and hunting likely wasn’t going to be in the cards for a little while.

Though the discovery of our son’s impending arrival was a surprise, I knew what I signed up for. I spent a lot of time thinking about fatherhood and envisioning what that would entail.

Scattered in the scores of congratulatory messages from friends and family were a few along the lines of “hunting and fishing time are going to look a little different,” accompanied by a winking or laughing emoji.

My quick response was always, “If that means I get to spend time doing those things with my son when gets older, it’s all worth it.”

I now realize that statement is a little unfair. While I will certainly do my best to expose my son to my passions, many of which involve the outdoors, I can never force him to like anything. The best I can do is provide opportunities for experience and understanding and see where the chips fall. Plus, all of this will be worth it no matter what, just knowing that I was present for my wife and child during the formative years to very best of my ability.

And, It’s not like I’ve had to give up my hobbies, far from it. Lyza did a great job of making sure I still got time in the outdoors, for the sake of all three of us, especially in the early days.

Tony’s outdoors orientation began on my first day of solo parental leave. It was a sunny and warm April day. I took him outside and we sat in the grass. We touched leaves, picked up sticks, and watched the ants. The brief outing culminated in dad realizing his largely immobile little one was covered in said ants and, in a panic, rushing to the patio door while frantically wiping every last black marching critter off his delicate pale skin.

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the reaction I wanted to convey of up-close encounters with most wild creatures. No one was in any danger. Dad was just particularly high-strung that day. Live and learn, I suppose.

As Tony has grown, so has the range of his experiences in nature. Our family spends lots of time outside and I try to use it as a chance to teach about the larger world around us. We started taking walks in a local nature preserve to look for deer and check out spawning salmon in fall. We watch at the bird feeder in the backyard and I call out the different species. He picks up worms and touches bugs. He even has a toddler fishing pole he messes around with, but isn’t quite ready to use for its intended purpose.

My hope is to keep things fun and age-appropriate while building a sense of wonder and natural curiosity about the simple beauties of nature. So far, it seems to be working.

Tony can identify a handful of birds and knows their calls. He eagerly helps me fill our bird feeders and clean minnow buckets. He anxiously awaits the arrival of the mating pair of cardinals that show up for a snack every night before dinner and excitedly points out deer whenever and wherever we see them.

I’d like to think I’ve done a good job remaining patient and letting things happen on his terms. But, given the positive progress, a couple weeks ago, I decided to push the envelope. I felt it was time to introduce him to a more formal activity, something more akin to what dad spends so much of his time doing: dip netting for white suckers.

Some of my first memories of spending time in the outdoors with my dad were centered around dip netting. I can still remember the chilly spring nights on a bridge overlooking the Pigeon River, my nostrils filled with the smells of lanterns, cigarette smoke, and wet concrete.

Sans the secondhand smoke exposure, dip netting is a great way to introduce a child to fishing. My dad definitely got that part right. In many ways, the beauty is in the simplicity of the activity. Lower a net with a rope attached into a river. Occasionally pull on the rope to see if you have any fish. That’s it.

This requires very little patience when done correctly. The fish don’t have to be hungry, they simply need to be present. And it requires next to no equipment, just a net and a rope. As an added bonus, action and excitement can come quickly.

While all of this made dip netting seem like a logical starting point for my own son, I am highly skeptical that my first trip with my dad was at the ripe old age of 2. I knew it was a risk, but I decided to give it a try. Tony likes being outside and he likes fish. In theory, this was a chance to provide both.

I did my best to keep my expectations low. My friend Spencer decided to join us but, before he did, I warned him that this trip could be five hours or five minutes and I had no idea which. Given the unpredictable timeframe, I decided to do a bit of scouting—a downright laughable idea if a child is not involved. But I wanted to set us all up for success.

Many of the best spots are on busy roads. I wasn’t comfortable putting a toddler in that environment. That whittled it down to two options and I wanted to be sure there was enough water to give us a fighting chance. The scouting turned out to be a wise use of time, only one of the two spots had enough flow to make our trek worthwhile.

So, that night, Tony and I loaded up the truck and drove down the road to pick up Spencer. It was roughly 45 minutes before sunset, not the ideal time to be out but I wanted to be respectful of bedtime.

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the spot and unpacked our stuff. I still wasn’t sure what to expect. None of us were. I didn’t expect action to be hot and heavy, I was just hoping it would be enough to keep Tony engaged for a little bit. Thankfully, I didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for too long.

On Spencer’s first pull, we heard splashing. In his net sat a single sucker. While we all shared in the excitement of the first sucker I’ve the season, I also felt a sense of relief.

Spencer pulled the net all the way up and carefully maneuvered it over the top rail of the bridge and down onto the platform. Initially, Tony wasn’t quite sure what to make of our catch but, within moments, he was ready to give the specimen a more thorough inspection.

“It’s swimming!,” he exclaimed as the fish tried fruitlessly to escape the net. I picked it up and asked Tony if he wanted to touch it. He gave the fish a few gentle strokes on the top of its head with his pointer finger. Spencer took a few videos and snapped some pictures before we sent the fish on its way.

I was optimistic it would be positive, but this first encounter went even better than I had hoped. Fishing was slow but, Tony was occupied by chatting with Spencer, munching on snacks, and pointing out the ducks that flew in.

We ended the night with only three fish but, by the time things were said and done, Tony was bear-hugging our final sucker, just as thrilled with this one as the first.

He spent nearly 90 minutes on the bridge with us before he was ready to call it a night. Just as well, it was his bedtime anyway.

There were so many positives: we got fish, we enjoyed the fresh air, and Tony seemed to enjoy the entire experience. I was over-the-moon. Being able to share a part of myself with my child was incredibly fulfilling. At the risk of sounding selfish, it’s a very fun part of parenting.

Ever the dopamine chaser, I decided to take Tony on another dip netting trip a couple days later. This time, on my own. That adventure lasted all of 10 minutes. It was a bummer, but no big deal. No sense in forcing anything.

Thankfully, Tony has been on several trips since that night and all of them were much closer to the experience of the first night than the second. The key, I have learned, is making sure we always have company. Tony is a social butterfly who values having a fresh set of ears to talk off. One night, it was Spencer’s brother Shane. The next it was mom’s and grandma and grandpa’s.

These experiences over the last few weeks shifted my perspectives on several things.

The first is that, through the eyes of a child, dip netting is basically just a science experiment. When treated as such, it becomes even more fun. Every last living thing in our nets came over the rail for inspection. Creek chub? Pet it and feel how bumpy its head is. Crayfish? Check out those big ol’ claws! It doesn’t need to be a sucker to be a learning opportunity.

Another lesson of this season is how good my friends are with kids, even the ones who don’t have children of their own. Spencer and Shane couldn’t have been better with Tony. They were patient and more than understanding of our plans lacking any type of predictability. They talked to Tony, held flashlights for him, and taught him about cool new things. I’m grateful for this reminder of the community Lyza and I have been lucky enough to build around ourselves. That is especially vital when children are involved.

This time with my son in the outdoors has also renewed my commitment to protecting our natural resources. One of my favorite nature-related sayings is, “It’s not ours. It’s just our turn.” Beginning the process of passing down my outdoors traditions to the next generation, my own flesh and blood, has been a surreal experience. Given the state of the world, I worry greatly about Tony being able to have those same opportunities. I don’t know what the future holds in that regard, but one thing is certain: I am as dedicated as I have ever been to protecting our precious earth and all of the joy that can be found in it.

Parenting brings about a wild roller coaster of emotions. If I’m being blunt, many of them aren’t positive. But, in my experience, the good far outweighs the bad. And if this season has taught me anything, it’s that I love being a dad.